ryanjmorris Reviews

Doctor Who: Spyfall: Part Two (2020) Season 12, Episode 2

She finally feels like the Doctor

[6/10 · 5 January 2020]

Whittaker was enjoyable in Series 11, but Chibnall's hesitant writing and lacklustre narratives held her back. Just two episodes into Series 12 and Jodie can shine properly - solving problems in the maddeningly eccentric way we all know and love. This was her most assured performance to date - she finally felt like the Doctor.

Chibnall's script was fast and flashy, showcasing both his biggest strengths and most frustrating weaknesses - he's very good at rollicking pacing and snappy quips, but relies on exposition dumps and forced conversation to explain his plotting. Narratively, part two didn't fully satisfy all of Spyfall's answers, but the cast and the thrilling sense of time-travel-adventure held it afloat.

Things are looking up.

Doctor Who: Spyfall: Part One (2020) Season 12, Episode 1

Where did THAT come from?!

[7/10 · 1 January 2020]

Energy. Style. Something for everyone to do. Moments for Whitaker to shine. Any actual sense of threat or urgency.

Pretty much everything missing from the previous season was brought thrillingly back with Spyfall. We don't have the full narrative yet, so most answers remain unresolved, but all you can ask from a Part One is that it has enough mystery to see you through to the end and leaves you wanting more. Spyfall does it perfectly.

Best episode of the show since Moffat left.

Knives Out (2019)

Razor sharp, unpredictable and thrilling

[10/10 · 14 October 2019]

If I had a chunk, a piece, the tiniest little fragment of Rian Johnson's mind, I'm still not sure I'd know what to do with it. Forgive me for the number of superlatives in this one.

Knives Out is astonishing. An immensely entertaining, thrillingly escapist whodunnit that pulls the rug out from underneath you more times than you can count. Every line has a payoff, every hint has a resolution. It's razor sharp and uproariously funny, with Johnson giving every cast member enough juice to play with but plenty of room to still have their own unique kinds of fun. It's a writers' movie through and through, but the cast still shine.

Saying any more and properly diving into what Johnson is really doing here risks spoiling elements the film, and Knives Out is not a story you want spoiled. Johnson reliably plays with formula, he riffs on Vertigo and adds layer upon layer, having a blast as he does so - and it's infectious. Sharp, fast, funny and beautifully satisfying down to its body-tinglingly cathartic final frame. Knives Out is a fiendishly and relentlessly clever film, but Johnson does what he always does - he makes it look easy.

My favourite film of the year.

Early Man (2018)

Early Man is Aardman Animation's first major disappointment

[4/10 · 31 January 2018]

There's something overwhelmingly sad about a great production company releasing a disappointing film, especially when said film has a genius core concept and a terrific cast. It's as if the stars align only to lead you down a false sense of hope - indeed, disappointing films are a lot worse than ones where you never had much hope to begin with. Early Man, the latest feature by the renowned Aardman Animation, comes coupled with that very same crushing disappointment. It isn't even just that this isn't to the same brilliant standard as their other work, I'd go as far as saying it's Aardman's first genuinely poor film.

We find ourselves in the Stone Age (in Manchester, we're told by a title card in one of the film's few funny moments) where a small tribe of cavemen including Dug (Eddie Redmayne) live peacefully if mundanely in a small valley. Suddenly, their valley is taken over by Lord Nooth (Tom Hiddleston), the leader of a Bronze Age city where a giant football stadium is built. After some bartering and pleading, Nooth proposes that he will relocate his city and leave Dug's tribe in peace if they can beat his champion team in a football match. Inspired by the cavemen's history of football, Dug accepts the offer and, with the help of Bronze City townsperson Goona (Maisie Williams), attempts to train up his tribe to win the match.

It's a brilliant set up, as wacky as it is irresistible, but Mark Burton and James Higginson's script never really mines it for its full potential. Slapstick comedy rolls in fast but the film lacks the energetic pace of say The Shaun the Sheep Movie to make this style of humour work - most of it lands awkwardly and without any real punchline. Besides a late saving grace in the form of two football commentators (whose dialogue is brilliantly inspired and endlessly funny) the film's script lacks any wit or spark, seemingly carried away by the bizarreness of its premise and assuming its work is already done. There's the odd clever visual gag here and there but Early Man is a frustratingly laughless experience, making you long for the more comedic nature of Aardman's Chicken Run or Flushed Away.

As well as lacking humour, Early Man's characters barely leap off the screen either. While Dug himself is likeable enough - mostly due to Redmayne's infectious voice performance and the film's quirky character design - there's never a sense that we're watching anyone particularly memorable. Granted, not every film Aardman release needs to serve up a roster of unforgettable characters, but Early Man comes with the impression that it isn't really trying. Keeping Dug's relationship with Goona purely platonic is smart, but even then their friendship doesn't exactly glow. Character motivations range between weak and predictable, and whenever the film has a moment of celebration or emotion it's very rarely felt. Everything just comes across a little bit under done and a little bit lazy.

While there's something to be said for a film that rolls with its simplicity and doesn't long to be anything more, Early Man takes this spirit too far. Almost everything here is cheap and easy, resulting in a film that never capitalises on its various ideas and ultimately collapses before it crosses the finish line - and the film barely crosses the 90 minute mark. I saw Early Man in a crowded cinema, filled with families and groups of all ages, and it wasn't tough to notice the lack of enthusiasm about what we'd all just seen once the lights came back on. Aardman's lightheartedness and stop motion animation may always keep kids entertained, but this could be their first film that loses the love from anyone above the age of ten. Early Man has the makings of a Premier League team, but it lands more like Second Division.

Game of Thrones: Stormborn (2017) Season 7, Episode 2

A brilliant Game of Thrones looks to the past to strategise its future

[8/10 · 24 July 2017]

The episode kicks off with Daenerys, so we will too. Finally allowed to speak more than three words, her first real conversation comes in the form of an interrogation of Varys, bringing to light a part of the show's history perhaps we'd all forgotten. Varys is almost renowned for abandoning his leaders when he stops agreeing with them, double crossing them and venturing to the other side of the battle. What's to say he won't just do the same whenever Dany doesn't see eye to eye with him? It's a riveting scene - even more so for the way Dany shuts Tyrion out when he tries to diffuse the tension, this isn't his moment - and Emilia Clarke and Conleth Hill act the hell out of it. I'd comfortably label it the pair's strongest dialogue led scene in a very long time, the kind of focused, verbal sparring match Game of Thrones used to excel at but now rarely indulges in. It was great to have that back again.

There's also the undeniable thrill of seeing so many characters in the same scene. Check out the occupants of Dragonstone's war room: Dany, Tyrion, Varys, Grey Worm, Missandei, Olenna, Theon, Yara and Ellaria. Even just seeing them together feels like momentum, so to have them strategising over their plans to invade King's Landing is exciting in all the ways last week's premiere wasn't. Characters are plotting their course, they're talking about what they're going to and, in a rare success for Game of Thrones, it feels legitimately thrilling. There's a certain flair to Mark Mylod's direction in the Dragonstone war room, the way the camera cuts to so many faces, picking up so many reactions. It would've been very easy for an episode like this to slip back into mundanity and feel like more place holding, but instead it feels momentous.

While Dany looks into the past to question Varys, Cersei thinks back to the previous Targaryen ruling of King's Landing to help her prepare for the upcoming war. After a mixed bag of an attempt to rally supporting houses to her side, she retreats to a dungeon under the city with Qyburn to discover his latest, dragon-killing weapon. Again, Mylod's direction here is stunning. Cersei stands next to the skeletal remains of the Mad King's biggest dragon, her whole body not even reaching the height of its skull. As well as giving Cersei and the Lannisters a kind of back up defence and helping to even the playing field, it works as foreshadowing - is this the size Drogon will be by the time Dany attacks? Will we get a similar shot of Cersei standing by his freshly killed head? There's something about this sequence that oozes suggestion and warning, a very one-sided war is starting to look more balanced.

This idea of reflecting on the past to assist the future crops up elsewhere, too. Sam helps to treat Jorah's greyscale out of respect for his father, who he served during his tenure at the Night's Watch. The scene is annoyingly played for humour again - Sam is more than comic relief, guys - but it connects with the rest of the episode far better than his time last week did. When Jon receives a raven from Tyrion inviting him to Dragonstone, it's his fond memory of Tyrion that helps him overlook the idea that it could be a trap. We know that it isn't, of course, but it's nice to see characters in Game of Thrones take precautions again. This is a war, after all, Sansa is right to be cautious. Jon leaves anyway, sided with Davos, and makes his way for Dragonstone in what could lead to the most exciting character meet the show has offered yet.

Perhaps the episode's biggest surprise comes in the form of Arya Stark, though. A character I had already written off as lost after last week's dire attempts at moving her forward, Arya undergoes a serious course correction here. Her first scene with Hot Pie is jarring in that, yet again, she feels like an entirely different character - something the show could be exploring cleverly, yet isn't - but it's saved by its ending with Arya learning that her brother has reclaimed the North. She decides to go there instead, temporarily (I think?) abandoning her plan of killing Cersei, but soon runs into Nymeria, her old Direwolf whom she forced to flee back in season one. As Arya stares into her eyes, the wolf eventually leaves again, but this has left Arya with a sense of optimism - the moment she learns she has family remaining, her previous companion returns to her side, even if only for a moment. I stand corrected, there's hope for the youngest Stark girl yet.

