LIVE: Doctor Who Symphonic Spectacular

Review and Photos by Tom Newsom

The official concert based on one of the UK’s biggest TV shows has finally come to, er, the UK. After a couple of tours of Australasia, it’s now moved further afield - starting in London and then travelling to Cardiff, Birmingham, Leeds, Newcastle and Glasgow, cleverly timed for the May Bank Holiday and half term. And it’s a sell-out hit.

I was lucky enough to attend the show at Wembley on Sunday the 24th - which of course was packed with people. I’d watched the various proms from the past ten years before on the telly, but this was my first time hearing an orchestra play them live - in this case, the same BBC National Orchestra and Chorus of Wales that they use on the show (‘the house band’ as host Peter Davison calls them).

Did it go down a storm? Of course it did. A live playing gives the music so much extra energy and emotion, even in a massive arena. And I realised just how much emotion was contained in the music all over again: once it’s stripped from the words if not the visuals, the themes of the episodes and characters are majestic. It’s almost like seeing what’s in the writers’ heads before act structures and appreciation indexes, that raw Doctor Who feeling in all of us.

The set-list seemed very well chosen and skewed quite heavily towards the newest series - performed in these shows for the first time live, and released on CD a week earlier. I hadn’t heard the CD before the show, which meant that I was listening to a lot of the music for the first time away from the episodes. But what a series to go out on - lots of visual episodes, and music from nearly all of them were played. Plus this is the first concert since Peter Capaldi joined - and incredibly, he happened to be in the audience, watching himself and listening to the orchestra play his theme!

When you compare the new music to some of the older, more simpler themes (although the set-list doesn’t stretch back too many years), it’s like Murray Gold is writing the music now with this big, BIG broad sound in mind from the start. Because it’s the big orchestral numbers that are the stars here, especially the opening, which immediately gets the pulse racing.

If anything, it’s designed to be fun - lively talk between the pieces from the excellent host, nothing in the show that’s especially off-putting for children or first-timers (although monsters like the Foretold walking around can give you a fright!), and a whole lot of variety encapsulating light and dark, older and newer, traditional and a bit funky. And there’s slightly smaller but no less powerful pieces like those sung by soloist Elin Manahan Thomas. (Who knew that Missy’s theme had such beautiful words?)

And because of all this, it means it feels like it’s over far, far too quickly!

The Symphonic Spectacular, then, is aptly named. If you’re visiting in future, expect a big, incredible hit of Doctor Who music that will make you feel like a child again. It’s a pretty awesome event.

TV: Banana viii

And so we come to the end of Cucumber's little sister show. Banana has come in eight weird and wonderfully diverse packages, topped off with a callback to both the third episode of the series, and the last two of Cucumber. But you needn't have see any of those three marvellous pieces of television to enjoy this spellbinding climax. 

Vanessa is a contract industrial cleaner, who employs Jonjo to source labour. Many of his subjects are of course immigrants, but these are young girls from Africa. When one reaches out to Vanessa, telling her what he's done, and asking for help, there's a caustic reaction to say the least. From Vanessa's good nature in Sue Perkins' excellent episode earlier this series, viewers can be fairly confident that she'll make things right in the end somehow. 

Over the course of fifteen minutes or so, dedicated entirely to strong actresses Lynn Hunter and Nikki Fagbemi, the pair learn to communicate in a method transcending language. Vanessa is furious that Zara has told her about it. She's known about it for years, but now the hard decision comes as she's forced into action by the rules of television. There's a lovely little number at the end too. And there's a sting in the tale that'll leave you with a massive grin across your face.

It must be said that this episode really doesn't fit the format established by the preceding seven, including two by Davies himself. In a way, it resembles the others in that it forces the protagonist/s to take a stand and do what they feel is right. But there's no love story here. In our last ever visit to the Calico Flats, they're transformed and there's hope on the horizon for Vanessa's workers, with the possibility of moving in.

Banana's been an odd little series, often only loosely linked to the main show, but I've loved it. It's delivered exceptional drama, admittedly not quite on the scale of Cucumber, but great nonetheless. It's pushed the boundaries of modern TV, and has been unashamedly frank in its storytelling. The best four episodes for me were the first three (chronicling Dean, Scotty and Sian) and the sixth (written by and starring Charlie Covell) but there's been moments in all of them that I've liked.

