Well, if you can’t stand the ennui, get out of the kitchen.
Yes, we’re in the strange and underfunded world of The Celestial Toymaker where the fun barely starts.
The Doctor single-handedly plays the world’s worst spectator sport, while Steven and Dodo are forced to tackle ‘sighted-man’s buff’, ‘spot the comfy chair’ and ‘hunt the dramatic tension’. And, if you think Strictly seems to go on forever, try the Toymaker’s version, aka They Shoot Time Travellers, Don’t They?
Along the way they meet a mute clown, a clown you wish was mute, the 1966 ‘Mr & Mrs’ champions, a cockernee cook, a (low) Quality Street soldier and the copyright-skirting Billy Butner of Greyflyers School.
Dodo reveals that she’s all tells and no poker face, Steven tries not to kill everyone in sight (especially Dodo) and the Doctor unleashes his inner Mike Yarwood.
So did Jim and Martin dive into the fun like toddlers on tartrazine or would they have preferred to have joined Hartnell in Bognor?
Find out here.
“I hate conducted tours.”
Dodo single-handedly sows the seeds of the Doctor Who Experience’s eventual demise, way back in 1966.
This month we find ourselves in a land where greedy leaders feather their own nests at the expense of the downtrodden underclass. And it’s much the same in Doctor Who’s The Savages, screened some 52 years ago (badum tish!)
The Doctor is drained, Steven is ordained and Dodo is reined-in on a world where the big city holds no attraction for our clan of outsiders, a bunch of sapped saps with their very own cheeky girl (but mercifully no Lembit Opik).
Who else gets to use the Doctor’s vibrator? Did Jano and his mates manage to video The Daleks’ Master Plan? Who’s producing destructive vapours and shouldn’t their diet be looked at?
And did Jim and Martin find The Savages to be a shot in the arm or an enervating experience?
Tune in to find out.
“I’m not a mountain goat and I prefer walking to any day. And I hate climbing.”
If you think Steven Moffat era Doctor Who taxes the mind, imagine being part of the 1965 audience and having to decode anagrams of the scripted lines on the fly.
And the mind is boggled in many other ways by The Time Meddler. How can an 11th Century monk have a wristwatch, electric stove and gramophone? Has the BBC lost the plot? Has Dennis Spooner been hot-spooning? Or perhaps the pee-drenched padre is to blame and thus a legitimate target of the (extremely) long arm of Doctor Tickle.
Our eponymous hero and visiting Vikings alike get merry on mead from Hur indoors, while Vicki suffers sexism from Steven, the new companion who likes to attack first and ask (too many) questions later. And then not believe any of the answers.
Will the groat ever drop for Steven? Will he find the bovine astronaut he seeks? What do you do if your TARDIS is smaller on the inside? Whose beard is camping out on Eldred’s face?
And did Jim and Martin delight in this first ever pseudo-historical or do they disapprove of all this time meddling?
Find out here.
“Let’s hope the piano knows it.”
Merely false modesty from virtuoso ivory ticklers Steven “Regret” Taylor and Dodo “Dodo” Chaplet as we soon discover in the horse-flop flecked epic, The Gunfighters.
The Doctor (“Caligari”) has a busted tooth extracted but that isn’t the only malfunctioning thing coming out of anyone’s mouths in this one… no siree! For accents shuttle back and forth across the Atlantic like speeding bullets, often more Tottenham than Tombstone.
But can our Doc and his fellow “thesbians” survive the crossfire between the more whiskery (whiskey-ery?) Doc and the Clantons?
Is Charlie the Barman related to Ghostlight’s Nimrod?
And is it possible to have a song entirely bleached from one’s mind? And, if so, where does Jim sign?
So stop right there stranger an’ take a listen to this here podcast to find out the answers. To some other questions.
NB: Our thanks to Keeper1st on YouTube for the basis of the accompaniment for the song at the top of the episode. No thanks whatsoever to Jim for the “singing” though.
“Take them to the Security Kitchen!”
Perhaps the Universe’s only combined containment and mass catering facility can be found on The Ark, the location of the 1966 Hartnell space opera of the same name.
Jim and Martin walk its corridors to find humans in their underwear and the Fab Four (along with the Groovy One, the Trendy Two and the Gear Three), all suffering horrendously bad hair days.
The Doctor gets an invisible friend, Steven fails to notice a potential girlfriend and Dodo is unlikely to make any new friends, bearing as she does a vile infection and a variable accent.
Is the future of Mankind in safe hands or should the weirdly affable Boris Karloff and the Richard III wannabe keep one eye on the Monoids?
Find out here…