"Stormborn" eventually concludes with the Greyjoy fleet coming under attack by Euron, and it doesn't quite stick the landing. The battle is too sudden, not pulling off the same shock effect as the sensational "Hardhome" did back in season five. The action is supposed to come across as frantic and unorganised, and this is reflected in the editing and direction, but it doesn't make for a particularly thrilling sequence. There's too much going on over too small an environment, leading to a mess of small moments that fail to coalesce into one larger whole. Still, what the battle represents for the show's future is enticing enough for the sloppy execution to be forgiven. Dany had her plan set out, and she won over her council. Now, she's lost her biggest fleet and can't connect with one of her most useful armies. Remember I said this one-sided battle was starting to even out? Game of Thrones seemed to be falling into a predictable route to its endgame, but "Stormborn" lands as a jolt to the system, both acknowledging the past and shaking up the future. More like this, please.

Doctor Who: The Doctor Falls (2017) Season 10, Episode 12

Peter Capaldi ensures his legacy in Doctor Who's flawless series finale

[10/10 · 2 July 2017]

Doctor Who as a show is fundamentally scattershot. There are so many genres it can take on, so many different styles and moods and tones. It's one of the things that makes this show so special yet so frequently uneven - how can you craft a suitable, fitting finale to a show that can offer so much in any given season? I guess the question I'm really asking is, at the end of the day, what is Doctor Who?

After a run of highs and lows, we've reached the time for Doctor Who's tenth season to pinpoint its identity and wrap things up. I honestly cannot think of a better way to do so than everything that happens in "The Doctor Falls". This is an episode of unimaginable emotional power, but also one that doesn't sideline last week's major threat or abandon its central sci-fi concept. It wraps up any lingering threads from the whole season, it bids farewell to an unforgettable character in Bill, it brings a multi-Master episode into genuine focus and finds a way to please both new and older fans of the show - but what's more is that it does this without ever sacrificing Doctor Who's core principles.

Peter Capaldi has spoken in numerous interviews about Doctor Who's being a show of kindness, a story that finds the best in humanity even in its darkest corners. It's about togetherness and happiness and the unlimited potential of life. Kindness is also an element that really connects with Capaldi's Doctor, a man who has endured his own journey to discover this quality and to radiate it to those around him. Think back to series 8's "Deep Breath", an episode that found a Doctor stripped of his charm and eccentricity, grumbling his way to a conclusion. Just one episode later he finds himself asking Clara a pivotal question - "Am I good man?". And so the Doctor's journey begins.

Now, "The Doctor Falls" is the beginning of the end for Peter Capaldi, as the episode concludes with him fighting off his regeneration in time for one last adventure with the man he once was, many many years ago. But the cliffhanger ending isn't important right now, what we need to focus on instead is the depth of Capaldi's performance here. Many have criticised this Doctor for lacking an identity, but I fail to see the argument. This Doctor is a man searching for his place, trying to locate peace and kindness in a universe that threatens to pull it away from him. Capaldi tells this story with every word in "The Doctor Falls" - his heartbreaking revealing of the truth to Bill, his desperate plea for Missy to stand alongside him, his final anger at the universe for trying to take this body and life away from him yet again.

I've expressed frustration that series 10 hasn't allowed Capaldi to demonstrate his real talents, but these last few weeks have fulfilled my wishes. This is the Doctor that became my favourite back in series 9: the one who brokered a peace treaty between humans and Zygons; the one who calmed a scared young child and inspired the rest of his future; the one who caused unimaginable grief and pain to a Viking girl who only ever wanted to help. Capaldi's Doctor is a flawed individual - he makes mistakes a lot - but that's what makes him the most interesting version of the character that new Doctor Who has offered so far. Peter Capaldi has been crafting his legacy since series 9, but here he completed it.

"The Doctor Falls" is really an episode of standout performances. Michelle Gomez is notably more subdued here than usual, but that makes sense when she stands beside John Simm's Master - an unhinged, borderline psychotic character this time around, and probably the best version of Simm's Master we've seen. Missy's potential "turning good" has been a lingering thread all season, and "The Doctor Falls" concludes the arc in ways both smart and devastating. Missy does indeed "turn good", but the only person to stop her from letting the Doctor know this? The old version of herself. It's a brilliantly clever way of completing Missy's season-long arc without sacrificing the very core of the character.

Doctor Who has always been about the companions, though, and boy was Bill put through a lot here. Moffat's framing device of showing us how Bill sees herself is heartbreaking - we watch people back away from her in fear of the Cyberman standing before them, but all we see is a confused Bill not understanding the truth. Bill's resolution with Heather is sure to cause controversy - it's admittedly very sudden, and I'm not sure "The Pilot" put in enough work for this to really hit as hard as it could've done otherwise - but it's hard to fault this episode's telling of the story. It's a fitting end for Bill, who has been a delight to watch all series. Pearl Mackie has really grown as a performer across the year, and her performance in "The Doctor Falls" is the pinnacle of her Doctor Who work.

Look, "The Doctor Falls" is going to be a polarizing episode for a number of reasons. The ending has questionable logic to say the least, and Bill's sudden reunion with Heather does come completely out of the blue, but storytelling isn't about logic - it's about emotion, and feeling. "The Doctor Falls" is subtle with its emotional core, never screaming it in your face nor holding it out of reach. It's an episode that is tasked with an awful lot but is paced expertly, never dropping the ball on any of its five central characters - they all get pitch perfect endings. I'm not quite sure if it lives up to the unmitigated triumphs of series 9's "Hell Bent", but "The Doctor Falls" is a brilliant episode nonetheless, and an even better finale.

Doctor Who: World Enough and Time (2017) Season 10, Episode 11

Doctor Who serves up an instant all time classic

[10/10 · 26 June 2017]

Oh can you even begin to imagine how that ending would've felt if we didn't all already know it was coming? "World Enough and Time" is expertly paced in how it builds to two enormous reveals - the Mondasian Cybermen are making a comeback, and John Simm's Master has returned. Unfortunately, these two reveals were announced by the BBC way back before the season even began. It was a move to try and win viewers back to Doctor Who, to try and get the much needed casual viewer interested again with the return of an old face from the much-adored Tennant years, but that doesn't prevent it from being an incredibly frustrating decision by the BBC.

Let's get this straight first, knowing that these reveals were coming in no way lessened "World Enough and Time". This is a brilliant hour of television from Steven Moffat, beautifully directed by Rachel Talalay. It's an episode as smart as it is intricate, as bold as it is thoughtful. Every cast member is on top form throughout, arguably stronger than any of them have been all season. I just can't help but think - how unspeakably exciting would the final five minutes of this episode have been if we didn't know they were coming?

Alas, that's something we can't change, and so "World Enough and Time" must be judged as is. The genius of Moffat's script here is subtle, impressively so. The man's writing can often feel very loud, very "in your face" about how great it is, whether or not he's earned the right to do so. But this penultimate episode holds back from that, taking a brilliant concept and using it in unexpected ways. The Doctor, Bill, Nardole and Missy are on a 400-mile long spaceship that is reversing away from the gravitational pull of a black hole - AKA, on one end of the ship time is moving much faster.

Rather than use this concept to form an episode of conventional wibbly-wobbly-timey-wimey nature, Moffat instead uses it to craft something more emotional. By pulling Bill away from the rest of the cast and putting her on the other end of the ship, a race against time begins - but it's one the Doctor has already lost. Within mere minutes passing for the Doctor, Bill has already been fitted with a robotic heart and is forming a new life down on the bottom floor. The Doctor has left an imprint in her mind though - "Wait for me", he tells her, and so she does.

Only then, about fifteen minutes in, does the episode slow down and take some time to start thinking. It's unquestionably the strongest first act of any episode this series, but what's refreshing is that the slower parts of the episode are still just as strong. We follow Bill through a hospital ward in what can only be described as the most unnerving Doctor Who sequence in a decade - a room filled with masked patients, the only conscious one repeating the word "pain" over and over again. After nearly being discovered by a creepy man she soon befriends, Bill learns a horrible truth - the other patients aren't sleeping peacefully, they're just on mute.

It's downright horrifying, and it adds a whole new layer to "World Enough and Time". Moffat's episode tackles a lot here, but his script is seamless in how it juggles everything. We cut back and forward in time repeatedly, but the transitions are slick and there's a clear path from point A to point B. Complex and confusing are two things that frequently, unintentionally, come hand in hand - "World Enough and Time" is a deeply complex script, but not once does it leave you in confusion.

This is elevated even further by the reliably brilliant work from Talalay, the go-to director for Peter Capaldi era finales. Her magnum opus for Doctor Who - or maybe even her whole career - will always be her work on "Heaven Sent", but Talalay carries a multitude of visual tones through this episode and balances them all with precision. We range from the horror fuelled sequences in the hospital ward to that playful first act in the ship's cockpit, and Talalay captures each mood perfectly.

As terrific as it is, though, most of the episode would feel redundant if it weren't for that ending - and, boy, what an ending. There's an awful lot going on in the final few moments here, but the episode cuts between scenes smoothly, allowing the tension to build on both sides simultaneously. Bill's creepy friend reveals himself to be the Master in disguise all while Bill herself is turned into a Cyberman. If this really is the end for Bill Potts, it's a damn harsh way for her to go. As the Doctor finally learns the truth, the former Bill Potts only has two words for him - "I waited".

"World Enough and Time" is an unforgettable episode of Doctor Who. Not only does it give us two massive plot twists in its final act, but everything beforehand is so elegantly structured and beautifully executed that it would be a contender for the series' highlight even before these reveals take place. This is Doctor Who as smart, emotionally charged sci-fi, the kind of show it always should be. It's never going to operate at this scale on a permanent basis, but every other episode this series - bar perhaps "Extremis" - should take a long hard look at what Doctor Who is capable of when everything comes together like it did here. Chris Chibnall, take note.

