NARCS
“19”
Clue Records
NARCS (previously British Racing Green) are an alternative rock band from Leeds and “19” is their debut single.
Recorded by Simon Humphrey some 36 years after his engineering credit on the Clash’s debut album, "19" is the the first offering from their own album due for release on 2nd September on Clue Records.
The single is tight, melodic, insistent, well produced and at 2 minutes 22 seconds harnesses as much muscle as you can pack into a song. It has energy, verve and drive in equal measure and doesn’t contain a single ounce of fat.
Comparisons with the Arctic Monkeys don’t flatter them a jot, but are not necessarily helpful in terms of describing their sound. Granted, they sing in their regional accent and give every impression that they are going somewhere but NARCS already know who they are.
Although the sound is raw it has a level of musical sophistication uncommon in many of the local bands doing the rounds at the moment.
At the risk of going overboard I have to say this is, in my opinion, the best single of the year so far. Really!
Karl Shore
Monday, 5 August 2013
Wednesday, 24 July 2013
Did You Hear Me Review
The Mavis Seed
"Did You Hear Me"
The Mavis Seed are a four piece, Leeds based acoustic folk/pop band and “Did You Hear Me” is the live follow up to their well regarded 2012 album “Caravan”.
The album captures 8 songs from their cannon and is described as “100% Live” for that reason alone, it is worthy of our attention.
Although they create music which broadly fits under the folk banner there are many touches of jazz, soul, blues and Americana spread throughout their work.
The live sound is captured beautifully and I suspect it is where they are at their best. The vocals are shared between Guitarist Reedy Zined & Sara Dee, both of whom have voices well worthy of writing home about. It is when the voices combine, however, that The Mavis Seed show their real prowess. Their voices are perfectly matched and the sound they create between them is, to use a cliche, greater than the sum of its parts.
Among the highlights from the album are “Still Waters” which brings to mind Elvis’s early acoustic recordings and “Travelling man”, which combines a cracking melody with soaring harmonies.
The title track “Did you hear me” offers the combination of a deceptively simple, pared down guitar refrain and the highly accomplished, heartfelt vocal by Sara Dee. It is simply beautiful and for me, it is the standout track of the album.
The album has accompanied me up and down the M1 for the last couple of weeks and has grown on me with each listen. It is due out on 7th August and The Mavis Seed will be appearing at Drighlington Rugby Club, Leeds on 16th and The Snooty Fox in Wakefield on 31st.
Karl Shore
"Did You Hear Me"
The Mavis Seed are a four piece, Leeds based acoustic folk/pop band and “Did You Hear Me” is the live follow up to their well regarded 2012 album “Caravan”.
The album captures 8 songs from their cannon and is described as “100% Live” for that reason alone, it is worthy of our attention.
Although they create music which broadly fits under the folk banner there are many touches of jazz, soul, blues and Americana spread throughout their work.
The live sound is captured beautifully and I suspect it is where they are at their best. The vocals are shared between Guitarist Reedy Zined & Sara Dee, both of whom have voices well worthy of writing home about. It is when the voices combine, however, that The Mavis Seed show their real prowess. Their voices are perfectly matched and the sound they create between them is, to use a cliche, greater than the sum of its parts.
Among the highlights from the album are “Still Waters” which brings to mind Elvis’s early acoustic recordings and “Travelling man”, which combines a cracking melody with soaring harmonies.
The title track “Did you hear me” offers the combination of a deceptively simple, pared down guitar refrain and the highly accomplished, heartfelt vocal by Sara Dee. It is simply beautiful and for me, it is the standout track of the album.
The album has accompanied me up and down the M1 for the last couple of weeks and has grown on me with each listen. It is due out on 7th August and The Mavis Seed will be appearing at Drighlington Rugby Club, Leeds on 16th and The Snooty Fox in Wakefield on 31st.
Karl Shore
Thursday, 18 July 2013
Infantile Solipsism
Rhubarb Bomb started contributing a weekly column to the Wakefield Express in October 2012. We have now collected the first six months into one singular package, which we have called 'Infantile Solipsism', due to that being the most unlikely phrase we managed to slip into a local paper over that time.
