What if there were superpowers in the world, but no superheroes?

Deborah Biancotti has a reputation in Australia for rich, complex prose and bleak stories about the quiet horrors that we all hope will never happen. The Book of Endings, her first collection, made a powerful statement about the kind of fiction she is known for – and Bad Power, her far more slender second collection, makes an entirely different statement about the writer she is going to be.

The stories in Bad Power have a clear, sharp narrative, and a more restrained approach to her prose. As with many of the Twelve Planets collections, the stories are connected and serve to build up a particular world, based on a single premise. In this case, it is the idea that some people have powers, what comics readers or TV/movie fans would immediately designate superpowers, and that there is something deeply sinister about those powers, and those people.

I tore through this book very quickly – it was such a fast-paced read, and so very enjoyable. Once it became clear that the order of the stories was important and that each fed something into the others, the mystery of how to fit all the pieces together added an extra layer of enjoyment. Each story has its own compelling protagonist, and distinct voice. My favourites were Detective Enora Palmer and Detective Max Ponti, just as my favourite stories were “Palming the Lady” and “Crossing the Bridge,” but this is one of those collections where the whole is far more than the sum of its parts.

BAD POWER, by Deborah Biancotti
Twelfth Planet Press
reviewed as part of the Australian Women Writers 2012 National Year of Reading Challenge

Tansy’s Australian Women Writer’s 2012 Reading Challenge.
1. Eona by Alison Goodman (fantasy)
2. Cooking the Books by Kerry Greenwood (contemporary crime)
3. Bad Power by Deborah Biancotti (spec fic, superhero)

The edition Tansy read

Agathon #6: The Secret of Chimneys [1925]
Anthony Cade, Superintendent Battle, Eileen “Bundle” Brent

TANSY SAYS:

Here we go again! This is another Agatha Christie novel that doesn’t fit my apparently-narrow previous idea about what an Agatha Christie novel was. Instead it’s another of these early – what do we call them? Not quite spy novels, more intrigue romps. Definitely not a murder mystery, though there is murder and mystery aplenty.

Having said that, the plot of this one is even more bonkers than I have come to expect from Christie’s early work, and the various threads of lost European royalty, con men, posh people with titles and dead bodies frankly bemused and befuddled me. Having said that, my heart was won very early on by the gorgeous and banterrific Virginia Revel – I paid attention pretty much for her, and everything that came out of her mouth.

Christie writes marvellous young women! I tend to find all her younger male characters quite bland, with only the older and more character-laden men being worth paying attention to (with the possible exception of Hastings) and in this book I did enjoy the gruff and intelligent Superintendent Battle. But the absolute stars of The Secret of Chimneys for me were Virginia and, to a slightly lesser degree, Eileen “Bundle” Brent (whom I see from our spreadsheet is going to make a comeback, hooray!)

Virginia feels very much like a British version of the kind of characters Katherine Hepburn used to play in the 30’s: she’s witty, beautiful, flirtatious, and utterly in touch with her own frivolity. She’s also very sexually confident, and enjoys half her male acquaintance being in love with her. I liked that she was originally brought into the conspiracy because the aristocratic blokes trying to deal with – all that complicated plot business which I won’t pretend I understand or remember – admired her charm and intelligence. Then of course, while they tried desperately to patronise her, she ran rings around them constantly. In another era, she would totally be alongside Patrick McNee in the Avengers. Is it too much to hope there was a movie version of this novel made in the 60’s starring Diana Rigg?

Bundle on the other hand is a quieter sort of female, more docile and domestic, and yet she is every bit the wit that Virginia is – snarkier and more understated in her remarks. I enjoyed their double act and would have liked to see many more scenes with them together.

[SPOILERS]

The reveal at the end about our con man protagonist (sort of) Anthony Cade being a secret prince and heir to the throne of Whereverslovakia was hilarious and awful in its bizarreness, even if it made a terrible kind of sense. And it was totally worth it for the scene in which he tells Virginia exactly who it is she married.

“How perfectly screaming!”