Doctor Who: The Eaters of Light (2017) Season 10, Episode 10

Peter Capaldi heads back to Scotland in a terrific Doctor Who

[7/10 · 21 June 2017]

Now this is what I'm talking about.

After a few weeks of episodes that weren't eventful enough and abandoned the characters we thought we knew and refused to properly dive into the thematic material they were offering, Doctor Who is back on track, and it's all courtesy of one woman: Rona Munro. Munro is the first writer to serve up episodes in both the classic and revived era of the show, and, if "The Eaters of Light" is anything to go by, she certainly knows her stuff.

We begin with a fairly standard opening. The Doctor and Bill have gone back to 2nd Century Scotland to track down the Ninth Legion of the Roman Army - the Doctor believes the army was wiped out while Bill is adamant it wasn't. They split up to find their answers, but after Bill stumbles across one survivor of the Ninth Legion and the Doctor finds a whole different kind of tribe, it becomes increasingly possible that neither of them will be right about what happened all those years ago.

Splitting the Doctor and Bill up seems like a frustrating choice given how underused Peter Capaldi and Pearl Mackie have been for a high percentage of this series, but Munro balances her episode perfectly. It's without question the sharpest script of the series in how it divides the episode into two halves but doesn't let any key cast member fall beneath the surface. For the first time all series, I feel like I watched Peter Capaldi and Pearl Mackie at the top of their games.

We'll look at Mackie first. Separated from the Doctor, Bill is forced into trusting other people - something she's learned to do across Series 10. Bill as a character still feels frustratingly underdeveloped but that isn't too big of an issue if she's still likable, and Mackie simply oozes likability. She makes Bill fun and giddy - listen to the excitement in her voice when she asks the soldier if he's from the Ninth Legion - but she carries a heavy weight on her shoulders when the table turns. Mackie struggled with the more hard hitting scenes earlier in the series, but she's come a long way - there's real, honest heartbreak on her face when Bill has to tell the other soldiers that Simon has died. It's a remarkable performance, unquestionably Mackie's strongest work on the show to date.

On the other end of the episode is Capaldi, who has felt so far separated from the calibre of acting he gave us last year that it's frequently been tough to identify him as the same Doctor we saw in Series 9. This year's scripts just haven't given him the material to work with, but Munro does - albeit subtly. There's no giant speech here, but Munro adds significant depth to the Doctor's words - the wise, thoughtful man we once knew makes a comeback here. The Doctor rousing the two opposing armies to come together is a notably powerful moment, and his potential sacrifice of guarding the gate for all eternity would feel empty in the hands of a lesser actor. It's thrilling to see him on top form again.

As well as being terrifically performed, Munro's episode is benefited by a real willingness to tackle the themes it offers. When Bill first begins to understand the TARDIS translation trick it feels like a fun little throwaway, but Munro soon transforms it into something infinitely more powerful. "The Eaters of Light" tackles the futility of war in a quiet way, looking at something as simple as understanding your enemy's language and how that can change your whole perceptive.

The notion that when you can understand the whole Universe everyone sounds like children is a moving sentiment, and one that fits the Doctor Who brand perfectly. Munro even plays it through to the endgame, as two rival tribes come together to defend a force more powerful than them both. After last week's under baked look at war, Munro hits the nail on the head. It's exactly what's been missing from Series 10, an episode of strong performances and nuanced ideas that understands show to shine a spotlight on them both.

"The Eaters of Light" isn't the strongest episode of the series - supporting performances are questionable and there's a few too many moments that don't quite add up - but it brings the show back to reliable ground before it heads into what promises to be a delightfully weird and over the top finale. Doctor Who hasn't been operating on the same level this year as its past two seasons, but "The Eaters of Light" is an episode that stands high in the Capaldi era if only for how it lets the man be himself again. It's about damn time.

Doctor Who: Empress of Mars (2017) Season 10, Episode 9

Passable. Fine. OK. Along those lines.

[6/10 · 13 June 2017]

Arguably the biggest problem facing Doctor Who this year is the show's refusal to "go big". Series 10 has been praised by many as a return to the basic format, but while that worked nicely with episodes one through four, we're nearing the end of the series now and there's a frustrating lack of real danger going on. "Empress of Mars", the latest story penned by polarizing writer Mark Gatiss, is a passable entry to the series, but it's not one you'll be remembering any time soon, and it certainly isn't strong enough to pull the show out of the mini- slump it's been stuck in since we visited a certain Pyramid.

In short, the Doctor and Bill find themselves on Mars. Weirder than that, they find Victorian soldiers on Mars. And an Ice Warrior, which soon leads to an Ice Queen and an Ice Warrior hive. It's a story with great potential but, as with most Gatiss scripted episodes, it doesn't really deliver on a lot of what it sets up. The sheer anachronistic joy of seeing Victorian soldiers on Mars with a giant futuristic cannon can only suffice for so long, and Gatiss doesn't do enough to keep things interesting once the novelty starts to wear thin.

Credit where it's due, "Empress of Mars" is more focused and tightly wound than the two episodes that preceded it. While dialogue is rarely his strong suit, Gatiss' penchant for great ideas cannot be disputed, and this episode continues that trend. He also succeeds in nicely splicing his episode with humour (although I could've done without the Frozen reference during the climactic moment) and the way the story builds from act one into act two into act three is some of the most seamless plotting the show has seen this series.

Gatiss' scripting isn't a runaway success, though. At the core of this story is an interesting dilemma - whose side is the Doctor on when the humans, the race he always sides with, are for once the invading alien? It's a brilliant concept, but one Gatiss seems ill prepared to tackle. His script raises the moral issue, lets it linger on Peter Capaldi's face for a few moments, and then hurries on. Where is the complex mind battle the Doctor must endure to solve this problem? Where is the thought, the emotion, the ambiguity? That speech just last season seems a far cry away from whatever this was.

"Empress of Mars" is benefited by its wacky premise, with Capaldi and Pearl Mackie clearly having fun in such an absurd story, but the episode needs something more concrete to really drive its ideas home. "Empress of Mars" successfully builds to a tense final act- helped by the solid direction from Wayne Yip - but everything slowly begins to fizzle, slipping into predictable answers and tidying itself up far too neatly come the resolution. The episode needed something bolder, something to up the stakes. This is a story set on Mars, a story featuring a whole hive of Ice Warriors. It shouldn't have felt this inconsequential.

Perhaps it's just me. Perhaps, after the unmitigated triumph of Series Nine, I'm just expecting too much. Doctor Who's tenth series got off to a flying start - it turned the ordinary into something enjoyable again after two series' that felt very different to anything we'd seen before - but everything post "Extremis" has struggled to reignite the flame that was lit when Capaldi stepped aboard the TARDIS. These last three episodes, for me, have seen the show at its weakest during Capaldi's tenure.

I guess what I'm missing is the big, emotionally complex story lines. Episodes that allow an actor of Capaldi's talents to really show off what they can do with a role like this. Pearl Mackie has demonstrated remarkable range as Bill, herself a strong character model, so why isn't the show exploring that? At present, Doctor Who seems to just not realise the potential its core cast are offering. "Empress of Mars" is just about fine, but in the series' final act - and the final act for both Moffat and Capaldi - it isn't really good enough.

Doctor Who: The Lie of the Land (2017) Season 10, Episode 8

It isn't just the land that lies in an underwhelming Doctor Who

[5/10 · 3 June 2017]

You can't fault the ambition of this three (almost four) part arc slap bang in the middle of Doctor Who's tenth series. This string of episodes has tackled a hell of a lot - ranging from a fake world to a globally invaded world - and it's somewhat exciting to see a show so far into its run still willing to try out new things and experiment a bit. Unfortunately, this little experiment didn't really finish that strongly. Toby Whithouse's "The Lie of the Land" is a disjointed and frequently misjudged piece of television - it's the series' low point, that's for sure.

Since the events of the similarly uneven "Pyramid at the End of the World," the Doctor has seemingly joined the Monks. They've now taken over the world and somehow rewritten history, almost the entire global population are under the impression that the Monks have lived on Earth for thousands of years. Bill can see the truth, though. She knows the world is a lie. Eventually Nardole resurfaces, and the two of them must track down the Doctor and attempt to sway him back to their side in order to save the world.

It sounds like standard Doctor Who. However, once Bill and Nardole track down the Doctor, the episode finds a sequence so misjudged and sloppily executed that the show we know and love seems to stop existing. The Doctor must trick Bill into believing he really has sided with the Monks, leaving her no choice but to shoot him dead and unintentionally kick off his regeneration cycle. But it's all a trick. Yup, that shot from all the trailers is little more than a cheap fake out. It's a necessary fake out, granted, the Doctor does need to check Bill hasn't been manipulated by the Monks, but the scene abandons all nuance and goes so far overboard the biggest life jacket in the universe couldn't save it.

Bill has no reason to shoot the Doctor. It just doesn't make sense. I can forgive characters behaving irrationally in tenuous times, but shooting your best friend? Little old Bill, who just five episodes ago nearly had a breakdown when someone died? There's no part of her character that makes this a believable moment for either her personally or the narrative. The Doctor's phoney regeneration is also woefully pointless, seemingly existing solely to spice up that Next Time trailer from last week. The whole scene finds a pair of lovable characters at their worst. In fact, it's worse than that: it finds them away from themselves.

Once we get through this scene the episode seems to find some focus. Finally, we know where we stand with each character and the story can begin to progress. Instead, Whithouse detours his script to Missy and halts the episode dead once more. The Doctor visiting Missy makes logical sense - she has a life outside of him and so she's bound to have crossed the Monks before, and seeing if she serves up this information is a smart way of connecting this back to her promised personality shift from "Extremis" - but the scene just doesn't work.