I'm very grateful to everyone who worked on this interesting little series for brightening the TV landscape. While change will inevitably slow, hopefully this series, along with its sister programme, have started something of a revolution. That said, Queer  as Folk made barely any lasting impact, as well as that was received. We can live in hope. If this was all it was meant to be, that's still great. 

TV: Banana vii

This is something of an oddity, even amongst Banana episodes. Unrequited love is a topic that hasn't really been covered - it could be argued it was briefly with Josh and Sophie in episode five, but it was hardly the focus. Here, Frank ends up in a threesome with the more conventionally handsome Ben and Aidan, and pursues the latter the following morning, looking for something more.

The pair flirt with the idea for a morning - we even get to flash forward nine months - but ultimately hunky Aidan ends it. They were clearly never meant to be though, with Frank more invested from the start. At first, you think it will work out, Aidan will drop his prejudices, and they'll live happily ever after, thanks to the general shape of the series so far. But unfortunately, it isn't to be.

Instead this ends up as both a cynical and an optimistic commentary on modern society. Cynical because of its sleight against modern values, and not appreciating the opportunities we're given. Rushing into things without full consideration. Aidan just can't go out with someone that he doesn't find physically attractive, and that's fine. Some people are just like that. But so much prominence is devoted to that topic that I can't help but feel it was an intentional stab by the writer. And to address my second proposition, I find this optimistic because it tells us that any day - every day - could be day one. You might find the person you're supposed to be with any day, and that's a magical notion. 

Luke Snellin's episodes seem to have been those that are slightly off-kilter for me. That's not to say they're bad, but they're certainly the exceptions of the series - if a series as varied as this can have a norm to deviate from. The final episode of the series looks to be a whopper, and I for one can't wait. This has been a very interesting series, one that's dared to push the boundaries in all the right ways, and I'm so grateful we got it. The quality of storytelling we're getting here is pretty much unparalleled in today's television landscape. Trust Davies to be the one to broaden our minds - again. 

Excellently made, but lacking a certain something.

TV: Cucumber/Banana/Tofu iii

reviews by Tom Newsom (Twitter | Flickr | Blog)

You’d be forgiven for thinking Henry, the main character in Cucumber, had been sidelined in this week’s third episode. But the writing is clever enough to keep with the same themes that encompass the series - a yearning for lost youth, particularly - and run with them whilst focusing on other characters. In this case, the ultra handsome Freddie. For those watching both, it doesn’t feel like a Banana storyline; it’s messier than that.

But more on that later, first: Henry and Lance. After last week’s post-breakup breakup, there’s some fun scenes of revenge, but also some subtle warmth between them in moments of peace. To last out a relationship like that for nine years, there must be common ground, even when the characters seem distinct and their plotlines vary - Henry moping, Lance playing with fire. The episode is dedicated to the younger folk - Henry’s nephew gets an interesting role in this; he’s a very modern character, painted in broad strokes here. But this feeds into Henry’s reawakening, as he begins to address some of his problems. (Of course, addressing them through the medium of Crossroads and Katy Perry, though that makes it more poignant)

Freddie’s plot then - it’s a good one. Layered, shades of grey, for the most part more tragedy than comedy. When he encounters his old friend - friends - we’re immediately wary, but the story is handled in such a way that it doesn’t quite end up how you thought it would. It walks a fine line between viewpoints, delving right into Freddie’s character in how he handles the situation, even sometimes being quite provocative, but it never feels (intentionally) issue-led. Perhaps that’s because it’s grounded in what the characters feel, even if they are wrong, rather than what the traditional narrative might be. Cucumber is rarely traditional, happily, or it wouldn’t be as much fun to watch.

And also, in this third episode, there’s the first proper sex scene we’ve had - you can’t miss it. In the first two episodes, and before in this one, it’s been off-camera, behind closed doors (and wobbly walls), and mainly used as a joke, often a dark one. Here its right at the heart of the drama, played as a power struggle, though it’s still taken seriously. Bold for the timeslot possibly, but it’s the sort of scene that you could only have in a drama like this. The comedy here is as top as it has been, but this week the ambiguities live on in your mind too. Hats off to the writing, directing and acting in particular.