The collection is free to look through and download too. Looking back is quite strange as, due to the very regular nature of the column, I soon forget what was annoying me a month or two back. They are about half topical and half ranty. And there's one that got all kinds of people angry, with one man writing a strongly worded letter demanding that I be fired from my job. Only thing is, he sent it to someone whom I didn't work for. Still, the intent was there I guess.
So, feel free to browse through, here is the link:
http://issuu.com/rhubarb_bomb/docs/infantile_solipism_-_dean_freeman
The collection is free to look through and download too. Looking back is quite strange as, due to the very regular nature of the column, I soon forget what was annoying me a month or two back. They are about half topical and half ranty. And there's one that got all kinds of people angry, with one man writing a strongly worded letter demanding that I be fired from my job. Only thing is, he sent it to someone whom I didn't work for. Still, the intent was there I guess.
So, feel free to browse through, here is the link:
http://issuu.com/rhubarb_bomb/docs/infantile_solipism_-_dean_freeman
Saturday, 13 July 2013
A Visit To Clive Smith's House
As anyone who was in
Wakefield Theatre Royal around 13:15 on Saturday 8th June 2013 will testify,
Clive Smith has never been very good at sticking to his appointments. On that
occasion I was very much put on the spot not only by him, but by his manager Alan
Lobley, who asked I read a letter out in place of Clive appearing (thanks to
Joel Rowbottom for getting a photo of this forgettable moment here).
Within the madness of
that day and weekend, I didn't really have time to consider what had happened.
What I was told was this: Alan had gone to pick Clive up that morning, ahead of
his first appearance at Long Division, to find the front door ajar and, in the
kitchenette, a letter by an empty bottle of whiskey. This letter, which Clive
had somehow posted to himself the previous year was (and is) the only clue as
to where he might be.
At the time I had the
strong sense that I was being had. Clive is a known joker, and it seemed like
him and his manager might be playing some odd prank upon me.
But last week, after
being invited round to Clive's still empty Ossett house by Alan, I had to
conclude that Rhubarb Bomb writer and well known cabaret singer Clive Smith
does appear to have vanished into, or out of, thin air.
Alan had called me
round to assist him going through some of Clive's things. He's a long-time
friend of Clive - they've been through it all together. He doesn't seem the
rock and roll type. He's a small, thin man with dark hair in a fluffy side
parting. His look is somewhere between an efficient but ambivalent Nazi officer
in an afternoon drama, and 'the quiet, brooding one' in a 70's sitcom about
teachers in a rough northern comprehensive. Perhaps it is the fact all my
reference points for his appearance seem to bounce back towards television that
showbiz ended up being his calling.
I'd not been to Clive's
house before. It was more chaotic than I expected, as the man himself was
always well presented, most often in a tight fitting pinstripe grey suit, a
slightly darker shade than his trademark slicked back silver locks.
I've learnt that Clive
was a lover of the post-it note. Their spread across the house would suggest
inspiration most often came to him in the bath, in the shed, and in the
armchair. Little notes for song lyrics, potential collaborations, or even
graphs of 'song power' are littered around the house. It's hard to tell from
some of the references to TV shows whether they had been left around the house
for well over ten years, or Clive just watched a lot of UK Gold.
There were many other
mementos from his years in the biz, including some gold records (slightly put
in question by the large number of gold spray paint cans present in his man-shed)
and photo's with celebrities who I didn't recognise, but Alan seemed to expect
me to be impressed as he walked me along the wall that displayed them, like I
was the Queen at the Royal Variety.
But most interesting of
all, and the real reason Alan had dragged me round, were the plans and
notebooks for Clive's next album, tentatively titled 'The Why Of Clive'. Some
demos existed too, rough sketches of riffs and melodies, but nothing too fully
formed.
The thing was, I've
never been much of a fan of Clive's work. I liked his sample cut-ups from about
five years ago, but after that (and since he started writing for Rhubarb Bomb
to be honest) he seemed to jump styles in what appeared to be a desperate
attempt to follow what was cool which was problematic because that's a
difficult thing to do at the best of times, especially when your own 'cool-dar'
is a bit screwy.