Michelle Gomez is a blast in the role once again, and Missy does get a handful of cracking lines, but there's an overbearing sense of wasted time looming every second of it. Due to the structure of this three parter, "The Lie of the Land" is tasked with beginning and ending this invasion in just 45 minutes. Whithouse frankly needed to use every minute he had, and he doesn't. The episode does eventually pick up the pace after Missy leaves the spotlight, but even then the results are uneven.

"The Lie of the Land" is saved by Bill, and by Pearl Mackie. She displays conviction in a misjudged scene, emotion in some deeply touching moments, and strength in a potential farewell. Bill ultimately defeats the Monks by relaying her own interpretation of her late mother across the world, cancelling out her own prior invitation to the Monks and replacing it with something stronger. It just about makes sense - and it ties in perfectly with Doctor Who's trademark sci-fi with a heart thing - but "The Lie of the Land" has been so misguided beforehand that the moment doesn't really stick the landing. Though it must be said, that is no fault of Mackie's - she remains terrific even when the episode threatens to collapse around her.

There's some fun to be had here - the performances of all four key players are reliably strong and there are a handful of funny one liners scattered throughout - but this is a concluding episode that merely adds more issues on top of a story already filled with them. "Extremis" started this arc in breathtaking fashion, but everything since has failed to live up to its promise of something weird and wonderful. Hopefully the show can pick up some more steam next week: we're heading into the series' final act now, and there's a lot of momentum to be regained.

Doctor Who: The Pyramid at the End of the World (2017) Season 10, Episode 7

A terrific final act can't fully save a cluttered, unfocused Doctor Who

[7/10 · 29 May 2017]

Well, "Extremis" always was going to be hard to top, wasn't it?

Including "Extremis", Doctor Who has been tackling the multi-episode narrative in increasingly refreshing ways lately. Season Nine's "The Girl Who Died" and "The Woman Who Lived" found a powerful new way to introduce a vital character, and the three part finale of the same season ("Face the Raven" - "Heaven Sent" - "Hell Bent") took on a multi-story approach that allowed each episode to function independently and still form one fluid narrative thread. It's no coincidence that I gave all six of the aforementioned episodes a perfect score.

"The Pyramid at the End of the World", co-written by Steven Moffat and Peter Harness, is the first episode in this current trend that fails to recapture the same dizzying successes. Now, "Pyramid" isn't an actively bad episode by any means, but it represents a notable step down from every episode so far this season - in fact, I think I'd have to go back to "Sleep No More" to find another episode as clumsy as this one.

The premise is frustratingly brilliant. The Doctor has escaped the simulation and he's filled Bill in on all of that - shown through a zippy and unique spin on the "Previously..." segment - but now the real invasion begins. A 5000 year old pyramid has mysteriously appeared over night, and it's brought the U.S, Russian and Chinese armies together in potentially catastrophic ways. With the knowledge that this was written by Harness, the man who gave us that war speech, one would be forgiven for expecting something compelling and politically motivated.

In the end, though, the pyramid is completely irrelevant. In fact, an awful lot of the episode is pointless, empty and, dare I say, boring. Doctor Who, and the Moffat era especially, is frequently brilliant in its handling of misdirection, but "Pyramid" makes the mistake of telling us how unimportant its central plot thread is and then carrying on as normal. An alien invasion should feel daunting and important and terrifying, but almost all of the scenes here actually focusing on the Monks and their plan fail to register.

The episode is more successful in its sub plot - y'know, the one featuring no key cast members until the final act. Confined to a dangerous science lab, Erica (Rachel Denning) and Douglas (Tony Gardner) were hardly game changing characters, but their barely explained scenes in the episode's middle act actually find a sense of enigma, of mystery. Despite featuring faces we don't know doing things we don't understand, their scenes almost always feel more important than those featuring the Doctor or Bill.

It creates a sense of confusion within the episode. There's too much going on: the story leaps and bounds through a huge number of sequences but rarely do they feel vital enough to the overall backbone of the narrative. The pyramid plot essentially builds to nothing - the key mystery of the pyramid itself is actually resolved immediately after the opening titles - and the science lab thread mostly feels far too disconnected to the main story to fully come into its own.

Eventually, "Pyramid" ties its two threads together, and the result is spectacular. The episode's final act is ingenious in the way it uses the Doctor's blindness as more than inconvenience - it's now a fully fledged plot point. His revealing of the truth to Bill is ultimately what kick starts the Monks' peaceful invasion of Earth, and it's handled so smoothly and so confidently that the rest of the episode feels inconsequential.

But that's where the big issue lies. This is going to conclude as a 2 hour and 15 minute story: we're now an hour and a half in and the narrative is lacking urgency and consequence. Next week's "The Lie of the Land" seems to be facing an impossible task - it has to wrap up a story that barely even feels like it's begun. The nature of this story's structure means that "Extremis" remains undamaged by the issues of "Pyramid", but it also backhandedly makes "Pyramid"'s issues more noticeable. This is an episode of Doctor Who that seemingly has far too much going on and far too little actually happening.

Doctor Who: Extremis (2017) Season 10, Episode 6

The world isn't as it seems in an ambitious, dizzyingly weird Doctor Who

[10/10 · 20 May 2017]

Doctor Who is neither as family friendly nor crowd pleasing as it once was, and there's no escaping the below average ratings, but does that stop Steven Moffat from still going all out and giving us one of the strangest, most dizzyingly unique Doctor Who stories in the show's lengthy history? No, Sir, it does not. And quite right too.

"Extremis" is entirely unpredictable. Well, saying that, the episode reveals to us that it is indeed Missy (Michelle Gomez, delightful) inside the Vault that's been popping up every episode thus far - it's hardly a revelation no one saw coming. Yet, "Extremis" does well to sidestep the reveal's obviousness in favour of even more intrigue. We know now that it is Missy in the vault, locked there when the Doctor (Peter Capaldi, commanding) refused to execute her hundreds of years ago. He has promised to guard her nonetheless, but why was she being executed? Why has the Doctor still guarded her in the vault? The mystery is answered, but fresh layers take its place.

This is only one portion of the episode though, unfolding through flashback. The present timeline - or so we think - finds the Doctor approached by the Pope. An ancient text called the Veritas has been uncovered, and every person who has ever translated it has ultimately taken their own life. After picking up Bill (Pearl Mackie, as great as ever), the Doctor and Nardole take the TARDIS to the Vatican to work out what the hell is going on with this Veritas. Once there, they uncover a sinister group of monk-like aliens who want to take over the world.

Much like you'd expect from the genius mind of Moffat, though, this is no ordinary invasion. In fact, this isn't even an ordinary world. After some rare brilliant VFX work that sees Nardole pixelate and fade away into nothingness, the Doctor reveals the truth to Bill - this isn't our world, it's a virtual reality. A hologram, if you will. This alien species is so clever that they create a fake version of their target worlds in order to practice their invasion, to get a sense of the response so that they can strategise the best plan to invade with.

It's a head-spinning concept, and the twist lands brilliantly. It's unfolded slowly, with Bill and Nardole getting all the relevant information first but unable to piece it all together. That job belongs to the Doctor, and Capaldi relishes every moment. His conversation with Bill in the episode's climax is terrifying in how scared and sinister the Doctor appears, yet Capaldi is forced to ground his performance in vulnerability. The Doctor is still blind, remember. He's facing the most intelligent invasion he's ever seen, and he can't even see it.

It sounds like heavy stuff, and it is, but Moffat's script knows when to lighten the tone a bit - morbid Doctor Who is unpleasant Doctor who, save for the phenomenal "Heaven Sent". An early sequence of the Pope wandering into Bill's bedroom is brilliantly funny, and Bill and Nardole's lovably chemistry further adds a bit of lightheartedness to an otherwise dark episode. Moffat demonstrates a remarkable control of tone here, and it's vital to some of the episode's more risky subject matter - a Religious group are key players in the episode, but "Extremis" doesn't dismiss them or laugh at the them within the Sci-Fi.

Director Daniel Nettheim further adds to the episode's impact. Doctor Who is renowned for its long corridors, but they've never looked creepier than the ones Nettheim conjures up inside the Vatican's secret library. The projection room oozes influence from 2001: A Space Odyssey and the effect is fantastically disorientating, it truly looks and feels alien - something Doctor Who can frequently struggle with on a BBC budget.

In other words, everything about "Extremis" is first rate. This is Moffat's second script of the series, but due to the nature of "The Pilot" this feels like the first time he's been able to let loose and get weird. The first five episodes found the show on good form, but it rarely left its own self explained boundaries. "Extremis" doesn't just step over those boundaries, it sprints past them - never looking back and grinning as it goes.

Grade: A

www.morrismovies.co.uk

Doctor Who: Oxygen (2017) Season 10, Episode 5

Doctor Who takes on space zombies and futuristic capitalism, nails both

[8/10 · 13 May 2017]

I'm going to dive straight into this one: Jamie Mathieson is Doctor Who's strongest guest writer of the Peter Capaldi era. Premiering with the superb "Mummy on the Orient Express," Mathieson demonstrated an uncanny understanding of how Doctor Who works and how to exploit that within a script. He then served up the frighteningly good "Flatline" followed by the sensational "The Girl Who Died," and now he gives us "Oxygen" - which is ironic in a way, as I'm fairly certain I didn't breathe for most of this episode.

"Oxygen" is without question the best episode of Series 10 so far for a plethora of reasons, which we'll come to shortly. The episode's premise is standard Doctor Who: the Doctor, Bill and Nardole respond to a distress call from a mining facility deep in space. When they arrive they discover that a crew of forty has been reduced down to just four, but the dearly departed haven't been laid to rest - instead, they're still strolling around the station.

