Staying Alive (1983, Sylvester Stallone)

As Staying Alive celebrates its fortieth birthday, I’m sure there’s information on the web to answer some of my most burning questions. For instance, did they shoot John Travolta and Finola Hughes singing numbers for the in-movie Broadway show (Satan’s Alley), or was it always a rock ballet? And what about the Frank Stallone songs—did director, co-writer, co-producer, and very special guest star Sylvester Stallone always plan on using his brother’s bland early eighties soft rock, which saps the energy out of all their scenes, which are many—or at some point was better music on the table? The film’s got five Bee Gees songs (plus the title track; trivia note: Stayin’ Alive was abridged on the soundtrack album, not in the movie itself). Were the Brothers Gibb too busy, or did they just not want to continue the story of Saturday Night Fever lead John Travolta?

So many questions.

Staying Alive runs a somewhat long ninety-six minutes. Once the Broadway show rehearsals start, it’s too rushed, but until it gets there, it plods. It still plods during the rehearsals—Travolta has to listen to an entire song to understand he’s hurt love interest Cynthia Rhodes by eighties stalking Hughes—and then there’s an endless “romantic” dance sequence. But there’s theoretically potential during the rehearsals; they’re what Alive promised during the opening titles, a bargain basement All That Jazz. Except Stallone can’t direct the dancing scenes.

Or, more, he can direct them, but then he slows them down, which makes the dancing far less impressive. Unless the whole point is Travolta’s athletic exertion faces, which the film inadvertently showcases for most of the third act. The rehearsals ought to be a no-brainer—Travolta, Hughes, and Rhodes are preparing for a show while in a love triangle. There’s plenty of drama, but they also have to work together for the show to work. Maybe it’d work if show director Steve Inwood weren’t so wooden (despite wearing outfits too extreme for a “Thriller” knock-off video). The scenes where Inwood and Travolta “act” opposite one another are some of the film’s worst, which is saying something, because even though Inwood’s bad… he’s only got a half-dozen scenes where he talks. Hughes is just as bad but in the movie, so much more often.

She’s the rich girl rock ballet star who practices free love, something Travolta just can’t understand, though he definitely should be while he’s sleeping with lovestruck co-worker Rhodes; he’s also going home with various girls from his bar job. Travolta and Rhodes work at a dance studio by day, then he waiters at a club while she sings at another. He doesn’t like her working at the club because it’s skeezy, only once we see it… it’s fine? Like, if he knew about her lovestruck coworker at the club—Frank Stallone—he might have a reason to dislike it, but we see him see Frank for the first time. And he can’t be worried about it being dangerous. Despite it being 1983 and prime “dirty old New York,” the city’s incredibly safe. He’s going to let Rhodes walk at least forty blocks home at one point.

Alive also could be about two dancers—Travolta and Rhodes—and their troubled personal relationship but their success in their field of chosen professional pursuit. She’s a little older, which sort of makes her a stand-in for the Karen Lynn Gorney character from the first movie. Except it’s not because Stallone and co-writer Norman Wexler are astoundingly bad at the romance stuff. They’re slightly better with Travolta’s character development arc, which involves realizing he shouldn’t mistreat people (especially women), only for mom Julie Bovasso to tell him it’s okay, actually. It’s what makes him so awesome.

Bovasso is the only other actor to return from Fever. No one else gets mentioned except the dad character, who seems to have died between movies, and Travolta has left mom Bovasso alone in Brooklyn while pursuing his Broadway dreams.

Bovasso’s scenes all feel inserted later, raising even more production questions, especially about Travolta’s possible original character arc. Maybe he sings about it. The scenes’ tacked-on feeling goes so far as to forget the movie is taking place at Christmastime. Maybe. Definitely winter because Travolta never wears enough clothes (but neither does anyone else).

The eventual musical has to be seen to be believed, and if Stallone weren’t so bad at directing it, it would be a camp classic; it should be a camp classic.