The TV adaption adds Miss Marple. changes the murderer (like that matters) and casts the awesome Dervla Kirwan as Bundle

KATHRYN SAYS:

This installment felt a bit soulless to me. My major trouble is with hero of the story, Anthony Cade. He’s FAR too perfect, and even when you think he’s down and out, you find out later he’s not (cos he’s perfect). And Christie keeps mentioning his bronzed face and lean body, which to be honest is a little unsettling! Perhaps what I found missing from this installment is a bit of grit and grime (which seems a little odd to say when there’s murder, and leaving-of-bodies-beside-the-road, but there you go), but everything seemed to sort itself put far too neatly.

Also, this novel was quite uncomfortable to read from a race point of view – it starts off with a few derogatory remarks about Africans, and then moves on to some less than flattering mentions of Jews, and ‘dagos’ (which in this case seemed to mostly be referencing citizen of the fictitious European country Herzoslovakia). ‘The Secret of Chimneys’ was published in 1925. Obviously it’s a book of its time, but does that make it ok? Does this represent Christie’s own views or is she just writing what she sees?

The main positives of the book are Christie’s female characters. Virginia Revel is the kind of women I’d want to be in 1925 (most specifically independently wealthy and quite able to run her own life). I probably have a bigger a soft spot for Bundle, though, – so earnest and pragmatic and one of those young ladies of a certain age who gets lumped with an unusual nickname. I’d love to know if this was common at the time, or if it’s just a ‘Christie’ thing. I can think of several young ladies of Christie’s invention who have suffered an unusual nickname (Lettuce is one that comes to mind), indeed Bundle’s younger sisters have already given the monikers of Guggle and Winkle at 10 and 12! Also, I have to admit that the book does have some fairly charming chapter titles: Anthony Disposes of a Body, Mainly Political and Financial, Anthony Signs on for a New Job.

So in summary, some good lady characters (though I’m not sure it passes the Bechdel test), a motley assortment of uninspiring men, and a far too neat resolution. Not awful, but not great either.

TANSY COMES BACK TO SAY:

I know we don’t normally do right of reply, but I wanted to agree with your point about the casual racism in the book, something that’s very much of its time but also not going to become LESS of an issue with Agatha Christie as we go on.

I’m pretty sure that it does pass the Bechdel Test (we should check in with this for each book!) because of the bit where Virginia calls up Bundle and says she’s coming to Chimneys, nothing would keep her away, what ho, old girl.

The chapter where Anthony disposes of the body is pretty great, and the ramifications of this demonstrate that Christie’s sense of humour was pointed sharply inwards – she’s poking fun at the same genre conventions that her novels rely upon.

COMING NEXT:
The Murder of Roger Ackroyd (1926)
[Hercule Poirot]
The Big Four (1927)
[Hercule Poirot, Arthur Hastings, Chief Inspector Japp]
The Mystery of the Blue Train (1928)
[Hercule Poirot]
The Seven Dials Mystery (1929)
[Eileen “Bundle” Brent, Superintendent Battle]

Steeles Island, a mostly-private peninsula out near Carlton Beach (on the eastern shore of the Derwent River), turned out to have all these things in spades. It was a lucky find, as it turned out to have so many benefits we hadn’t even hoped for.

This particular ROR (wRiters on the Road/Rise/Riesling) had a family theme to it. We’d only included family members once before, when little Raeli was too young for me to bear leaving her behind for a whole four days, and so she and my honey came along to a North West Coast Tasmanian ROR, staying nights with us at the Hawley Beach house we rented, and disappearing during the days to visit relatives. This time around, we planned to do something similar only with Jem along – and then Margo and Rowena decided to bring family members too!

The house was so decadently large that we were able to critique separately from the non-writers in our party, and had the benefit of getting to know each other’s families as well as the non-stop industry talk that characterises these retreats.