But these demos were
really interesting. I gather from his notes (and I didn't and couldn't even contemplate
reading everything) that these were half remembered ideas and tunes that he had
discarded in the past for fear they had been too 'revealing' of his true
nature, and didn't follow the persona he had cultivated and had great success
with over the years. He felt it was time to bring them out of the cellar and
into the harsh light of day, for better or for worse.
Alan was clearly moved
as we looked through and cross referenced what we found. And it was then an
idea formed. What if these songs could be finished off? I don't know which of us
actually suggested it; the conversation and our immersion in the material just
kind of led things that way. Alan said it might be just the thing to bring
Clive out of hiding. I had to bite my lip then, because from what I know of
Clive, he wouldn't have run away in the first place. That letter just over a
month ago spelt out a much harsher result, but I guess that's just a gut
feeling.
Despite not really
having time for this kind of project, I must admit, it did intrigue me. So, I
have agreed to act as a kind of 'director' in charge of finishing the album. We
reckon we've got the raw material for around ten songs. Some have musical
sections complete, some have lyrics half sketched out. I am going to try and
involve Clive's many fans in its completion; it'd be great to see the Wakefield
music scene Clive gave so much to rally round and see this self proclaimed
'potential super-masterpiece' brought to light.
So I left the
house with a strange feeling in my bones. Being me, I love a project to get
stuck into and loads of ideas have already started bouncing around my head. But
I feel apprehensive too; I need to keep my distance. In creative ventures such
as this, it would make sense to try and 'get inside the head' of the subject,
but in all honesty that's not something I want to do. But it'd be nice to get a
Clive Smith album out there, for all the people who wondered what all the fuss
was about. Who's with me?
Tuesday, 18 June 2013
Clive's Letter
On the morning of June 7th, Clive Smith's on/off manager and long-time friend Alan Lobley went to pick Clive up from his Ossett home for a final rehearsal of his Long Division set the following day. Upon arrival he found the front door ajar. Inside there was no sign of Clive, but he did find a letter beside an empty bottle of whisky, a picture or Margaret Thatcher and a song lyric.
Clive never turned up for his Long Division show. Alan brought the letter he found to Long Division and asked that it be read out to the small audience that had gathered. Clive is still missing. Alan has now asked this letter be published in the hope it will shed light on Clive's motives and whereabouts.
Dear Clive,
Hi, it’s me, Clive! Yes, It’s
you (meaning me) writing a letter to you (myself) which is you. And you are in
the future but it won’t feel like that when you are there. It will feel like
just another day in the present day. How wrong you are!
The date today is June 2nd
and the year is 2012. Actually, it is the early hours of June 3rd.
And I am going to come straight out and admit it; I have had a few ales this
evening Clive. As you can likely tell from the handwriting which as you know is
usually impeccable. We worked so hard on it at school, didn’t we?
The reason I am writing it is
because something amazing happened today. I went to that Long Division
Festival. Remember how we used to pooh pooh the youngsters and their music? How
we thought anyone under 50 didn’t know about real rock and roll? Well it changed today. I saw some amazing
stuff, but nothing more so than these Runabout Kids, local lads really giving
it some. The crowd were lapping it up. It was like Teeside Rollerderby Disco
Provincial finals in ’78. I couldn’t believe it.
It’s made me realise
something. You’ve realised it too, and I feel envious that you got to go
forward and act upon this grand moment of clarity whilst I’m stuck back here in
2012. But I wanted to write this letter to you so when you make it big,
headlining Long Division next year, you’ll remember how far you’ve come. How
high you have flown, and from such depths. I wonder how you’ll feel when it
arrives in the post?
You were a star Clive, but it
was a long time ago now. No-one in the Wakefield
area could own a club-land stage like you. No-one. Then Billy Idol came along,
and with him the whole punk explosion. The summer of ’81 will forever be
blazened on your soul. It created the legend, the myth and the man. But it
meant you would never again play by the rules.
That was fine when you were a
young thirty something. But as the years progressed, you became bitter. The
press releases would champion the fact you had 76 albums under your belt, all
on different record labels. Come on Clive, it’s time to admit no-one ever signed
you. Those were 76 labels you set up, and then proceeded to go bankrupt. Every
one of them. We tried to make that some internal badge of honour, but it broke
our hearts. Why would no-one listen to us?