Based on the opening titles, which feel like an All That Jazz rip-off (sorry, not calling it a homage, given it’s set to a Frank Stallone song), it seems like at least the editing’s going to be good throughout. Mark Warner, Don Zimmerman, and Peter E. Berger do okay with the editing, even after Stallone starts all the slow motion. The cinematography from Nick McLean is occasionally (and unintentionally) great. Stallone’s got some bad shots and a real lack of visual continuity, but McLean does a fine job with dirty old New York. He lights about a third of Travolta’s approximately 75,000 close-ups okay. The other two-thirds, he’s bored too.

Johnny Mandel does the “score,” which doesn’t even get mentioned in the opening titles, and produces at least one of the Frank Stallone songs. Is it one of the better ones? I don’t know; I was too busy dancing to Stayin’ Alive to pay attention during the end credits.

Acting-wise, Bovasso wins on the technicality she’s in three and a half scenes. Rhodes is likable, even if she weren’t so tragically sympathetic as she lets herself get played, over and over, by Travolta.

Travolta’s reasonably bad. He seems better during the Broadway rehearsal portion of the plot; shame it’s rushed.

Hughes is terrible. Also, Stallone’s really bad at shooting her dance, so when Travolta’s ostensibly impressed with her craft (in addition to her looks), it doesn’t seem legit. Though at least Hughes gets to dance. The movie forgets Rhodes wants something more than the chorus line too.

If it weren’t terrible, Staying Alive could be good. Given the setting’s inherent drama and potential visuals, it ought to be good. Shame Stallone turned it into a weird vanity project for his brother, and an even weirder “toxic masculinity is good, actually” commentary. Because the questions the film raises about Travolta being a Brooklyn disco king grown over are good ones, it’s just Stallone, Wexler, and Alive have bullshit answers to all of them.

Still, it’s ninety-six minutes of early eighties Hollywood ego train wreck; after all, sometimes you need to strut.

This post is part of the Fifth So Bad It’s Good Blogathon hosted by Rebecca of Taking Up Room.

The Capture (1950, John Sturges)

Given its problems, The Capture’s better than it should be. It’s also never quite as good as it could be—director Sturges starts doing a fantastic chase scene in the third act, but then it quickly peters out, which is too bad because the third act needs something. But the film manages to overcome its weird story—Lew Ayres trying to seduce the widow of a man he killed. Teresa Wright plays the widow. She has an exceptionally thankless part; Ayres’s seduction technique is to berate her into loving him while deceiving her about his identity, of course.

The film’s got a noirish structure, with Ayres starting the film as a fugitive in Mexico. He finds his way to priest Victor Jory and ostensibly reluctantly tells Jory his story.

Ayres was a white-collar at an oil field. After the payroll train gets robbed, his fiancée, Jacqueline White, toxic masculinities Ayres into going out to find the robber himself. He finds the culprit, Edwin Rand, and shoots him when Rand’s got his hands up. Well, one of them; Rand’s injured and can’t raise one of them. So Ayres sees the one and shoots.

Later on, Rand dies. There are complicating factors, but basically, Ayres gets mopey about it; White dumps him for not being happy about directly causing someone’s death; he runs off to a new town. The only hitch: he’s got to ride with Rand’s body back home.

This peculiar arrangement will have absolutely no effect on Ayres except, upon seeing Wright at the station (not knowing her relationship with the deceased, just knowing she has one), he immediately falls for her and starts low-key stalking her until he can insert himself in her life.

We don’t get to see the stalking, thank goodness; it’s just part of Ayres’s narration.

Luckily, just when he’s waited long enough to approach her, she’s also in need of a ranch foreman.

For the second act, The Capture slows down for Ayres to become part of Wright’s life, specifically her son Jimmy Hunt’s. She’s mean to Ayres because she knows his true identity—he lied when he showed up—and she’s known since his first day. So she keeps him around to be mean to him because some kinds of ladies are just mean that way, or so Ayres will tell her.

The Capture’s got a show and tell problem. Ayres is telling the whole thing—without his narration and with a few edits, the film could be recut to make him a creeper—then he’s telling everyone he meets something or other about themselves. Ayres has got it all figured out, which will make the finale even more frustrating because apparently he’s supposed to be experiencing character development, only Ayres isn’t acting it.