We tried the experiment of using an iPad and Skype to include a long-distance member, with our virtual Maxine sitting in on a couple of sessions, as well as getting to have one of her own. It worked a lot better than we suspected it would, and while you wouldn’t want to do it every time or for every session (the great value in these retreats is getting to hang out in person) it was certainly better than having no Maxine at all! Those who weren’t experienced with Skype found it quite distracting to be talking to a black panel, and we talked at one stage about decorating a boiled egg to represent our Maxine (a random apple core just didn’t have the right aura about it) but we coped valiantly with the technical challenge. A good precedent, I think. We had also meant to record podcasts while we were there, but totally forgot. Sorry!

We were right on the beach, so the girls (and grown ups) tracked sand everywhere, indulged in recreational sweeping (or as Jem put it: the Cleaning Game) and generally had a ball. The tennis courts, mini-golf, swings, kayaks, and especially the pool table were all utilised, and we were greatly entertained by the facilities we could never use to their full extent, like the six fridges, three ovens and gazillion beds – the house is usually used to cater family weddings and conventions, and can comfortably sleep 20, or feed 50. The non-writers also took the chance to go off adventuring, as we were close to historical sites like Port Arthur, and tourist attractions like the berry farm.

And oh, everywhere we looked there was water, sand or greenery. A beautiful place, inspiring and (mostly) secluded. The mud crabs delighted the girls, as did the ocean in their back yard, and I only regret that the changeable Hobart weather only created two perfect swimming days – the one when we arrived and the one when we left, of course! The storm in between was marvellously atmospheric, though, and we only had one day so cold that the mainlanders started to look a bit grim and shivery. And yes, we let them have a wood fire.

The food as ever was epic, Dirk being delighted with the best kitchen we’d ever provided for one of these events – he offered up salmon, salads, baked chicken in damper crust, smashed potatoes, butter chicken, lemon cake with strawberries, pancakes and a truly luscious bread and butter pudding. Also fresh-baked bread, and for one especially memorable breakfast, petit pain au chocolat hot from the oven. The older kids often hung out with him in the kitchen, and he shared cooking tips and techniques with them. Raeli was especially excited to see bread made from scratch! We also ate our way through titanic quantities of fresh dark cherries and sweet greengages.

Being so close to Barilla Bay, we had to “do oysters” one night! We did have permission to raid the local oyster beds, but they were frighteningly large and mostly underwater, so we ended up playing it safe and not risking the wrath of the sea gods. We bought seven dozen and ate our way through them on the night of the official release dates of Margo’s and my books – particularly appropriate for Sea Hearts! Though no seal wives were harmed in the making of our dinner.

It wasn’t all eating and talking – though of course that is a huge part of our ROR weeks! There was work, too, and we critted up a storm, with quite intense working sessions that left us light headed and sleepy by the time evening came around. There is absolutely no price you could put on the benefit we get from having so many dedicated professionals giving feedback on your book-in-progress, and getting a window into their process at the same time. We had books that were fragment first drafts, books which were five minutes away from going to the publisher, and everything in between.

And of course, what is workshopped at ROR stays at ROR. But oh, I wish I could tell you about these fabulous books that are coming!

We talked a lot about worldbuilding as plot, one of my favourite writing techniques, because once it was raised in one session, it became relevant to all the others (of course!). We talked a bit about agents, ebooks and the changing marketplace, too. And, it being our anniversary ROR (we didn’t manage to have one for our ten year mark – this makes it eleven) we ended up looking back on our our careers had changed and developed since the original five of the group came together. Rowena has been archiving the goals we set every ROR, and it’s fascinating to see which of our past predictions came true, and which were heartlessly abandoned. Marianne and Trent (and Maxine, of course) we missed you MOST on that night!

I’m very pleased that I managed to time my book launch to fit with the last day of ROR (it involved some very precise timing and great goodwill on the part of my publisher!) and even more pleased that Margo was able to join me. It’s a rare thing to have so many of MY author people at one of my book launches, and it felt like an appropriately dramatic way to celebrate the end of a trilogy that began, as many of my books do, with a ROR manuscript. [more launch pics here]

It all feels a little flat now it’s over – and we keep thinking of other ways to use that magnificent house! It would be a fabulous site for a Clarion style writing workshop, or boutique professional conference. (Tehani and Terri, take note) The sign of a good ROR is that we start musing nostalgically about coming back to that particular place before we’ve even left… but of course, we never do. There are always new places to explore.