It was a bad nineties of
caffeine addiction and rehab and a worse early nougties of being so uninspired
you couldn’t even be bothered to get addicted to something, not even for the
sake of a press release. We sneered at the youth and hated their attempts at
self-improvement, or hated them more when they refused to improve and just stayed
the same. Our own works dipped below the basic level of acceptance for the
Clive Smith label – GENIUS – and some of the albums were just ‘very good.’
These were dark times indeed.
It’s not about bravado
anymore. It’s time to stop preaching about the way things should be. What had
we become, Clive? That man who sits in the corner moaning about yester-year and
how down on our luck we are. Dismissing everything new but – not even that –
just people trying to do something new with their lives. Who are we to go
around telling people how things should be, and pointing out everyone’s flaws,
regardless of how plentiful they may be. You went off the rails Clive, you
became everything you hated – the narrowminded, pre-punk authority figure,
distributing out of date wisdom.
Well never again – that
changes today. You’ll get on the tweet and on the line and do the type with the
code. You’ll be humble and bright and optimistic again, like these youngsters
what I seen today.
I am your biggest fan Clive,
you know that. And I know over the course of this year you will have made it
back to the place you belong; the word on everyone’s lips, the talk of the
town, the subject of media speculation. And you’ll have done it by building
bridges with these people like The Runabouts. It’s time to accept you don’t
have all the answers. It’s not about being the biggest voice in the room. You
can learn from them instead of boisterously telling them what to do. Then, once
again, you’ll have the best voice in the room.
So here’s a checklist to see
how well you’ve done. I’m sure you’ll have surpassed this and achieved things I
can’t even dream of!
-
Headline Long
Division Festival at The Hop
-
Get your music on
the line, and set up a tweet.
-
Release a best of
compilation boxset, with a track from every single album you’ve done (yes, including
Thatcher Calypso Quandry.)
-
Make friends with
Runabout Kids. You’ll get on like a pub on fire. Possibly record a duet, or
just hang around with them and learn about haircuts and cool swear words.
-
A national 10
month tour of Working Men’s Clubs, focussing on the North East
-
Get offered the
cover of NME, then turn it down.
-
Finally write
that concept album about motorways, and promote it by playing a series of gigs
in service stations, and on the back of lorries driving up and down the M6.
The future is bright, future
Clive. I am almost sad to say goodbye. But the night is late and I think I can
see the sun rising over Ossett, so it’s time for me to go. It’s been an
emotional few years old pal, especially with the missus passing on, God rest
her patient soul, but the best is yet to come. Don’t be scared. Don’t let the
bastards get you down. Remember; dedication to an ideal, no matter how
unachievable, ridiculous and fanciful it may seem, is what being Clive is all
about. Life? What is it but endlessly trying to better yourself whilst no-one
else gives a damn? Well we’ll show them Clive, we’ll show them all. You are Wakefield ’s only future, Wakefield ’s brightest sun / son.
Catch you soon old pal,
Clive
Wednesday, 5 June 2013
Simon Armitage Interview
Prior to his appearance at this year's Long Division Festival, Simon Armitage answered a couple of questions about his life in a band, The Scaremongers, and how being a lyricist / singer differs from that of a poet.
- When you perform readings or play gigs,
how do you pick your setlist? Do you empathise with bands like The Fall, who
have such a vast history to pick from, and such a relatively short space of
time to perform?
We have a repertoire of about 15 songs, so not
an extensive choice! I think in Wakefield we'll essentially be playing
the album Born in a Barn from
start to finish - like a band that's come together again after many years to
re-live their moment in the sun, or perhaps the drizzle in our case. We
have been known to throw in the occasional cover version - Magazine's The Light Pours Out of Me we played at
one gig. Someone came up to me afterwards and pointed out it wasn't as
good as the original. Well, no (der).
- When an idea comes to
you, be it an image, concept, piece of wordplay, do you instantly know which
medium it will work best in (by which I mean poetry / prose / lyric) or is it
more an organic process?