What seems like a gimmicky "zombies in space" premise soon unfolds into something strikingly innovative, a story unlike any Doctor Who has told in years. Capitalism as a theme isn't something Doctor Who normally associates with, but it's one that really works within the context of "Oxygen" - what better way to land a futuristic political theme than by tying it into something we all need but rarely consider. The mere concept of oxygen becoming a monetisable entity is tough to buy into, but Mathieson's script is clever in the way it tackles such an idea.

Quite simply, he never gives us time to properly think it through. "Oxygen" leaps from one tense set piece to the next with incredible efficiency - one moment the dead are approaching from all angles, and it doesn't take long until Bill's suit locks her into the ground with her helmet removed while the station depressurises to prepare for a vacuum. Every set piece works, too. There's not a single false alarm or fake out, and the episode paces itself masterfully so that each action or horror sequence is stronger than the last.

"Oxygen" is on remarkable form for its first two acts, but it's the final third in which the episode finally comes into its own. The Doctor saves Bill from death by removing his own helmet and attaching it to her suit, the ensuing vacuum rendering him blind. Mathieson refuses to bind his episode by convention, consistently finding new angles to take the story - we've never had a Doctor without his vision before, and it throws the entire final act into a terrifying state of unpredictability.

The episode's strongest moment comes after even this, though, as the Doctor begins to understand the real story unfolding before him and is forced to leave Bill under the assumption that death is coming for her too. The Doctor's pleas with her spark some kind of faith within Bill - she trusts him, we know that. Earlier in the episode, Bill asks the Doctor why he always tells jokes in serious moments, and the two mutually agree that it serves as a distraction from potentially nasty results. When the Doctor leaves Bill with an army of the dead approaching, she asks him to tell her a joke, but he simply walks away.

It's a deeply moving moment, and it's terrifically performed by Pearl Mackie. The cutaways to the images of Bill's mum feel a bit forced, but the episode earns the right to do so from the strength of Mackie's performance here. There's genuine fear in Bill's eyes when her suit locks down, followed by devastation when the Doctor tells her what will happen, resulting in heartbreak when he walks away from her. Mackie has often struggled with the heavier moments this season, but she nails this one beautifully.

After a conclusion that makes sense and doesn't feel rushed - a first for this season - "Oxygen" seems to tie itself up too nicely, but then Mathieson throws us his final curve ball: the Doctor is still blind. The trick in the TARDIS didn't work. Not only is it brutally effective in the moment, but it throws the remainder of the season into uncertainty - I have legitimately no idea how long this will last. Doctor Who has been on terrific form for the past two seasons, but I can't remember the last time it felt this unpredictable. This is shaping up to be yet another superb run for the show - its third great season in a row, perhaps, which would be a record - and with a three part story kicking off next week, the stakes truly feel higher than ever.

Grade: A-

www.morrismovies.co.uk

Doctor Who: Knock Knock (2017) Season 10, Episode 4

Creaky floorboards and first rate performances make for a top notch Doctor Who

[6/10 · 7 May 2017]

Doctor Who and horror is always something I can get on board with. I've always been a big fan of the show's scarier episodes - give me "Blink" or "The Empty Child" over "Vincent and the Doctor" any day. More often than not, Doctor Who enjoys toying with the horror genre a little bit. "Listen" takes a moody supernatural tale and questions the existence of the supernatural in the first place, "Hide" turned a haunt house horror into a love story.

"Knock Knock", the first Doctor Who episode penned by Mike Bartlett, doesn't concern itself with such a task. Bill and her student friends can't find anywhere to live until they stumble on a man renting out his big creepy house for a bargain price. Obviously, they leap at the opportunity. But when the floorboards are creaking more than they should be and one of their friends doesn't come out of their room for over a day, the Doctor decides to have a little look deeper inside the house.

Bartlett's script is immediately very clever in how it forms a new kind of Doctor Who story. It gives us a sense of how the rest of the season will unfold in terms of Bill's relationship with the Doctor - her home life is already being suitably fleshed out. Taking a big point in Bill's life and turning it into a Doctor Who story should feel counterproductive, but the episode finds ways to turn this on its head. Once again, Bill is at the front and centre of the episode and Bartlett makes terrific use of the character.

After some creepy goings-on early in the episode - which are handled excellently, by the way, the initial knock knock scene in the corridor was terrifyingly executed - Bill and the Doctor are separated, which gives us the opportunity to see how Bill functions in strange circumstances away from her Timelord friend. Bartlett wisely ensures that Bill is the most intelligent of her friends, slowly piecing the puzzle together herself while the Doctor does the same on the other side of the house.

Pearl Mackie and Peter Capaldi are on reliable form, but the standout performance of "Knock Knock" comes from David Suchet. As the Landlord, Suchet is unnerving and commanding, underplaying his performance in favour of small subtleties and quiet uneasiness. There's a sense of weariness and exhaustion to him, but also something that's impossible to really locate buried even further inside. It's a beautifully textured performance, and one that hides secrets in plain sight.

As has frequently been the case in this season, things start to get a bit wonkier when the story reaches its climax. The ultimate reveal of Suchet's character actually being the son of the wooden woman rather than her mother is unexpected, and Suchet plays this transformation masterfully, but the idea isn't given enough time to flourish. There's some quick narrative reversal and some darting through corridors, and all of our characters are essentially back at square one.

Still, it's tough to dismiss how strong "Knock Knock" is in the build up to this moment. The supporting performances are strong, the horror and atmospheric work is terrific, both the Doctor and Bill are well utilised across the story. "Knock Knock" might stumble in its final moments, but it stands as the strongest episode of the season thus far purely for how off-the-charts exciting its first two acts are. Bartlett understands Doctor Who brilliantly, here's hoping he'll be back next year too.

Grade: A-

www.morrismovies.co.uk

Doctor Who: Thin Ice (2017) Season 10, Episode 3

A monster in the Thames isn't the only villain as Doctor Who heads into the past

[8/10 · 29 April 2017]

Series 10 of Doctor Who sure is following the tried and tested path, isn't it? As with Series 1, 2, 3, 4 and 5, our opening three episodes have seen one set in the present, one in the future and one in the past. Finishing up the three this time around is "Thin Ice", courtesy of Sarah Dollard who also penned last series' breathtaking "Face the Raven". The early positioning of this episode means Dollard is handling a very different kind of story than what she gave us back in 2015, and so "Thin Ice" is hardly going to be quite as memorable in the long run.

That isn't to say it's a bad episode though, because it most certainly isn't. In what may be some of the most extensive production design the show has seen in quite a while, "Thin Ice" finds the Doctor and Bill inadvertently arriving at the last Frost Fair in the 1800s. A massive party set atop the frozen Thames, all seems well for a while until glowing lights start appearing below the ice and a child is sucked under the surface. As per Doctor Who tradition, an investigation begins.

If last week's "Smile" was focused predominantly on Bill and how her and the Doctor's relationship will grow, "Thin Ice" rests more firmly on the Doctor's shoulders. Like most good Doctor Who episodes, though, the perspective still belongs to Bill - we learn about the Doctor through her eyes and her mind. After witnessing the child's saddening demise, Bill is unsurprisingly traumatised and the Doctor's indifference bothers her. "How many people have you seen die?" she asks him. He's lost count. "How many people have you killed" comes the follow up. He doesn't want to answer.

When Peter Capaldi was announced as the twelfth Doctor, we all expected a more closed off character. Lately the show has been doing a stellar job of expanding this standoffish-ness into something a bit more accessible, and "Thin Ice" continues this trend well without sacrificing the sternness we've come to enjoy from Capaldi's Doctor. He won't lie to Bill to make her happy, but he knows the truth will make things even worse. Not answering her question is just about all he can do to keep them on the right track.

The episode soon dives under the ice in a sequence perhaps a tad too ambitious for a show of this budget, but once we're back on ground level again "Thin Ice" begins to soar. Dollard's script admirably refuses to sidestep the racial and societal issues of the time, addressing them in focused and even surprising ways. As well as looking at racism, "Thin Ice" takes a stab at poverty and industry, but the episode never loses focus amid all the themes floating around. Dollard's script brings a lot to the plate, but doesn't lose control of what it's saying.

The Doctor's mini speech on humanity and how we should measure it was an effective moment, perhaps strengthened by its brevity. What he's saying here - that we don't look at humanity via industry and that species' are defined through their handling of the less privileged - shouldn't require a mass of words and big, complex sentences. The moment is simple, concise and thoughtful - it's a real treat.

Ultimately, much like "Smile", "Thin Ice" is marginally undone by its conclusion. The episode gets very chaotic in its final act and it eventually gives way to some choppy editing and a few character decisions that don't feel entirely earned - the Doctor making Bill decide their plan was very reminiscent of "Kill the Moon," only not as thought out. Still, there's nothing here overwhelming enough to destabilise an otherwise strong episode.

The Doctor and Bill's relationship remains this season's highlight, heading down slightly darker territory here but still retaining a sense of fun and loyal companionship. For the most part, "Thin Ice" is appropriately balanced with its plot and its character work, made even more engaging through its impressive production design. For the third season in a row, Doctor Who is on strong footing for something great. Here's to the end of act one, let's hope act two is just as good.

Grade: B+

www.morrismovies.co.uk

Mindhorn (2016)

What Mindhorn lacks in confidence it makes up for in wacky, wonderful humour

[7/10 · 25 April 2017]

Mindhorn is the cinematic equivalent of that friend who takes forever to decide what they want to eat: chances are you'll have a good time regardless of the decision, but that doesn't make the journey there any less frustrating. Written by lead actor Julian Barratt and supporting cast member Simon Farnaby, the film's script is scattershot to say the least. But it's also charming, light hearted and frequently very funny.