Rowena’s ROR report here, with a bunch of different pictures of different bits of the house and island!

Margo’s report on the ROR blog, talking about Formidable Energies – the very very early stage novel she brought to our workshop!

There’s a reason that more action figures have been made of Leela in her leathers and Peri in her leotard-with-shorts than any other Doctor Who companions. And let’s not get into the recent revelations that Jon Pertwee insisted on a recast of the role of Sarah Jane Smith, because the actress cast before Elisabeth Sladen was too tall, and he liked to perform against a physically small woman, one he could be seen to physically protect. Ahem.

But there’s one sexist trope that, narratively, Doctor Who almost never used, and looking back over some of the rather dodgy decisions made by the show and its almost all-male writing tradition, it’s quite impressive that they didn’t. They almost never killed the girl.

[Spoilers follow for a bunch of Classic & New Who]

To be fair, they almost never killed the Doctor’s companion full stop, and a big part of that was the focus on an audience of children and families rather than adult fans (apart from a brief period in the mid-80′s when the show was retooled for a weekday evening audience instead of the usual Saturday teatime). The score is 27 years, 3 dead companions: two young women (Katarina and Sara Kingdom) from the same serial in the mid-1960′s, neither of which had been around for very long, and one young man in the early 80′s (Adric) who enjoys a similar fan reputation to Jason Todd in the Batman comics. If John Nathan Turner had thought of putting up a hotline for (adult, at least) Doctor Who fans to call in and vote whether Adric bought it, chances are the results would have been the same, if less surprising. There’s a fourth example, from a year or two after Adric, in which the longstanding companion Peri is killed and taken over in a manner similar to the death of Fred in Angel, then killed again, but the story is undercut later when this is revealed to be a trick, and that she really “lived happily ever after” with Brian Blessed, who had been stalking her for the whole serial. A rare example where the death of a female character felt far less sexist and demeaning than the alternative…

Home at last, two years after they left - Barbara and Ian say "close enough!"

Which is the aspect I never quite felt comfortable with, in New Who. I love this show, but I didn’t believe or support the idea that Rose saw nothing but an endless TARDIS journey for the rest of her life, and certainly didn’t think the Doctor should support the idea. I winced at the idea that Sarah Jane, once a very independent character, had been pining over Tom Baker’s teeth and curls so badly that she couldn’t move on with her own life (and a slight rewrite suggesting that the reason she hadn’t married was because finding a partner who GOT the alien travel thing was bloody hard might have made all the difference). I was suspicious at Donna happily proclaiming that *she* would be with the Doctor forever, despite not having Rose’s youth and naivete and romantic attachment to the Doctor as excuses. And look how that turned out…

Only Martha and Jack have really had traditional Doctor Who leaving stories, though with a great deal of emotion wrung out of both – Martha doesn’t just leave to help her family recover from an ordeal and, you know, pass her exams, but because she knows the Doctor will never fancy her. Jack is abandoned casually in a horrible future to deal with his new immortality, and spends centuries waiting to yell at the Doctor and receive some closure (something Susan, Steven and many other companions left in less than happy places never got on screen).

And of course, New Who has killed the girl. There was Astrid Peth, the plucky waitress with her forklift, who killed the bad guy Ellen Ripley style, in a disaster movie style story that led entirely to that moment. There was Adelaide Brooke, the gruff and hard-talking Mars commander, whose suicide at the end of Waters of Mars is utterly baffling, as there’s no possible way it can heal the time line and keep history (that the Doctor damaged by saving her) on track. There’s a big difference between your aunt dying a hero in space and her unexpectedly teleporting in to shoot herself in your front hall, guys! Not a lot of dead “companions,” but 2 in 6 years is a lot more than 3.5 in 27 years.