The songs were purpose built. Craig Smith had
already penned a version of the lyrics, most of which were changed completely,
but the odd phrase or chorus got through. So they were, in the end,
collaborative, rather than pieces I would have written left to my own
devices. Yes, I think I DO know from the outset what a piece of writing is
destined to become - it's part of its conception - and it's rare that something
makes a transformation into another form, say from song lyric to poem or the
other way round. I had considered publishing the lyrics at one point -
I'm pleased with them - though not as poems. Though they are, on the
whole, too wordy. I know this because I struggle to remember them
(especially after a few drinks, which I need before we go on stage).
- Are you more drawn
to a descriptive, long form lyricist like Jarvis Cocker, or the more concise,
killer one-liner style of someone like Morrissey?
I think Cocker and Morrissey are very similar,
though Morrissey got there first. I like detail, especially of the
kitchen sink variety, so plenty of noun objects and brand names. And I
like lyrics that tell a story, no matter how obliquely, or set a scene, or
write a sketch. I think that's very much part of the British tradition,
both in lyric-writing and poetry. I was hoping that we might be able to
project the lyrics onto a big screen at Wakefield ,
you know, with a bouncing ball going from word to word, to divert the eye from
our general ugliness on stage at the very least. But of course we've done
nothing about it. It took twenty five years to produce our first album,
so we're not exactly known for our haste.
- The music industry
appears to be imploding, with very little money left in it for anyone but the
largest artists. I have a vague feeling that in a couple of generations, music
production will fall in line with other art strands and be largely funded by
subsidy / grants / community projects. Do you have any thoughts on this, and do
you think Rock & Roll as we knew it is dead?
I think it's facing huge challenges and
chance, but maybe that's a good thing because the whole scene had become fat,
bloated and a total cliche. It's virtually impossible for anyone to make
any kind of rock and roll gesture these days without looking like a parody, so
unless there's an element of self-deprecation or irony, you're just going
through the motions. Live music has become more important, as has
diversification - sounds and attitudes that are less easily anticipated.
Is Rock n Roll dead? Certain form of it, possibly. The
dinosaurs become extinct, and they had big teeth and massive bones, so
it's entirely possible that rock n roll can take its place in
the fossil record. But there will always be popular music (as long as
there are people!!!).
Monday, 3 June 2013
Doctor Who: Series Seven and Beyond
The Name Of The Doctor was the first time Series Seven of Doctor Who has really
worked for me, and got me as excited and involved as I was for Series Six (and
all the proceeding runs of New Who).
I loved Series Six. The
Impossible Astronaut / The
Day Of The Moon double bill that opened it was surely one of
the maddest, most unlikely infiltrations of Saturday night lite-entertainment
by hardcore Sci-fi ever. The scope and ambition of the ideas was off the
scale, and the rest of the series shared similar complex riddling with
impressive standalone episodes.
This seemed to be the
kind of series Moffat excelled at creating. In the RTD era, his contributions
rightly stood out, largely because they were built around simple but
mind-bending ideas. His core belief was that one episode of Doctor Who
should have a concept others would stretch out into a film, or even a franchise
- and on this he delivered, though we must now bare in mind that his most
beloved creations; The Weeping Angels and River Song have now had more screen
time than they would have had in a feature film.
So the idea for Series
Seven, that each episode is presented as its own genre piece, a blockbuster
film every weekend, always seemed odd to me. It's of massive credit to the BBC
that each episode has appeared to have the budget, direction and production of
a professionally created feature film. But has the writing matched it? And were
the smart but simple ideas that defined Moffat's first two series noticeable by
their absence?
Series 6 ended on an
interesting note; The Doctor, faced with the realisation that he is feared
across the universe concludes it's perhaps time to take more of a backseat. His
apparent death at Lake
Silencio is the perfect
opportunity to step into the shadows. This was followed up by the pleasingly
low key The Doctor, The Widow and The
Wardrobe Christmas episode, where he off-handedly referred to
himself as The Caretaker.
This has now been
largely forgotten, and as a concept does not fit well with a desire for weekly
blockbusters. Some settings have suited this idea; nuclear submarines, American
ghost towns, haunted houses, whilst other acts, such as teaming up with UNIT or
riding up the side of the London Shard on a anti gravity motorbike are less conspicuous.