Sue Perkins was one of the most prominently-publicised writers when Banana was announced, and perhaps the prospect of an episode from her - a one-off, potentially her view of gay life - was building this up too much.

But happily, as a short slice of drama, it delivers. It’s a love story: two girls get together, move in, stuff happens. The scenes are brisk, the details slight, but it feels real.

One of its biggest achievements, notable by their absence, is the complete lack of clichés - in the relationship, in the drama, even in the plot in these things. Before the episode aired I saw an interview with her for the series, and she ponders that what she might take for granted as a stereotypical behaviour for lesbians might not be the case, and vice versa. Perhaps she needn’t have worried about trying to portray the ‘everywomen’ - flawed-character-heavyCucumber has been chided by some viewers for not being that, but that’s drama. The relationship is stripped back to just two individual and distinctive young women, whose problems have nothing to do with them being gay, but thankfully the writer has included just enough detail to make the story her own - a cheeky game in the supermarket stands out, as do the lively, clever opening scenes.

And then there’s the story between Sian, one of the two girls, and her mother, who’s also gay. Their relationship and her upbringing feels very new and fresh and very well handled. Actually it’s probably a stronger, more human storyline than the lesbian romance. But even that is treated with more depth and feeling than you’d normally expect. It’s really good.

And to Tofu - which proves this week it’s not going to be a one-trick pony as it’s not about sex. No, really - it’s about people who choose not to have sex, in a documentary that’s otherwise about people doing it. 

There’s a smaller range of interviewees on this subject, so we get a much better picture of them - some surprisingly young, some older, all well chosen and eloquent and characterful (and all female, which perhaps raises another question about the issue, along with the few raised in this episode). 

The ‘sketch’ in the middle is lovely and quite mad, in a different way this week.

many thanks - and a very happy birthday - to

Tom Newsom (Twitter | Flickr | Blog)

TV: Cucumber/Banana/Tofu ii

reviews by Tom Newsom (Twitter | Flickr | Blog)

Watching all three of these new shows together, you don’t need to be reminded which one is which. Cucumber is something special - there’s a brilliant, very human breakup story running through the series, including this episode. It’s definitely not written 15 years ago -a texted pleading to meet again is gloriously cut together between two people looking at screens, one with loud music blaring, one without. Later, both characters are texting whilst trying to have an argument, adding layers to the relationship - really just making things crueller.

The secret is the characters on show are behaving exactly as we feel they should. Henry is full to the brim with likeable faults (in this he gets fired unfairly, but doesn’t make it easy for himself), and also full of old-school desire for things he’s never going to have. To identify with this main character you don’t have to be gay or over 40 - although it might help. It’s about ever wanting to speak your mind or aiming for somebody who’s out of your league, I’m sure there can’t be many who haven’t been Henry before.

Both he and Lance (and Cliff) are distinct and slightly contradictory and very alive. Meanwhile Daniel the diver is still a tosser (but a very well played tosser). He remains an interesting character because we can’t fully figure out his motivations. And Freddie (Fox) makes a big impression here, getting not one but two ‘spellbinding’ scenes.

The whole thing zips along with humour, plot and funky everything, working effortlessly towards the scene for a possible conclusion before yanking it away again. All this and Russell T Davies hits gold again in the opening sequence - the first episode had suggestive vegetables, the second episode has the incredible ‘Henry Test’. Cucumber deserves to be influential with quality ideas like this.

Not that Banana isn’t too shabby. This week’s is very, very well written - I didn’t realise it was, again, written by Russell until the end - it’s a pure standalone story. I thought I knew where it was going (lesbian main character, after the gay man story last week), and barely 30 seconds into it there’s a twist, and the episode becomes something far better.

There’s some great casting too - Rosie Cavaliero is notable after last year’s Prey, for which she got one or two odd, undeserved insults from critics. About halfway through there’s a moment where somebody is described as being kind whilst in a supermarket queue - that’s a lovely image, and of course it would be one of the moments that we’d be at our best.

Meanwhile in the online land of Tofu, the documentary series gets even more adult, and frank, than last week’s opener. At least not at the start - but after, fittingly, talking about how we don’t always talk about sex, we’re treated to people talking about just that. But always in a funny, well presented way.

many thanks to

Tom Newsom (Twitter | Flickr | Blog)