To be fair, Niven Busch’s screenplay (based on his novel) isn’t doing the character development either. Why would Ayres have to learn anything? He’s right, isn’t he? Anything bad always just happens to never be Ayres’s fault.

And despite Ayres’s character being a serial mansplainer, Wright having a lousy character and lousier arc, neither of them are bad. Sturges’s direction is solid, and the film’s got a decent pace, even if the narration slows it down. And its mix of Western and film noir is quirky and reasonably engaging.

The third act, which turns Ayres into a very bad detective (dressed just like Indiana Jones), hurts things, but not as much as Ayres’s lack of character development.

Decent supporting performances from Jory and Barry Kelley. Kid Hunt is just okay but never particularly annoying; much better than dad Rand, who’s a drag.

Good photography from Edward Cronjager, especially the actual night shots, not the day-for-night. Daniele Amfitheatrof’s music is a little much, except during that almost excellent chase scene.

Even with its humdrum but still irritating problems, The Capture’s almost fine. Ayres and Wright are professional enough to get through it, and Sturges keeps it afloat.

Doctor Who (2005) s13e04 – Village of the Angels

Most of this episode—save a brief appearance from rubber masked villain Rochenda Sandall—is quite good. Not just the best episode of the season so far (though it’s handily the best episode of the season so far), but an actual good episode.

Doctor Jodie Whittaker is solo in late sixties small village England, trying to stop the Weeping Angels from getting lost-in-time Annabel Scholey for their nefarious reasons. Sure, there’s some tedious stuff explaining why the Angels want Scholey and how it ties into Whittaker’s lost history arc, plus the rules for the Angels are a bit loose here. I mean, they have the same rules as always, but the episode seemingly forgets them from time to time to move the plot along.

But it’s a compelling episode. Whittaker and Scholey are a lot better together than Whittaker has been with her regular companions this season. Whittaker’s relationship with Mandip Gill is on its way for another hard talk because Whittaker’s still lying to her, and then John Bishop is just around. Though when Gill and Bishop team up to help the villagers search for missing ten-year-old Poppy Polivnick, it pretty much just works. Like Gill and Bishop have fine chemistry opposite one another. You wouldn’t be able to tell when they’re hanging off Whittaker.

Whittaker met Scholey in the first episode of the season when Scholey knew Whittaker (and Gill), but they didn’t know her, which ought to make everyone chill out a little because the only explanation for that disconnect is they’re going to survive this adventure for Scholey to again see Whittaker in the future. I think. It’s timey-wimey, who knows. Plus, the “Flux,” which destroyed most of the universe or whatever, didn’t affect Earth’s history. At least not since they did something, but then the rubber mask villains did something and then….

Doesn’t matter. Unraveling it distracts from the strong episode, which has Whittaker and Scholey fortifying in amusing old professor Kevin McNally’s house to survive the Angels.

Then Gill and Bishop are trying to find Polivnick, which leads to some big twists and turns and generally engaging television.

And Thaddea Graham’s a lot better this episode than last time. She’s traveling the Flux-ed universe in search of Jacob Anderson. That storyline is the easy least of the episode, but it’s not terrible. I mean, it’s a definite improvement (until the end) over before.

The writing’s better—this time Chris Chibnall has Maxine Alderton helping him in addition to the plot not being a series of tropes and pop culture steals—and it’s easily Jamie Magnus Stone’s best direction of the season.

The end’s wonky, but it’s a much better-than-lately forty-five minutes getting there.

Rocky IV (1985, Sylvester Stallone), the director’s cut

Sylvester Stallone’s director’s cut of Rocky IV arrives four sequels and thirty-five years after the film’s original release. Stallone says it’s for the thirty-fifth anniversary; Robert Doornick (who voiced Burt Young’s robot in the original cut and owns the copyright on the robot) says it’s because Stallone didn’t want to renew with him and had to cut out all the robot scenes.

So, if “Rocky vs. Drago” replaces the original cut in streaming services… we’ll find out.