Living in the shadows
didn't initially compute in his first adventure of the series, when he met his
oldest enemies, the Daleks. But this episode did introduce Clara, and saw The Doctor's
existence wiped from their memory banks. But this wasn't mentioned again until Nightmare
in Silver (over 12
months later) when the Cybermen claimed they could reconstruct his life through
the gaps he had left behind. Otherwise, instead of leading to more personal
episodes, like The Lodger, it has been of little note.
Series Seven
So what was series
seven about? Well, the first half was pre-occupied with the departure of Amy
& Rory and for this reason alone fells like its own mini-series. The
Doctor's sadness (which he referred to as The Dark Times in the last episode)
does lead us into the second half of the series and towards that
astounding conclusion, but does leave us with an inconsistent set of episodes.
Clara's appearance, or
The Doctor’s interest in her never quite worked. Isn't it a bit of a stretch
that The Doctor keeps chancing upon these companions who are 'impossible', and
are also young, beautiful women? The doctor's connection between Clara in
Victorian London and The Asylum Of The Daleks is based purely on a coincidental
mention of the word Souffle. I think some tighter writing could have explained
the doctors interest in her (the opening to The Name Of The Doctor doing this well, but a
little too late) as more of a replacement for what he'd lost; something
achieved with slow burning but devastating effect with Martha, when she
realised he was taking her to the same places he'd travelled with Rose.
The 'Who Is Clara?'
mystery simply hasn't been engaging. I've not had reason to care. It's just a
mild curiosity. It is too similar a premise to our previous ponderings about
who Amy was - why she had no parents, why she had a crack in her wall, and
later why she had visions of Madame Kovarian wherever she went. Even The
Doctor's less than random visits (for example to the psychic Emma Grayling) to
people who might offer insight into Clara's really identity echo the doctor's
nonchalance in visiting the beginnings of The Flesh to find out why he had a
fake version of Amy travelling with him.
As well as supposedly
dealing with that question, the series has also been preoccupied with rebooting
older characters. The supposedly lightweight RTD dedicated a series to giving
this treatment to The Daleks, Cybermen, The Master and Davros (albeit largely
focussing on a series finale). Series Seven had a quick work through The Great
Intelligence, The Ice Warriors and The Cybermen (again) and although the first
of these was built around a larger idea, the others were based on gimmicks,
however enjoyable they were.
Interestingly, the
latter two could indeed be seen as metaphors, or signifiers of what is to come,
in the wake of the final episode. The Ice Warrior split in two; the hulking
armour shell opening to reveal another character inside, one just as deadly.
The Doctor's battle with the Cyber Controller was presented in interesting
style, with the doctor facing off against himself inside his own head.
In Journey
To The Centre Of the TARDIS Clara
and the rest of the crew face dark future versions of themselves. And on the
rooftop towards the end of The Bells Of St John a fake, evil version of The Doctor
appears, under the control of The Great Intelligence.
The Doctor having a
'dark side' is of course nothing new. It is generally laid on by referencing The
Time War and him committing genocide upon his own people, as well as the
Daleks. A different spin on this was seen through Tennant's Time Lord
Victorious in The Waters Of Mars which I was always
disappointed was not developed further. Perhaps now it is?
The first suggestion of
this dark side having a physical presence was perhaps courtesy of The Dream
Lord. That telling glance at his own reflection in the TARDIS console seemed to
suggest it all meant more to the doctor than a trip induced by psychic pollen.
And do you remember The God Complex, when The Doctor entered
his room containing his greatest fear? We, at that time, were led to presume it
was likely himself. But can we now assume it was John Hurt sat in there?
One of the pleasures of
Moffat as lead writer is that he is quite the prankster, and loves toying with
the fans. The appearance of all the previous doctors in The
Name Of The Doctor is
an amusing response to presumptions of what (and who) will feature in the 50th
anniversary episode. His early introduction to Clara was another. You always
get the feeling he is having fun; detractors would say he is often having more
fun than the audience.
The audacious
captioning on that final shot was another example of this. Build to a climax
over a series (or three series?) then stick a fourth wall breaking title on the
screen: "Introducing John Hurt as The Doctor" indeed!