There’s also a bunch of Moffat-related deaths of almost-companions, such as Madame De Pompadour (rumoured to be making a comeback next season), River Song (whose death is transformed into a virtual reality existence, and who still gets to play in the show after it thanks to time travel) and Rita in season 6, set up to be the best possible Doctor Who companion but died nobly instead. And I wouldn’t argue with anyone who thinks the way Donna was written out is tantamount to fridging, even if it allows for hope that someone in the future will fix her loss of memory. She was certainly sacrificed for the sake of manpain.

So basically, when it comes to bodybag blondes, the new show is far more likely to throw a female character under a bus than the old version. That’s… interesting. It’s not like Classic Who was short on character deaths full stop, there were hundreds and hundreds of on-screen deaths. But even though my personal opinion is that Peri the character was better served by her death as performed than the ‘no it didn’t happen’ scene that removed it, I very much like the fact that Classic Who so rarely killed the companion, and never killed off a female companion who had been with the show for any length of time.

New Who has skirted around it, but they haven’t gone there either: the only “companion deaths” were guest stars who were introduced in the same story where they were killed.

Which is why I am hoping, hoping, hoping, that Amy Pond gets to live. That’s what this comes down to. You may have guessed by the title. I’m worried. Steven Moffat has teased, as he often does, that Amy and Rory will finally be written out in the coming season, and that it’s going to be “heart-breaking.” We know he can’t kill off Rory, because the many deaths of that character became a running joke long ago, and it wouldn’t make people cry so much as roll their eyes and throw things.

Amy Pond, though. They could kill Amy Pond. It would have huge emotional resonance, at the end of her arc. It would be a great moment for Karen Gillan, who has performed the role with an expanding and impressive range, to show off her chops. (All actors love to go out with a bang, just ask Nicola Bryant what she thinks of Peri’s happy ending) It would provoke colossal amounts of manpainy angst in the Doctor.

It would be a huge mistake. And I don’t just say that because I have two young daughters who would be devastated. (My seven-year-old’s Doctor is David Tennant, because she’s into nostalgia – my two-year-old’s Doctor is Amy Pond) I don’t just say it because my teenage self would have been devastated at the loss of such a character, to the point of not being able to go back and enjoy the many highlights of Amy Pond. And I’m not sure how well my adult self would cope either…

It would be a mistake because if this show, which has skirted paternalism and sexism and basically got away with a hell of a lot over the decades, if it went THERE with a character who has had an intense two years of character development and audience attachment, and yes, young girls falling in love with Amy Pond, then it becomes a different show. Throwing the female characters under the space bus might make actresses happy, and those grown ups who like their shows ‘dark,’ but in this case, with a girl we have seen from childhood devote herself to the role of Doctor’s loyal travelling companion and fellow adventurer, it would irretrievably break something in the Doctor himself.

So I’m hoping and trusting. I’ve loved seasons five and six, and I do THINK I trust Moffat with seven. I can trust him as a writer and a showrunner… as LONG as he doesn’t kill Amy Pond. Which goes to show that really, I don’t trust him at all. I almost wish we had RTD back (almost) because we know he wouldn’t sacrifice the possibility that a wildly popular actress like Karen Gillan might pop back from time to time.

This reminds me of A Good Man Goes To War, where I spent the whole episode so stressed about the baby and what might happen to her that I couldn’t enjoy it properly until later, in rewatches, knowing how it would all turn out. Even knowing the outcome wasn’t great was less stressful than not knowing it at all.

I LIKED the way Amy and Rory were written out in The God Complex. I liked what was done with them in The Wedding of River Song. I liked how they came back into the story in the Christmas special, as dear friends that maybe don’t travel with him much any more because they have their own lives. Why can’t they just have that? Why does it have to be heart-breaking? And if Amy and Rory are safe, then how is Moffat going to break our hearts? Are our only choices the death of Amy Pond, or the unwriting of River Song’s timeline to give Amy and Rory their baby back?

When I see creators gleefully talking about how they’re going to make us cry, I do start eyeing the female characters with alarm. Surely making them live and leave the Doctor is more interesting?