There are some other changes to the movie besides the goofy robot being gone, like a trimmed-down version of Rocky III tacked onto the beginning. It’s weird because it goes on way too long and isn’t a good encapsulation of the film–it also emphasizes Stallone’s relationship with Carl Weathers to enlarge their relationship in the Rocky IV footage. Only there’s no actual echoing between the two. Because Stallone doesn’t change Rocky IV’s story or its beats, he just excises a few of them. He doesn’t do anything to fix the problems, which are obviously insurmountable because it’s fairly terrible.

Stallone’s writing, direction, John W. Wheeler, and Don Zimmerman’s editing are all quite bad. There’s no new editor credited with the Rocky vs. Drago cuts, but whoever did Final Cut Proing or Adobe Premiering doesn’t have much in the way of timing. Though, since this version comes after Creed II, which is a sequel to this film, bringing back Dolph Lundgren decades later, you could almost read something into how Lundgren’s cut to see if it implies character development. Only it doesn’t. And Rocky vs. Drago isn’t like cut to tie into Creed II. Stallone’s just cobbling something together here—does anyone believe he didn’t have the full director’s cut of the original in 1985, with that craptacular “We Can All Change” speech to the Soviet people, who embrace Rocky over Gorby? So why not tie into Rocky V. Nothing would be better than seeing all the stupid patriotism end with Stallone brain-damaged. It’d explain his final speech.

The movie also misses out on soundtrack revising, which… I mean, why not. Something to juice it up.

Also, that last fight is poorly done, especially after seeing Stallone learn how to direct action in the intervening decades since he shot this film. It’s not exactly any more embarrassing than the original Rocky IV, but it’s definitely pointless.

Especially since it’s all about Stallone, Weathers, and Lundgren all basically just being toxically masculine narcissists. It might be a little different for Stallone and Lundgren—because Weather’s hubris literally gets him killed, which doesn’t not have a racial component to it. Like, Weather is openly Black here. Bad dad. Stallone’s a bad dad too. Stallone made movies about these guys being bad dads. It’s such a weak revisit.

Maybe I’m just embarrassed I thought it might be any different, like Stallone might’ve actually tried. Because even with the miserable mise-en-scène of Rocky IV, there are obvious places you could just cut it better if you had access to the footage.

Finally, because I can’t any more with the rest of it, does Talia Shire come off as miserable in the original version? Like she’s raising a son and then tending a douchebag husband? Not to mention Young.

Oh, okay, this bit is the last—Young. Stallone stops playing him for laughs but keeps the pratfalls, which just makes him seem like a despondent drunk the whole time.

So fingers crossed Doornick’s for real, and they pull the original, robotic Rocky IV and only Rocky vs. Drago remains. It’s a futile gesture of egomania from Stallone, which, coincidentally, describes the film in either cut.

Rocky IV’s awful.

Doctor Who (2005) s13e02 – War of the Sontarans

So, one thing I don’t understand about “Doctor Who: Flux” is writer Chris Chibnall’s Marvel Cinematic Universe nods. Last episode, they established the only good special effects were going to be the Thanos disintegration effect (presumably the VFX staff bought an iPhone app for ninety-nine cents to get it done), but this episode…. Well, this episode goes overboard right from the start.

The first scene has Doctor Jodie Whittaker and companions Mandip Gill and John Bishop waking up at the end of the universe. It looks just like the end of the universe in “Loki.” Of course, it turns out not to be the end of the universe, and instead, they’ve been thrown in time back to the Crimean War, but it looks just like “Loki.”

And then the episode ends with a snap. After a bunch of Thanos disintegrating. And the snap is a Snap.

I can’t tell if Chibnall is doing terrible, desperate homage or if he really thinks… there’s no crossover between “Doctor Who” viewers and, you know, people who have seen the second and fifth highest-grossing movies of all time. Because even if they didn’t watch “Loki,” those lucky bastards, they might recognize the Snap.

Anyway.

The Crimean stuff is excellent. Best “Who” in ages, with Whittaker teaming up with historical figure Mary Seacole (played by Sara Powell; also Seacole was a subject on “Horrible Histories” if anyone needs to Google a refresher) as she discovers the Sontarans have done a temporal assault and are the bad guys in the Crimean War now, not the Russians. Were the Russians the bad guys in the Crimean War? I mean, they were from the British perspective, but… you know what, never mind.