Mindhorn establishes its tone immediately in its 1980s-set TV shoot, as actor Richard Thorncroft (Barratt) tries to woo his actress girlfriend (Essie Davis) on the set of his cop show Mindhorn - he plays the titular character. We then jump into the present and find Thorncroft as a failed actor, until he's contacted by the police with a strange request. A deluded criminal on the Isle of Mann - where the series was shot and set - believes Mindhorn to be a real detective, and will only divulge information to him. Happy for the publicity, Thorncroft enthusiastically dons the costume and heads to the island, but the case proves more complex than he initially thought.

Right off the bat, the best thing about Mindhorn is its performances. Every actor here brings their A-game: Barratt is unashamedly wacky in the lead role; Farnaby turns a one-note character into a reliable joke cannon; Davis brings her character through a notable comedic journey across the film. Russell Tovey is also on hand in a scene stealing turn as the accused criminal, both his line delivery and physical comedy are perfectly executed but he still infuses his character with an appropriate vulnerability. It's a simply brilliant comedic performance.

Never taking itself too seriously, Mindhorn soars through its brief running time. This is a film of fundamental silliness, one that couldn't work if it tried to grow up a bit. Its stupidity is infectious though, especially demonstrated through a handful of terrific visual gags. In one, Thorncroft escapes the murderer by darting backwards through a bush, and in another a graffitied car window is rolled up in a rather awkward place. Like the best visual gags, they're impossible to explain without context but impossible not to love in the moment.

While the visual jokes are consistently effective, Mindhorn tends to struggle in forming its own comedic identity, or any identity at all in fact. The film is wacky, but not quite wacky enough for this to be its niche. It ends up stuck in the uncomfortable midpoint between conventional comedy and delirious farce. It stumbles between the two and handles them both solidly but it would perhaps fare a bit better if it pushed the wackiness that little bit further.

Mindhorn as a film consistently feels unsure of itself. The script reportedly took a decade to piece together but it still lacks confidence, never quite plucking up the courage to go all out - every time the film sets its sights on something insane, it always pulls back again. It demonstrates good self control, but Mindhorn should be a film that doesn't need it. Go all out, be mad and weird and wacky - who knows, you could stumble on something great.

www.morrismovies.co.uk

Doctor Who: Smile (2017) Season 10, Episode 2

A messy ending doesn't ruin a confidently character driven Doctor Who

[8/10 · 23 April 2017]

When one hears the word "Emojibots" in connection to Doctor Who, a slight panic attack is inevitable. Let's be honest, it just sounds awful. What a relief it is, then, that not only is the word "Emojibot" never uttered in the episode at all but the robots themselves are actually kind of effective. Written by Frank Cottrell-Boyce, who also penned the unfairly misjudged "In the Forest of the Night", "Smile" is an episode that didn't sound great on paper but, in its execution, has become a confident, compelling hour of sci-fi television.

It's also far darker than an episode called "Smile" has any right to be. Don't let the stunning, gleaming white set design fool you, "Smile" isn't just a cutesy, fun little trip to the future at all. When the Doctor and Bill arrive at the futuristic colony, they immediately notice something is wrong - this human colonisation is severely lacking in humans. They stumble across robots that speak via Emoji, and start trying to work out what's really happening in this bizarre place.

Unquestionably, the best aspect of "Smile" is its structure. After a somewhat unnecessary opening flash to the colony, once the Doctor and Bill arrive in the TARDIS we just stay with them, and them alone. No other face pops up until at ;east the 30-minute mark. What we have, then, is essentially a two-hander, with Peter Capaldi and Pearl Mackie more than up for the task.

Bill is already proving a brilliant addition to the show. Inquisitive without being annoying and excited without being childish, she brings a playfulness back to the show that's been missing for a long time now. Don't get me wrong, I've been a huge fan of the darker version of Doctor Who that Steven Moffat has served up for the two previous seasons, but this more light hearted return is still welcome. It also helps that Mackie is sinking her teeth fully into this role, her performance is committed without ever appearing so. She feels natural in the role, it's delightful to watch.

Isolating the Doctor and Bill for a good half an hour allows "Smile" to take on two identities at once. We have the investigation of a futuristic sci-fi world, and we have two new friends trying to work each other out. Bill is essentially learning as much about the human colony as she is about the Doctor. It's all a matter of perspective, and Cottrell-Boyce strikes that chord perfectly here. Peter Capaldi is as reliably on form as ever, he possesses such a firm grasp on his Doctor that I already dread the moment he leaves the TARDIS.

Where "Smile" fares less successfully, however, is in its final fifteen minutes - AKA, when guest stars begin to appear. It's a kind of double edged sword, really. Spending so long with just the Doctor and Bill is an absolute treat but it forces a handful of thinly sketched supporting characters into the spotlight come the resolution. Every decision made makes perfect sense, there just isn't a lot of weight behind any of it.

And that's a real shame, as "Smile" starts to offer up some dark, complex material as it heads into its final act. Essentially, the "Emojibots" are really a species called the Vardi, who see humanity as a kind of singular entity and wiped out a crew of engineers entirely through misinterpretation, creating a moral battle between right and wrong all while acting as a surface level metaphor for the society we occupy right now. Killing one sad person makes everyone around them sad, forcing them to also be killed and so forth. The Doctor words it best himself, "grief as plague".

Still, a jumpy resolution doesn't give in to what is, for the most part, a confidently character driven episode. Bill and the Doctor's relationship is fleshing out nicely, it's a dynamic we haven't really seen before and it's giving the show a nice shape up - the set up feels retro but the dynamics feel new. "Smile" is fun right up until the moment it gets dark, if it had managed to land its resolution a bit cleaner and fill its supporting characters in a bit faster, it could've been a classic. As it stands, it probably won't make anyone's top 10 list but it's still upper tier Doctor Who with its heart in the right place.

Grade: A-

www.morrismovies.co.uk

Broadchurch: Episode #3.8 (2017) Season 3, Episode 8

Devastation and beauty come hand in hand as Broadchurch waves goodbye

[9/10 · 17 April 2017]

Thank God for that.

That might sound like a rather insensitive way to begin a review tackling such a harrowing episode of television, but after Broadchurch's uneven nature this series and its handling of its second series finale two years ago, I think I'm justified to be feeling relief right now. This hasn't been Broadchurch's best series - it never was going to top its very first year, after all - but the show can lay claim to wrapping this one up on a high. Considering this is also the show's final ever episode, I feel confident in saying it's a show that will be remembered fondly. Phew.

Anyway, onto the more serious stuff. Michael Lucas (Deon Lee- Williams) was identified as Trish's rapist, having been groomed into committing the assault by Leo Humphries (Chris Mason). It's a result that confirmed many theories I've seen floating around the internet - more than two people being involved and the rape being filmed, to name a few - but also one that felt surprising without being gimmicky.

After all, Broadchurch already mastered the crazy left field murder back in series one, and series two's resolution of the Sandbrook case essentially just said "Yeah, you know those two guys who have been suspects since episode one? It was them all along! Surprise?". This finale finds a nice balance between the two: it brings a new face into the equation at the last minute while also keeping one of the main suspects involved. The fact that it also locates and establishes a believably sad dynamic between the two of them in just a short series of flashbacks lends even more weight to the reveal.

Watching those flashbacks of Leo essentially grooming Michael and turning him into a kind of rapist protégé was deeply uncomfortable. While it's kind of frustrating that Trish (Julie Hesmondhalgh) herself doesn't actually appear in the episode until we see the assault in a flashback - Broadchurch has worked well to portray the emotional destruction that rape is capable of, almost removing her from the story tonight counters this argument in slightly damaging ways - Michael's internal struggle never surpassed the level of trauma that Trish was shown to endure in the series' earlier episodes.

The emotional balancing is effective throughout. When Clive Lucas (Sebastian Armesto) breaks down in his interview and we start to piece the puzzle together ourselves, the episode manages to find some sympathy within him. Nothing overpowering, we know the guy's a dick, but it locates a human element behind the ego. The same can't be said for Leo Humphries. Mason handles the material well, especially given how dark it was - the words maybe felt a little too on the nose occasionally, as if the scene was trying too hard to act as social commentary when it really should've focused on Leo as a character. Still, Mason handled the scene admirably - it was sickening.

On the other end of the episode, we had the wrapping up of Beth and Mark Latimer (Jodie Whitaker and Andrew Buchan), finally bidding them farewell after three series'. Whitaker and Buchan's performances were beautiful tonight, the scene of them talking through the past to try and find their future was heartbreaking to watch. It makes sense for Mark to leave Broadchurch and try to recover independently, but that didn't make it any less devastating. Series two might have cut these characters short a lot, but tonight's finale gave them a send off worth remembering.

At the end of the day, though, Broadchurch has been the story of two people: Ellie Miller (Olivia Colman) and Alec Hardy (David Tennant). Talking about the strength of their performances tonight feels redundant - they're exceptional every week - but tonight's finale fixed the one wrong committed by the first series' endgame. Miller and Hardy actually cracked the case. No one gave in and confessed. It's a brilliant payoff after spending so much harrowing time watching them try to do the right thing and help people. The level of tension throughout the police work scenes was astounding too - there were multiple moments in tonight's finale where heart failure seemed like a viable way to end my Monday night.

So yes, Broadchurch is finished for good. Showrunner Chris Chibnall is leaving the sea side in favour of the TARDIS. After an uneven second series, it's deeply satisfying to see the show go out on a high. Broadchurch's first series told a community driven tale more intricately woven than any other, and even if the two stories that followed it didn't quite hold that standard up, the first year was strong enough to do that work for them. Watching a community go through hell for 24 hours of television shouldn't feel rewarding but, series two finale aside, Broadchurch understands how to engineer devastation into beauty. It's been a show unlike any other, and I'm unspeakably pleased that it's closing on a high. This was a powerfully acted, narratively satisfying finale in every way.