Like Seanan McGuire, I’ve broken up with shows. I’ve walked away. And the deaths of women have often soured me on shows that I love. The last season of Battlestar Galactica ruined pretty much the whole show for me, because of its treatment of the human female characters. I never really forgave Star Trek: Next Gen for Tasha Yar, or Angel for Cordelia (though to be fair after the colossal awfulnesses they perpetrated on her character towards the end, death was something of a mercy). I don’t want to feel that way about Doctor Who. I’ve forgiven it for QUITE A LOT ALREADY, THANK YOU.

Sara Kingdom: died saving the Doctor in 1966

And yes, they turned all that on its head very cleverly in season five, with Rory dying repeatedly to serve Amy’s character arc (and she dying only once, to serve her own) and everyone coming out alive at the end. And yes, season six was all about the Doctor dying, with occasional Rory deaths to lighten the mood. But, again, everyone came out alive at the end. None of those fakeout deaths can counterbalance the effect that an actual, real death of a female companion would have on the show.

The trouble with Doctor Who, of course, is that the central character is the Doctor. Despite some fans complaining that the show that came back in 2005 may as well have been called ‘Rose Tyler’ and not ‘Doctor Who’, even with the greater focus on the female companion as point of view character in New Who, the show is ultimately all about the Doctor. Which means that killing off the companions is necessarily going to be more about his story arc than theirs – and if said companions are female then that bodybag blondes (or in this case, redheads) trope is going to rear its ugly head.

It may be possible that Steven Moffat can write a tragic end for Amy Pond that is so thoroughly about her character, and her arc, and her story, that I forgive him for it, and that I prefer it to the alternative.

Is he that good a writer? Maybe he is. But I really don’t want to hear any more gloating about how heartbreaking the story is going to be. My heart is already pretty battered and worn down by the treatment of women in all my other beloved pop culture.

Amy Pond is my daughter’s Doctor. She’s the character that Jem loves most. I don’t want our hearts broken when she leaves! And I don’t think I am going to relax until I know, which way or another, what end will come. So… it’s gonna be a stressful year, then.

SERIOUSLY DO NOT READ IF YOU DO NOT WANT TO BE SPOILED FOR REIGN OF BEASTS & THE CREATURE COURT BOOKS

Yes, I am a diehard Locus Recommended Reading List fangirl. It’s where I got my book recs from before the blogosphere inserted itself into my brain. Which is why it was so exciting for me to appear on there twice – under Collection for Love and Romanpunk, and Short Story for “The Patrician.” Heady stuff! The Collection recommendation is especially exciting, as I’ve never had a whole BOOK recommended by the Locus crew. And it really didn’t hurt to be poring over the list with fellow recommendee Margo Lanagan over our breakfast bowls…

I’m really excited and proud about how much positive response I have got from people about “The Patrician” – it’s a story that felt right when I was writing it, so it’s fantastic to see it mentioned several times in this issue of Locus, by reviewers whose opinions I greatly respect. The book as a whole has gone very well too – Alisa told me this week that she opened the last box of Love and Romanpunk! How exciting is that, for a small press title to be so close to selling out, less than a year after its release?

Jason Nahrung points out all the Aussies on the list. It’s lovely to see such a diverse range of Australian authors mentioned – that is, old favourites as well as new names. And lots of women! I was particularly excited to see Thoraiya Dyer and Jo Anderton on their for their work, so early in their careers – potential Campbell nominees, perhaps? But congratulations to everyone to made it, especially those of you who are friends. Cos, you know. I like my talented friends BEST OF ALL.

Many bookloving folk in Hobart and from farther afield gathered last night to celebrate the double launch of two much-anticipated Australian fantasy novels: Sea Hearts by Margo Lanagan (Allen & Unwin) and Reign of Beasts: Creature Court Book Three by Tansy Rayner Roberts (HarperVoyager). Sea Hearts was launched by Richard Harland, and Reign of Beasts by Rowena Cory Daniells.