Whittaker and Powell have to deal with an asshat British general (Gerald Kyd) in addition to the Sontarans. Now, these Sontarans aren’t from the past, they’re from the present (or future) and know the Doctor is their enemy, but they don’t realize the Doctor might be a girl now. Whittaker’s a lot better without her companions to clutter the scenes, and both Powell and Kyd are excellent.

Meanwhile, new companion Bishop goes back to the future, where he amusingly teams up with his parents (Sue Jenkins and Paul Broughton) to fight the Sontarans there. Lots of lousy CGI but Bishop’s slightly more amusing with the ‘rents than with Whittaker and Gill, or on his own. It’s actually a rather tense plotline, which has Bishop having to coordinate with Whittaker in the past.

Gill’s off at a magical time temple where she meets agents from the Time Bureau before—just kidding, she meets future human dude Jacob Anderson, and they have to try to repair the cheap holograms for the flying, talking triangles. The talking triangles don’t cast shadows, which is initially one of the big effects fails. There are more extensive effects fails later on, but the lack of shadows is the first hint at the eventual problems.

The time temple is also where time-traveling super-villain and Red Skull wannabe in a cheap Halloween mask Sam Spruell figures in. He and sidekick Rochenda Sandall do a lot of super-villain posturing, and it seems like the whole thing has to be a gag because it’s crappy camp.

But the Crimean War period stuff is solid, although it feels like Whittaker doing a leftover Peter Capaldi script. Whatever works, though. Whatever works.

Doctor Who (2005) s13e01 – The Halloween Apocalypse

Jodie Whittaker’s lame-duck season gets off to an inglorious start. It’d be inglorious no matter what—it’s Whittaker’s last season—but there’s an added dig with the next series being outside the BBC’s control or something. Sadly, instead of going out with a bang, writer Chris Chibnall, whoever hired the effects companies, and director Jamie Magnus Stone have decided it will be a struggle to even get it to a whimper.

After an awful “action-packed” opening with Whittaker and companion Mandip Gill escaping an actually very easy to win no-win scenario, the episode starts going through some of the old tropes. Whittaker lying to Gill? Check. Whittaker not remembering something because there have been seventy-bazillion Doctors, and she only remembers a handful of them? Check. End of the universe? Check. Familiar aliens? Check. Familiar aliens desperately used for effect? Check. There’s even a future companion (Annabel Scholey) running into Whittaker before they meet. It really doesn’t help Scholey looks like former companion Jenna Coleman and has a very similar name. I was wondering if they’d just recast the part.

And some of these tropes aren’t even new to Whittaker’s “Who.” I’m pretty sure last season was Gill being mad at Whittaker for lying to her most of the time too. There’s a quick mention of the departed Bradley Walsh and Tosin Cole, who apparently took all the heart with them when they left, but most of the companion stuff is setting up new guy John Bishop. He’s a Liverpool jingoist with a heart of gold, alternating between giving free tours in the Liverpool museum and working at a soup kitchen (even though he doesn’t have any food on his own shelves). He figures in coincidentally, with the bad guy who was after Whittaker at the open—Craige Els, whose alien costume reveal is one of the episode’s few smiles–kidnapping him from planet Earth.

Only Els’s motives turn out to make most of the twists involving the character, including the opening attempt to execute Whittaker, nonsensical. To be fair, I didn’t realize the giant plot hole was a massive plot hole until after the episode was over because I was too busy concentrating on the apparent season nemesis, played by Sam Spruell. I don’t think he gets a name in this episode because Whittaker doesn’t remember him, but he’s the Red Skull with Thanos’s zapping powers. They didn’t spend any money on the costumes—some of the masks are dollar store cheap or the big effects sequences requiring composite shots. Still, they did get an okay app to do the Thanos disintegration effect, which Spruell uses on various people throughout the episode.

Spruell’s got a nice and silly backstory—he’s been imprisoned from the start of time at the end of the universe (odd the Doctor didn’t run into him at the end of the universe a few seasons ago)—and it reminds of Star Trek V, which is the second time “Who”’s leaned on that Trek. Of course, they already did an imprisoned Satan years ago, just as ostensibly oblivious to the source material.