Oh, and that final shot of Alec and Ellie walking away while the cliff that started it all looms right behind them? Perfection itself.

Doctor Who: The Pilot (2017) Season 10, Episode 1

As the season count hits double figures, Doctor Who goes back to basics

[7/10 · 16 April 2017]

After sixteen long months, Doctor Who is back for a new series. It's been an agonising wait, mostly because the show's last full series was its strongest to date for a number of reasons: it combined its head and its heart in more intricate ways than ever before; it allowed Peter Capaldi to fully demonstrate the strength of his acting abilities in episodes like "The Zygon Inversion" and "Heaven Sent"; Jenna Coleman was able to bid a heartbreaking and poetic farewell to the wonderful Clara; finally, pretty much every individual episode was just flat out great.

It was always going to be a tough season to follow. While the year and a half long wait has been frustrating, it's simultaneously allowed the highs of Series Nine to settle, bringing expectations down a bit before Steven Moffat and Peter Capaldi's final year on the show. Immediately, "The Pilot" lacks the confidence and high- wire energy of last series' fantastic opener "The Magician's Apprentice" but, thankfully, it's a necessary sacrifice in a solidly entertaining if rarely spectacular premiere.

We begin with Bill Potts (Pearl Mackie), a young woman who works in a canteen at a local University. She frequently attends lectures given by a man who calls himself the Doctor and, after he eventually calls her up on it and questions why she attends his lectures, he takes her on as a kind of personal student. Meanwhile, Bill develops an attraction towards a girl with a star in her eye, but a mysterious puddle and an important vault below the University lead the Doctor and Bill on a ride through time and space to find the answers before it's too late.

"The Pilot" works as an episode title for two reasons. Firstly the episode's plot does hinge on the usage of a pilot, but more so this episode feels like a reboot, like a pilot of a brand new show. The premiere is framed from Bill's perspective, we follow her into the Doctor's office rather than siding with him and waiting for her. We rarely spend time with the Doctor and away from Bill, each passing scene sticking to her side. It's an effective way to revitalise the show heading into its tenth (yes, tenth!) series - it allows the Doctor to feel magical again. The sequence of Bill entering the TARDIS for the first time was breathtaking, while delivering the line "TARDIS, for short" the joy on Peter Capaldi's face made my own light up.

Pearl Mackie had big boots to fill when taking up the companion slot following Jenna Coleman, but her performance here is great. Framing the episode from her perspective certainly helps, but Mackie demonstrates an impress range in this premiere alone - her quirky one liners to the Doctor show a fun and inquisitive mind, but her demeanour and attitude are noticeably more subdued and tired whenever she's at home. A small scene of her looking through photos of her deceased mother is impressive for how well Mackie makes us feel Bill's sadness so early into her characterisation.

As can be expected with an episode introducing a companion, the A- plot feels kind of lacking. The fast paced race through time was a terrific scene - and a brilliant way of helping Bill get accustomed to the novelty quickly - but water Heather never feels like a real threat. It could be the dodgy CGI, or it could just be that puddles are tough to really be frightened of. I'd argue the latter.

Still, "The Pilot" is an effective way to kick start the new series. The performances all round are winning - Capaldi is as great as ever, the more fun he's allowed to have in the role, the better - and Moffat's script effectively balances humour with smaller character beats. Humour is the best way to a character's heart, so it's nice to see Bill demonstrating this from the get go. It feels like everyone both on board the TARDIS and behind the camera just want to have fun this year, go out on a fast paced, adrenaline fuelled high. I'm more than on board already.

Grade: B+

www.morrismovies.co.uk

Broadchurch: Episode #3.7 (2017) Season 3, Episode 7

Broadchurch's penultimate episode can't decide what to focus on

[7/10 · 10 April 2017]

Last week's episode of Broadchurch was outstanding. It was bold, focused and deeply moving. Tonight's episode, the penultimate of the series as well as the entire show, unfortunately fails to recapture that glory. This isn't an actively bad hour of TV, but it does return to the sort of just-about-fine-but-nothing-really-special standard that the Broadchurch's third series has mostly been defined by.

While last week's episode did a complete 180 on the Mark/Joe subplot and made it something actually worth all the time invested in it, episode seven stutters again. Joe's name is dropped in once, if I recall, and the aftermath of Mark's attempted suicide isn't focused on enough to recapture any of the emotion that last week's final scene brought. Andrew Buchan, Jodie Whitaker and Charlotte Beaumont act the hell out of their moments in the spotlight, but there's little depth to anything they're given to say.

This mostly stems from the fact that this whole subplot has shifted gears dramatically so near the show's resolution. The rest of series three hasn't laid enough groundwork to allow the central investigate to be sidelined, and therefore we still spend the bulk of our time there tonight. It creates a strong feeling of momentum heading into the finale, but it's tough not to feel disappointed by just how cold all of the Mark and Beth scenes felt tonight.

That wasn't the only issue, either. Episode seven is also plagued by a scene so poorly handled that it sticks out like a sore thumb - if you couldn't tell, I'm talking about the iPhone torch tribute to Trish. In what feels like a blandly modernised version of Danny's send off back in series one, the entire town of Broadchurch appears on the street and shines their phone torches in the air, to show support for Trish. It's a well intentioned scene, there's no doubting that, but it seems fundamentally torn in its goals. Does it want to act as a loving tribute to a shaken character, or does it want to break the fourth wall and address every sexual abuse victim watching the show?

It sort of feels more like the latter, which is nice and all, but it stops the episode dead. After a steady stream of police interviews and new evidence, everything grinds to a halt for a few minutes. The scene does accomplish one thing though - Trish and Cath are friends again! I'd like to say I care but Cath has been shown as such a horrible person and Trish's characterisation this series has been sloppy at best, so I'm not really sure I do.

The interview scenes are all handled well, they've made for a lot of Broadchurch's most consistently solid sequences this series and tonight was no exception. A lot of suspects were covered tonight too, which is always nice to see, but it didn't all click together as smoothly as other instalments. This is a shaky episode of Broadchurch at best, and a badly timed misfire at its worst. If the show heads into its finale on the same footing as it tackled this episode, it'll be hard not to walk away from a once terrific series without a sour taste in the mouth.

Grade: B-

www.morrismovies.co.uk

Broadchurch: Episode #3.6 (2017) Season 3, Episode 6

Even Broadchurch's weakest subplot ends in devastating heartbreak

[10/10 · 3 April 2017]

Oh, Broadchurch. I really can't tell you how good it is to see you on top form again.

Tonight's episode was the best instalment of this show since its series one finale back in 2013. Broadchurch went through a rough patch in its second outing, and even this improved third and final series hasn't quite recaptured the glories of what this show achieved four years ago. Until tonight. This was a tense, focused and deeply moving hour of television.

Episode six gives every main cast member a moment to shine. Broadchurch's best element since day one has been its cast, everyone is uniformly terrific. Tonight's episode finally, finally, brings every major player into the mix and allows them all to let loose, one by one. Jodie Whitaker was forceful and angry when Beth confronted Nira by herself, Julie Hesmondhalgh pushed Trish's harsher side to the front lines as she coldly dismissed Cath Atwood, David Tennant fell back into old memories while screaming at Katie Harford, and Olivia Colman brought powerful untold stories to the surface in one showstopping monologue.

Tonight's star performer, though? Andrew Buchan. Buchan has been terrific ever since Broadchurch premiered all those years ago, even managing to add emotional depth to this series' weakest subplot. As Mark Latimer confronts Joe Miller for the first time since his banishment from the town, Buchan demonstrates a remarkable talent for juxtaposing the uncontrollable anger and deep rooted heartbreak that Mark has suffered for years.

Unless you've been through it yourself, it's impossible to understand what losing your child feels like. Buchan manages to sell it, he makes us feel everything Mark has endured since Danny's death. The loss of his son, the uprooting of his town, the decay of his family. Through Mark's words and Buchan's performance, we feel everything. It's a devastating sequence, but it's Mark's final moments tonight where Buchan really shines.

The phone call with daughter Chloe was pure heartbreak fuel. The camera sticks close to Mark's face to disguise his whereabouts, but anyone paying attention would know he was stood at the top of the cliff side. We almost didn't even need to see it. After some (presumably intentionally) jarring editing work, Mark's body lies lifelessly on top of the sea as the camera pulls up, floating further and further away. Mark's subplot hasn't always worked this series, but its end destination justified every second of it.

What it also does, though, is fill me with scepticism heading into the series' home stretch. Presuming Ed Burnett (Lenny Henry) is a giant red herring - I'll be very surprised if he isn't - the show still doesn't feel much closer to discovering the identity of Trish's rapist. Add in the aftermath of Mark's suicide and you have a lot of ground to cover and not a lot of episodes to make use of. Still, tonight's consistent tension, A-grade performances and soul shattering conclusion prove that Broadchurch still has power behind its beauty. If it can maintain that balance for its final episodes, it'll go out on a high.

Broadchurch: Episode #3.5 (2017) Season 3, Episode 5

A slow but stunning Broadchurch favours atmosphere over plot

[8/10 · 28 March 2017]

This episode of Broadchurch felt slow. Moments seemed to last longer than they needed, the cinematography felt more subdued and quiet, not that much narrative ground was covered. By the time the hour was up, I almost felt tired by it all, as if the episode had pulled me into a deep slumber and its events had unfolded in a dream.