It was lovely to see so many family and friends gathered once again for what has become an annual tradition in recent years – long may it continue! – the launch of one of my books. Even more special was to share this with members of my writing group, who are normally scattered more widely across Australia when an event like this happens.

I began the Creature Court with ROR, who workshopped the first volume through a couple of early drafts, so it felt very appropriate to bring the trilogy to a close with many of them: Rowena Cory Daniells, Margo Lanagan, Dirk Flinthart and Richard Harland, in attendance. Sad of course that we couldn’t be joined by Marianne De Pierres, Trent Jamieson and Maxine McArthur! Their absence was felt.

The Hobart Bookshop put on an excellent launch, as they always do. I was delighted to welcome Tehani, new import to our shores, along with her family, and to finally meet Lian Tanner, another local writer whose path has never entirely crossed mine before.

And, of course, while books and launch speeches and wine are all terribly important things, the MOST important thing is that, yet again, my gorgeous daughters dressed for the occasion, as a lion and tiger respectively. Goodness only knows what I’ll do when I have a seamonster book to launch.

Thanks for coming, everyone who came!

Margo and I were both delighted to see our books hurled into the stratosphere with such panache, and of course those who weren’t able to make the event can assuage their disappointment by picking up copies in good (Australian and New Zealand only for now, sigh) bookshops.

You can find David’s report card and Tehani’s report card for this season on their websites.

Tansy’s Season Two Report Card

The Doctor: David Tennant
I do like me a bit of David Tennant, I have to say. The Tenth Doctor is often written quite unevenly, and it feels like we’re supposed to adore him regardless of whether he is behaving badly or being genuinely heroic, or maybe that’s just the actor’s charisma shining through? He did a great job of taking over from Eccleston which was a huge deal only a year into the new show – but I found the relationship with Rose dragged his character close to soppiness on far too many occasions.

The chemistry between the two actors was great, and they could really have done with less overt “romancey” dialogue, because the combination of the two felt like overkill. I liked the Tenth Doctor (and Rose) best in the non lovey-dovey episodes, particularly those with Mickey in the TARDIS (“School Reunion”, “Girl in the Fireplace”, “Rise of the Cybermen/Age of Steel”) and despite the problems with the scripting of that episode, I will always love this Doctor for the scenes in “School Reunion” where he met Sarah Jane Smith again.

This season is not the Tenth Doctor at his best, and I think he took longer to find his feet than the Ninth did, but he had some marvellous moments and it’s no surprise that he was swiftly heralded as one of the most popular and beloved Doctors of all time.

The Companions:
Rose Tyler: Billie Piper
I felt Rose lost her edge in this season, as she became a more worldly traveller and was indulged in her honeymoon relationship with the new, younger, more romantic model of the Doctor. She verged on the smug at times, and while that was obviously set up so that the end of the season would be all the more tragic, I think they could have benefited from a rockier first half to the season and smoother second half – of course, having Mickey did do that to some extent, and when I actually sit down watch all the episodes, there’s a lot less smug than I recall. Amazing the difference that putting “Tooth and Claw” AFTER the Cyberman episodes might have made, though. I don’t think it works to have the Doctor and Rose called on taking their adventures too lightly so early, and for the payoff coming so late in the season – I would have rather seen them take Queen Victoria seriously when she chastised them.

Rose is at her best when she is unsettled and not completely comfortable, plus getting a chance to show off Billie Piper’s great comic timing, so my favourite episodes with her are “School Reunion”, and those where she has to deal with one or both of her parents (or “parents”). She had some important scenes in the silly demon story, and my heart went out to her when she was casually trying to plan for a life without the TARDIS, while it was crystal clear that the Doctor was never going to live in a house with her. The final two parter was a great showcase for both Billie Piper and Rose and I’m glad they gave her such a good, strong story to go out on.