But this episode also ups the ante with a Star Trek: Generations “nod.” There’s a destructive force moving through the universe, destroying everything in its path. The only one who can stop it is a boy named Bastian Bux—wait, wait, whoops, NeverEnding Story. It’s not the Nothing, it’s not the Nexus, it’s the Flux, which is also this season’s subtitle.

Flux, not Not the Nothing, Not the Nexus, It’s the Flux, which is too bad because it’s a better title. “Who”’s something of a hopeless property, but it’s off to an even worse start than usual. Especially since the episode very intentionally doesn’t give Whittaker or Gill anything to do.

Doctor Who (2005) s04e01 – Partners in Crime

Despite the previous season taking place over four or five days (as they play out in the show’s present), this episode doesn’t rush Doctor David Tennant reuniting with perfect companion (and pre-last season companion Freema Agyeman) Catherine Tate. Tate was the previous year’s Christmas special; a fill-in between Billie Piper and Agyeman.

But now it’s all about Tate. Since we’ve last seen her, she’s started investigating the paranormal and strange in hopes of happening across Tennant again. Not agreeing to be his companion on his immediate rebound from Piper was the biggest mistake she’d ever made.

The show takes its time bringing Tennant and Tate back together, with director James Strong and writer Russell T. Davies doing a great job dragging it out. Tate’s current investigation—which Tennant happens across—is a miracle diet pill. There’s a nice montage of them each investigating before they happen across the same lead at the same time and quickly get found out. It’s a great scene.

Possibly villain Sarah Lancashire’s best scene. She ought to be a better villain but there’s something shallow about her character. The alien plot involves repopulating a global population from human fat. Lots of adorable fat aliens. Not the best CGI, but cute CGI. The show leans it on it hard.

We also get to meet Tate’s supporting cast—I can’t remember if mom Jacqueline King was in the previous Christmas special, which involved Tate’s wedding—so mom King and granddad Bernard Cribbins. Cribbins is all heart, King is another annoying companion’s mom, though a little different than what we’ve seen before.

Maybe because we don’t see King and the Doctor together… it’s just King being crappy to Tate.

The show doesn’t really pretend there’s much question about whether or not Tate’s ending up on the TARDIS, but there’s some lip service to Tennant having previous romantic disinterest issues with Agyeman, which is weird. We never got the same clarification on Piper? Does the show ever do a good companion-transition?

Speaking of companions, though there’s a big companion-related surprise at the end of the episode. Presumably it’s going to be important later in the season.

Doctor Who (2005) s04e00 – Voyage of the Damned

Voyage of the Damned opens with a repeat of the previous season’s cliffhanger, the Doctor (David Tennant) on his space and time vessel, the TARDIS, and it crashing into something and a Titanic life preserver landing on him. Some of it’s reused footage, but I think once we get the third, “What,” exclamation, we’re into the Christmas special proper.

Turns out it’s not the boat Titanic but an intergalactic space liner in town to visit the Earth. The Titanic naming is just a coincidence, it’s not from a planet with much understanding of Earth, just some vague, comically entertaining details. Because even though Damned is about the possible devastation of the entire planet, it’s still the Christmas special. Lots of easy laughs and easier smiles, especially once the special embraces its Poseidon Adventure remake status, which is unexpected. Tennant leads a ragtag bunch of survivors through the bowels of the ship to save the day, with very special guest star Kylie Minogue playing the companion interest.

She and Tennant are really likable together, so it’s kind of a bummer when once the special gets around to clarifying she’s not going to be the new companion but wouldn’t it be swell if she were. Given Tennant seems entirely all right post-companion breakout with Freema Agyeman in the last season.

There’s a lot of action and a lot of effects. The action’s usually better than the effects.

The supporting cast is fun or better—Tennant’s gang of survivors are rich guy Gray O'Brien, tour guide Clive Swift, alien Jimmy Vee, and then working class marrieds Debbie Chazen and Clive Rowe. They’re all at least likable at one point or another, but often usually better. Often because of Minogue acting off them. Even though her character seems a tad shoehorned in, Minogue is a lot of Voyage’s glue, at least as far as the sympathy goes.