Here's the weird thing: it felt intentional. The slow, ground level zooms through a silent corn field. The quiet nature of the episode, no big events unfolding or being revealed until the last act. This Broadchurch combined its pacing and its visuals to form an atmosphere, to craft something different amid its ongoing investigation. That, or I just didn't get enough sleep last night.

Take the episode's opening sequence, for instance, which continues almost immediately from where episode four left us. Laura Benson is being interviewed about her sexual assault from two years ago, coming forward now for the first time, motivated by the news of Trish's rape. It's a beautifully performed scene from all involved, particularly Kelly Gough, but the episode's consistent close ups and slow repeated cut ins turn it into something more. It isn't just an investigation or an interview, it's a woman bearing her soul and talking about a scarring experience. The scene lasts several minutes, drawing closer and closer to Laura's face with every cut. It's harrowing, but hypnotically so.

Other scenes this week take a similar approach, even if they don't display the emotional fragility of this episode's opening moments. Trish and Cathy's conversation about the former sleeping with the latter's husband seems to last longer than necessary, while the escalation of its words starts with two friends and ends with two people who merely know each other, as Cathy says. Hardy and Miller's interview of Aaron Mayford also follows this trend, it's a long sequence consisting of nothing more than escalating dialogue and close ups, and it essentially reveals nothing new.

Maybe eight episodes is just too much for Broadchurch to work with, and so the show feels the need to drag its most important scenes on for longer than intended in order to give the impression of a consistent plot. Cathy and Ed's conversation about whether or not she's attractive is irrelevant to the plot, and therefore isn't granted the same slow burn treatment. The same can be said for Mark Latimer's talk with Maggie Radcliffe, as well as the brief sequence in the Lucas household.

I can only have faith that Broadchurch knows where it's going with all of this. There's an awful lot of stuff being thrown around and we have suspects here, there and everywhere but not that much focus on moving things forward. Last week gave us a handful of answers, but episode five simply picks up the pieces without really saying anything about them. It's as visually stunning as always, and the episode's cold, slow atmosphere is certainly welcome, but that narrative ball needs to keep rolling or the series will slip into unstable territory once again.

Grade: B+

www.morrismovies.co.uk

Star Wars: Rebels: Zero Hour: Part 1 (2017) Season 3, Episode 21

Star Wars Rebels ends a solid third season in thrilling, unpredictable fashion

[10/10 · 26 March 2017]

This hasn't been Rebels' best year. A lot of the promises made by the previous season's superlative finale were skimped on: Maul's journey was reduced to three meandering episodes, Ezra's temptation to the dark side was cut off by the season's second instalment, and the overall damage to the Ghost crew was never really felt at all.

Yet, season three has also been home to some of the show's strongest moments. The uneven Thrawn went from lacking to packing courtesy of the superb "An Inside Man", Sabine's entire history came pouring to the surface in heartbreaking ways in "Trials of the Darksaber", the show even had some of its most tense episodes to date with the game changing nature of "Through Imperial Eyes" and the breathtaking visual spectacle of "Secret Cargo".

"Zero Hour", fortunately, sides with the season's strongest episodes. The character moments are nicely written, just look at the way Hera speaks to everyone in the Ghost crew here, striking the perfect balance between authoritative and downright terrified; the action was thrilling, that opening space battle was brilliantly staged, and the AT-AT onslaught felt inescapable; every character was given something to do, something Rebels frequently seems to forget.

Most of all, it was unpredictable. This has been Rebels' darkest season to date for sure, meaning every second of the finale looms over you, impossible to be figured out. When it builds to a sequence of Kanan speeding back to base while a Star Destroyer blasts the planet from the atmosphere, things really could go either way.

"Zero Hour" succeeds as a finale because it takes all the work the season has done in terms of building up the Rebellion and refuses to take an easy way out. Things don't all turn out okay, it can easily be seen as a slaughter. It might not pack the emotional impact of "Twilight of the Apprentice", but this was a very different kind of season to what Rebels gave us last year. It's only fitting that the finale should stick to that.

It's been an uneven season, but a good enough one to keep interest levels high for the show's fourth outing. There's a lot that still needs fixing but, as always, when Rebels is good it's a god damn blast.

Broadchurch: Episode #3.4 (2017) Season 3, Episode 4

Great performances and a handful of answers push Broadchurch past the midway point on good form

[8/10 · 20 March 2017]

Narrative momentum are two words that rarely come surrounded in positive connotations when it comes to whodunnit crime dramas. More often than not, they all follow the same structure: episode one will deal with a crime; episode two will introduce suspects; everything between that point and the penultimate episode is used solely for red herrings, false alarms and character growth; finally, everything comes out in the finale. It's a tried and tested formula, we know it works. Yet, even in the most successful examples, it creates the kind of narrative that always risks turning stale at any moment.

It's pretty exciting, then, to see that Broadchurch is willing to wrap up a few of its most notable dangling threads so soon. After two episodes of suspect interviewing and blame passing, we're getting answers. The man that Trish slept with on the morning of her assault was her best friend's husband, Jim Atwood. The person who sent the abusive texts to Trish days after her assault was her estranged husband Ian's new girlfriend. Granted, this takes us no closer to discovering who Trish's rapist is, but it allows for a renewed focus heading into the back half of the series.

It's probably possible to massively over analyse this, and read so far into who has been revealed as what so far that we can start to rule people out. Would so much focus be put on Jim so early on if he is eventually to be revealed as the rapist? Is the ex-husband archetype all too obvious? Push these aside though, and we find more questions still unanswered. Who sent Trish the flowers and mysterious note? Why is salesman Leo Humphries so blunt and aggressive? There's a lot still to learn.

All that in mind, Broadchurch is balancing itself nicely at this point in time. Answers and questions are dropping in equal measure, creating a simultaneous sense of both mystery and resolve. It's easy for detective dramas to stall for so long that the detectives themselves can't help but feel lacklustre - Broadchurch isn't slipping into that pitfall. Alec Hardy and Ellie Miller are still great at their job, and Tennant and Colman are still great in their performances - the way Tennant played that wonderfully awkward date sequence was a delight, as was the disgust on Colman's face during the interview with Aaron Mayford.

Even with this sense of narrative momentum, though, Broadchurch's third series still feels as if its unsure of itself. The general supporting cast remain frustratingly under written, bar one or two exceptions - Lindsay Lucas may be the most heartbreaking secondary character the show has written this series. The story feels full swing now, but Broadchurch as a show still seems to be holding back. It makes for a more satisfying fourth episode, but the cracks in the series three's foundations aren't getting any closer to sealing up. If they don't, we could be in for a solid ride to the finish line but a pretty shoddy celebration.

Grade: B+

www.morrismovies.co.uk

Broadchurch: Episode #3.3 (2017) Season 3, Episode 3

A solid Broadchurch focuses on one suspect and finds glimmers of potential

[7/10 · 13 March 2017]

Broadchurch is in a tricky place right now. On paper, things appear to be moving forward. New suspects are emerging, suspicious faces are growing more guilty and peripheral characters are beginning to find their stories for the series ahead. Yet, even with this in mind, it still feels as if Broadchurch is holding back on us this year - at least so far. After a solid and confident series premiere, the ITV drama has been content to just interview suspects and hop around between characters, only offering one or two notable scenes over the last two weeks.

Luckily, even when Broadchurch stalls its narrative, it remains a show so packed with stunning visuals and great performances that a dull hour still seems a long way away. This week, the guilty eye shifted over to Clive Lucas (Sebastian Armesto), the cabbie who took Trish (Julie Hesmondhalgh) to the party on the night of her assault. Of course, some other stories emerge too, and episode three does a better job than last week's instalment at integrating these subplots into the focal story without causing unnecessary distraction.

That isn't to say they feel necessary though, because as of now, they certainly don't. Mark Latimer's attempt to continue Danny's trial feels well intentioned but misjudged. I'm not fully sure what a better way to continue Danny's story would be, but hammering in on last series' horrendously mishandled trial plot is never a good idea. Tom Miller's new found porn addiction also isn't really clicking yet, but it seems as if it has a direction, so I'm willing to roll the dice with this one and see where it heads.

The majority of episode three is focused on the investigation, and it helps maintain a sense of focus. For the first real time this series, we feel just how daunting in scale Hardy and Miller's job is here. By taking us through a number of new faces the episode adds depth to the investigation while also forming a pathway, even if it still doesn't seem prepared to fully run down it yet. By this point in the show's first year I felt as if I'd lived in this community with these people for years, I felt the impact Danny's death had. This time around I know the faces, but there's little behind them beyond the structured enigma of every whodunnit series.

Luckily, Broadchurch corrects that issue with one suspect tonight - Clive Lucas. By focusing this week's episode on him, we finally get an understanding of who he is and what he could have been doing on the night Trish was raped. It deepens his character and advances the plot simultaneously, a balance that Broadchurch hasn't been striking particularly well so far this series. Armesto's performance is terrific here, he succeeds in finding something down to Earth about Clive during his interview, but when we gain more information later on courtesy of his rather unhappy wife, his final appearance in the episode feels like watching a whole new man.

Speaking of his interview, what a scene. Broadchurch has always been the kind of show that works best when there are fewer people in a room, when the conversations can be direct and focused and important. By withholding information from us and then only revealing it in the interview room, a simple piece of dialogue is transformed into an endless roller coaster of mini reveals and subtle character definitions.

It's the kind of scene that Broadchurch offered between every ad break back in 2013. We may only get one or two per episode now, but it just about makes each entry worthwhile. There still isn't quite enough here to chew on for me - this new supporting cast just aren't sticking and the actual crime is still too shrouded in mystery for that to be easily forgiven - but Broadchurch seems to be its way to correcting this. If it stays moving in this direction, we could find that same greatness that the show forced on us back in year one.

Grade: B

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