Sunday, 24 November 2013

A History Of The Hill And Doctor Who

Yesterday marked the 50th year since Doctor Who first appeared on our screens.  Which is kind of a big deal in that it's such an intrinsic part of British pop culture.  Even when it wasn't on, it was still part of our lives.  I was always scared of Daleks growing up and I can remember the astounded silence in a classroom in The First Year of uni when the German amongst us asked 'What's a Dalek?' as if it were possible that someone could not know.


But while I consider Doctor Who a simple part of being British, I’ve never really watched the show with zeal.

The Relationship has been something like this:

Sylvester McCoy was *my* Doctor (as people say) and I still feel an overwhelming gladness whenever I catch glimpses of old seveny.  It was his slyness that I liked, the way he was like your uncle who you knew would keep you safe, but there was this sharp, dark side to him that was thrilling.  ‘Sharp as a razor and just as dangerous’ as I said to someone recently because I say things like that.


But I didn’t like the repeats that were on after school, after Stingray (Stingraaaaay, STINGRAY, budernerderner!) because they just seemed to always be about soldiers and aliens shooting at each other and nothing bored me like soldiers (I believe these were Third Doctor episodes).


I watched the TV movie with The Mother when it was brand new, and was TRAUMATISED FOR LIFE because they killed the Doctor.


So I pretty much went off any concept of the show at all from then on.  But I went to school and college with a massive Doctor Who nerd (The Stantz) and he lent me some Doctor 7 episodes, which cheered me up.


Then I went to uni and watched The Last Detective and got a massive crush on Peter Davison, so The Stantz lent me some Doctor 5 episodes, which never really did it for me, although the Daleks were still cool.  I’m not sure Peter Davison really got *it* until he was Campion.  Mmmmmm, Campion.


Then 2005 rolled around and The Mother, who can remember seeing the very first episode of Doctor Who when it was new, was excited about the return of Doctor Who and I was not.  I would deliberately ignore it whenever she was watching it.


One day I decided to give it a go, and it was The Long Game, so that killed any more interest.


But by this time I was friends with The Housemate, the second massive Doctor Who nerd in The Life, and one day The Friends and I decided to stop banishing him when he went off to watch Doctor Who and share it with him, only it was Rise Of The Cybermen, which was hysterically bad.


However, I did think David Tennant was cute, so I started tuning in and I guess by Army Of Ghosts I was a bit of a fan.


Then came series three and the Doctor stopped being cute and became a total git and I couldn’t bear watching him any more, so after series three, I quit watching.


Around this time I got it into The Head I wanted to watch all of Doctor Who, to decide who was the best companion (since I had loathed Rose so much, and felt so sorry for Martha), so The Housemate and I started right at the start.  I really enjoyed the early stuff, but this turned out to be a problem.  How was I supposed to know that the best companion was the first companion?  Ian. 


So once we got past The Chase when Ian and Barbara left, I just didn’t see why I had to watch another fifty years of this stuff, and then after The Tenth Planet when William Hartnell was horrifyingly replaced by Patrick Troughton I had just lost the desire to go on.


At some point after this, eventually, catching the occasional new episode, all awful, I saw the worst one yet with The Mother, both stuffed with Christmas Dinner, The End Of Time Part 1.  Neither of us had any idea what was going on.


But series five started and I had to record it for The Housemate who was at work, and so I saw bits and at some point, I started being unable to walk away.  Matt Smith was so good.  By the end of series five I was a bigger fan than I’d ever been before and I was really excited about the next series.


But then came series six, which I watched and I regret and so I gave up again, especially when I heard that Amy and Rory were going to leave.


And I have managed to avoid it pretty well until now.  When the Housemate asked me to celebrate the 50th Anniversary with him by spending all day watching Doctor Who. 


So tune in to his blog Neil Is The Best Dalek to see how that went.


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