50th Anniversary
So what does this tell
us about the 50th anniversary show? It's possible that John Hurt is a version
of The Doctor before he named himself as such, a pre Hartnell version, possibly
'The Other' referred to in the EU? This seems unlikely, purely because the
captioning referred to him as The Doctor.
He could also be The
Valeyard (namechecked by The Great Intelligence in that very episode) but it
doesn't feel right that Moffat would build his tenure towards a reappearance
from a character from an interesting but poorly realised serial from the '80s,
no matter how conceptually interesting it may be.
Hurt’s line, that he
“acted in the name of peace and sanity" suggests this is a Time War
Doctor, and the constant references to dark-sides and split personalities
(literally for impossible girl Clara) sets up the basis for an ultimate
confrontation worthy of a 50th special - the doctor against himself.
The Time War is also a
convenient setting, as it includes the crowd pleasing Daleks. But I don't think
that'll be where the 50th special is set. At least, I hope not. They've done a
great job of creating a vivid picture through the slightest of references -
great conversations between with The Master and Davros. Again, I don't think
Moffat will want to tell that story. But I am sure it will appear in flashback,
or perhaps with some unlikely crossing of the time lines.
And the constant
references to The Doctor's name. In short we will never know his 'name'. But
what if the name in question is not his, but John Hurt's version? All we know
of the purpose of the name is that it is the doctor's greatest secret, and that
it appears in the history of The Time War book, so it does make sense. Also, if
River returns for the 50th anniversary and witnesses the fall out from all
this, it would explain how she would know that name, and was able to shock
Tennant with it way back in Series 4.
My final ponderance is
how The Doctor managed to escape The Time War, whilst simultaneously ending it,
and trapping it in a time lock. I think the split personality made real is the
potential solution here. We know from his story of the Temporal Schism that
when faced with something huge he will always run (reiterated in Clara's
semi-catchphrase). I sense that the John Hurt doctor was somehow the one who
took the bullet, whilst our doctor ran away. Our doctor managed to keep his
sanity, and sense of right and wrong, but has been racked with guilt ever since,
where John Hurt, if he somehow survived, has done so either with a massive chip
on his shoulder, or a twisted, dangerously pragmatic version of
morality.
I expect the best way
to explain how this is possible would be somehow connected to the regeneration
of Doctor 8 into Doctor 9. Although we don't need a precedent for it,
Tennant’s shuffle of his regeneration in The Stolen Earth into his previously severed hand is an
example of a regeneration creating two Doctors. From behind, the John Hurt
doctor certainly resembled Christopher Eccleston. It would also account why
Hurt's face hasn't appeared the few times the Doctor in all his version have
been shown - the pre Time War doctor's life split two ways and our doctor is a
different person, albeit with a shared history before that point. Or maybe it
was a Time Lord scheme to create an army, creating multiple versions of
themselves in some bonkers response to the Dalek threat. We know they will go
to any possible lengths, including resurrecting The Master and destroying all
existence in order to evolve into a higher state on consciousness.
Of course, The Doctor
and Clara's encounter with John Hurt didn't happen in their 'current' time, it
was within the 'scar tissue' of the Doctors entire existence, i.e. they were
re-living a past event / timestream, though that doesn't explain why all the
other versions just ran past, whilst he addressed Hurt directly. But I
don't think John Hurt isn't suddenly walking around the Doctor's universe,
causing bother. It'll be something else that will bring them together.
But suddenly The Doctor
is back at the centre of everything. In series seven, especially the second
half, he has almost felt like a supporting character in his own show,
surrounded by under written secondary characters, flash bang effects and sets
and overbearing orchestral music. Matt Smith has held it together though, and
has been a rock, dragging the series through some middling moments. It says a
lot when the most moving moment is simply him sat on a sofa, naturally lit,
trying to hold back the tears. Moments like that strip away all the madness,
the frustration and tedium, and make you realise you love the doctor, and do
still care.
The multitude of ideas
that characterised Series 5 and 6 have been absent, replaced by big set pieces
and playful call backs to the original run. That ending has somehow rescued it
from the brink of being a piece of reliable and predictable television, and
back towards essential viewing.
Dean Freeman
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