Mickey Smith: Noel Clarke
Far less of a comic relief character in this season, Mickey got a proper arc from zero to hero, which I enjoyed very much. If anything I think we could have done with more Mickey episodes in this season, to keep the Doctor and Rose a bit less coupley. But all the episodes with him in are my highlights – his tin dog speech and banter in “School Reunion” and “The Girl in the Fireplace” were lovely, and we learn so much about him in the Cyberman two parter, as we watch him grow up. And just as I start to wonder if it’s OTHER WRITERS which are making him awesome (only RTD wrote the character in Season One & “The Christmas Invasion”, and all the eps I just cited are written by other writers) Mickey return in the final two parter was worthy of the character, and a fitting farewell.

Recurring Characters:
Jackie Tyler: Camille Coduri
I totally want to count her as a companion. She travelled in the TARDIS! Her performance in “Army of Death” in particular is just spectacular, with some deeply moving scenes showing how much she loves Rose and is worried about what an endless life with the Doctor is going to do to her – far beyond the kind of airs and graces one might acquire from working in a shop! Her wary and then wholehearted reunion with OtherPete is also lovely, and conveyed in just a couple of scenes. I also really like all the humour she carries off in her time as the accidental companion – sitting in the TARDIS and accusing him of kidnap, being passed off as an incredibly aged Rose Tyler in Torchwood, that sort of thing. Plus her turn in “Love and Monsters” is great, I’m so glad they thought to show what it was like for her when Rose wasn’t around.

Pete Tyler: Shaun Dingwall
He’s not our Pete, but the appearances of OtherPete added an interesting dimension to the show (heh, literally) and I like the way he and Jackie were used to ground the alternate Earth. None of his appearances in this season came close to the emotional resonance of “Father’s Day”, but it’s lovely to have him back, and *that* hug with Jackie, plus saving Rose at the end, were lovely hero moments for him.

Though, I have to be honest, it’s a bit patriarchal, that end bit, isn’t it? Would have been nice to have Jackie rescuing Rose at that point … though she would have had to figure out the technology first! Okay, maybe not…

Harriet Jones: Penelope Wilton
I love Prime Minister Harriet all through “The Christmas Invasion”, from her flustered introductions to her cooler, harder decisions. I don’t agree with what she did at the end of the episode myself, but I understand completely why her character (and government) went there, and it’s tragic that the Doctor can’t forgive her for it – obviously he didn’t love her as much as the Brigadier! In any case, building on Harriet’s character is one of the best things about this first Christmas special, and it’s alarming how casually the Doctor chose to destroy the ‘Golden Age’ of her prime ministership. So much for the Web of Time…

Sarah Jane Smith: Elisabeth Sladen (or should she be in Companions??!)
Always a companion. ALWAYS a companion! Sarah’s return is everything I wanted – the sight of her still investigating the weird stuff, just like in the 70s was simply glorious, and there were some wonderful performances from both Lis Sladen and David Tennant in the reunion. I hate hate hate the lines that suggest that she somehow put her life on hold pining after him, and particularly that being wistful about Tom Baker (ick) is the reason she never settled down and had children. A couple of tweaks to show that it was her job and her passion to find out the more alien mysteries of life that filled her life, and the rest of it would have been perfect – because she does have every right to be furious with him about the way he left her, more than nearly all of them. Still, we got her back, and while it wasn’t perfect, her return to the show was one of the most epic achievements of this era. I’m so glad they did it.

And, let’s face it, it wasn’t the first time Elisabeth Sladen had to overcome and transcend some dodgy characterisation in her scripts. I could watch her every day.

What is your favourite episode of this season?
“The Girl in the Fireplace” – hate to be boring or predictable, but it’s a bit good, this one!

Least favourite episode?
“Fear Her” – dull and charmless, and a bit too much of everything that wasn’t great about this season. Again, a really obvious choice, which makes me a little regretful, but I can’t bring myself to view this one as a hidden gem.

Favourite guest performance?
Sophia Myles as Reinette in “The Girl in the Fireplace” – a magical performance in an excellent script.

Describe this season in one word!
Romancey!

Grade: Season 2 is always better than I remember it being, and there are some most excellent highlights, but the fact that I always look back on this series as the least interesting is … hmm. Worth keeping in mind, I guess. B-