Russell Tovey is okay as the one sailor who realizes the captain, a decently stunt cast but thinly written Geoffrey Palmer, is up to some shenanigans.

It’s got its bumps, but Voyage is a perfectly solid outing. Though the show could at least pretend it misses Agyeman.

Doctor Who (2005) s03e05 – Evolution of the Daleks

Last episode I went in pretty hard on the British actors playing Americans but I think I may have emphasized accents too much. Hugh Quarshie’s accent isn’t bad. His performance is bad, his accent is fine. Whereas Andrew Garfield’s accent is bad and his performance is bad.

Though even Garfield seems like a strong supporting player when taking main guest star Eric Loren into account. Loren’s the Dalek-human hybrid. He’s got a head with a single eye and tentacles—short, thick, dreadlock tentacles. He’s pink. He looks like a “Simpsons” or “Futurama” alien. It never looks real, because exposed brain tissue would be a lot real, but it also looks lifeless even if it’s absurd. It’s distractingly bad.

Like, afternoon local access kids’ show bad.

But even as bad as the mask and makeup and whatever… Loren’s performance is eye-widening terrible. Uncomfortably terrible.

You feel bad for the other actors terrible. And the rest of the actors—even Garfield, much less Quarshie—are sympathetic because they’re trapped in this terrible episode.

The episode seems like some kids’ variety show, partially because of the production design, mostly because of James Strong’s direction. Strong doesn’t do good work here. He does better directing than Helen Raynor does writing, but it’s still rather wanting.

The exciting conclusion to the Daleks trying to take over the planet from 1930 New York and somehow continuing the Dalek race. David Tennant very quickly goes from being anti-Dalek to pro-Loren hybrid Dalek, which is terrible for a couple reasons. First, it means more Loren, second it means Tennant’s just part of some other character’s plot line. Will the regular Daleks behave when their leader is getting all human-y?

Freema Agyeman gets to play gal pal to lovesick Miranda Raison, which is a big waste. Also a big waste of Raison, who gets downgraded from her Doctor’s love interest spot from last episode.

I knew this episode would be a slog and, no surprise, a slog.

Doctor Who (2005) s03e04 – Daleks in Manhattan

So… Nicholas Briggs does do the Dalek voices in this episode. He’s been doing all of them, which is weird because the Dalek voices this episode are terrible and so… I figured it was other actors.

But no.

It’s Briggs.

And he’s terrible.

I was waiting for the Daleks to show up—they’re trying to take over 1930 Manhattan, using the Empire State Building’s construction to do something. It’s not particularly interesting, mostly because even with the potentially interesting setting, the episode plays more like a college stage production, where British actors get to try out their American accents while acting in front of green screens.

Including future Spider-Man Andrew Garfield, who plays a Tennessee(!) youth who encounters the Doctor (David Tennant) and Martha (Freema Agyeman) as they hang out in Hooverville to solve disappearances among the Depression-ravaged residents. Hugh Quarshie plays Black king of melting pot Hooverville, which seems a little… I mean, it seems like it needs to come with citations if they’re going to do it. Because otherwise it seems like it’s painting in some inclusivity where there wasn’t any.

But then there’s not many bars Helen Raynor’s script clears. It’s a fairly bad script. Like, jarring, getting worse as it goes along. The Dalek dialogue seems like it’s just not written with the right ear (in addition to whatever’s going on with Briggs).

The episode introduces another female interest for Tennant—showgirl Miranda Raison, who sounds as New Yawk as Burnham Thorpe, Norfolk gets. So after having all this momentum with Agyeman and Tennant as a team, the episode keeps them together but gives Agyeman a lot less to do.

It’s disappointing. Though the episode looks like it was shot on a camcorder—maybe because there are so many period sets? Like, bigger the production, worse the video “stock”? So it always looks disappointing. Then it just disappoints overall.

The show’s quickly run out of goodwill with the Dalek episodes. They’ve gone from being a gem of a trope to a trope’s trope.