The exchange rates between new and classic Doctor Who have never been more favourable. Forget 2 dollars for every quid, we're now getting very good exchange rates between Sylvester McCoy and David Tennent. And that's just plain scary. If this had been trotted out as a season 24 story then there would have been massed wailing and gashing of teeth amongst fandom. As it was, this is 2007, and fandom were too busy with the aftershocks caused by one line of dialogue.
Forget "You are not alone". On the merest mention of the shitcrabs, grown men were wiping the cum off themselves, using their Macra branded napkins to sluice their man juice off their pants, weeping openly and repeated punching the air as if the Pope himself had just dropped to his knees, at their feet, and felated them. The Macra, for fucksake. Standing near to end of the line of Doctor Who monsters when they were handing out comeback possibilities. During the podcast for Doomsday I had the temerity to suggest that in ten years time we'd get the Myrka bitch-slapping some Sensorites as a series climax. Of course, pre-Macra, that seemed like a ludicrous, fanciful, idea. Now, I'm not too sure.
"Mental crabs beating up nonces."
And this obsession with the year 5 billion. Just what on new earth is all that about then? You get the sense that when RTD came up with the NNYPD he was audibly chuckling to himself (each passing chuckle making Futurama a more distant memory in his mind), so why not use that as the basis for the story (mental crabs beating up nonces and everyone else on New Earth - could work [another hard day at the precinct for Lieutenant Spokowitz and his sideways scuttling laconic deputy Jonas Macra]) rather than this inconsistent mess?
"Be more internally consistent for fucksake."
Problems start early on when those two from Grant Wood's American Gothic painting state, quite categorically, that they'd tricked the system into letting them down to the fast lane when there were only two of them. And yet the rest of the main plot hinges on the fact that this is just plain impossible as the wheel of the car would lock if they tried with less than 3 people on board. I don't demand too much from my Doctor Who (pause for ironic laughter) but... be more internally consistent for fucksake. More internally consistent and less fucking gay. I mean, that was just plain shoddy. Where's the script editor when you need one...
Oh, I know. She's writing the next story...
And another thing. That naked couple, that the Doctor interrupts, the woman is reading the bloody Radio Times. She is! She's reading Alison Graham's piece at the start of the TV listings section. And they thought we wouldn't notice. It just makes me mad.
I'm off to the M1's Trowel Services for a seafood buffet. See you by the crab dip.
The Bumper Book of Made Up Doctor Who Facts has his to say about Gridlock: negotiators on behalf of the estate of Ian Stuart Black threatened to withhold the rights to the use of the Macra unless the money on offer was substantially increased. That was until they realised that no one would give a damn so settled for a gammon platter at the Little Chef of Phil Collinson's choice.