Posts Tagged With: sleep no more

Five things that Doctor Who could learn from Twin Peaks (part two)

 

Population 51,201. Possibly not for much longer.

(If you missed Part One, it’s available here.)

Now, where were we…?

3. Resolutions are for wimps

It’s funny how the words “What year is this?” sound great at the beginning of a Doctor Who episode but were a notorious let-down for many fans when they dumped them at the end of the Twin Peaks finale. As Cooper and the resurrected Laura / Carrie / whoever the hell she was leave the Palmer residence and stand in the street outside, Cooper’s mute hesitancy returns: dumbstruck and unable to do anything, his final line of dialogue is an unhelpful question that addresses nothing at all. It’s left to Laura to have the last word, although said last word is a scream that could outdo Bonnie Langford. In a parallel universe where Doctor Who was made in America, she’d have made a hell of a companion.

It was frustrating as hell, but there was something glorious about it. Having spent the last few weeks gradually building up to Cooper’s triumphant return, Lynch grants us a final confrontation with BOB (who is dispatched, somewhat bizarrely, by a cockney geezer wearing a single glove who punches him to death). You could probably have left it there, and we’d have been happy, more or less. Instead Lynch retcons the last twenty-five years (the ramifications of which are glossed over in Cooper’s warning that “There are some things that will change”) and then sends Cooper and Diane off on a fool’s errand: to find Laura Palmer. They cross (we presume) to a parallel universe, have sex in a motel, whereupon Cooper wakes up somewhere else. None of it makes sense. Oh, there are fan theories. There inevitably are. Where no explanation is provided, it is human nature to find one. But when it comes to the entity formerly known as Judy, no answer is given beyond the vaguest of explanations: Lynch, it seems, is happy to leave things as they are, perhaps for good.

There is a scene at the end of episode 16 that caused collective jaws to drop. You know the one I mean. It’s the one with Audrey. There is a moment you realise something is up: it’s when the master of ceremonies announces ‘Audrey’s Dance’, whereupon Ms. Horne slides seductively across a deserted dance floor, surrounded by onlookers – until the moment we flash-cut to a scene in a white room, where she’s staring into a mirror. The implication is that Audrey is in some kind of hospital (one would assume psychiatric) and that the scenario in which she found herself – a rich, embittered woman searching for a missing family member – was taking place entirely in her head, with her pedantic, hopelessly mismatched husband quite possibly a real life doctor who’d managed to work his way into the delusion. It is then that you realise that every conversation Audrey has had – every scene, come to that – has taken place in the company of this man and this man alone, thus leading us to imagine that somewhere along the line (presumably after she slept with Cooper) she went completely off the rails, and that everything we thought she’d seen was strictly in her head.

Still, that’s as far as it goes. It’s an implication because we never visit or hear from Audrey again, her plot strand left tantalisingly dangling. As a potential framing device it’s devastatingly effective, calling to mind Buffy’s ‘Normal Again’: just how much of the story, besides the scenes we know about, took place inside Audrey’s head? That’s a question we’d perhaps be unable to ask ourselves had we been party to any sort of further glimpse into her mental state; the more abstract the resolution, the greater the scope for filling the gaps. Similarly, the frustrating / glorious thing about the finale is that it opens up a world of possibilities and leaves them there, the same way that series 2 left things on a cliffhanger back when Cooper was sat in that bathroom. There is something nice about being able to answer the question yourself. Besides, cliffhangers are eventually resolved, after a fashion, even if it takes twenty-five years. We may not yet be done with Carrie Page and whatever it was she was running from.

Curiously there’s one episode of Doctor Who that actually does this quite well, if only because the planned sequel to ‘Sleep No More’ has yet to materialise and indeed is now looking increasingly unlikely. It means there are frequent requests on social media for clarification. It sadly also means the episode sits near the bottom of people’s lists of favourite stories, simply because some people don’t like its unresolved state. Well, I guess you can’t have everything.

 

4. You don’t have to make a point

I’ve just read a Tweet from Marie Claire that incensed me. They recently published an article in which they called out Taylor Swift for, among other things, remaining apolitical in the 2016 election. “Taylor is not required to be vocal about her politics,” they said, “…but it’s also fair to side-eye and question her decision to remain silent.”

No it bloody isn’t. When you’re thrust into the public eye you’re expected, up to a point, to be a role model for the impressionable young people who idolise you, but that only works so far. It is not the responsibility of any celebrity to state political allegiances, discuss social issues or make statements on abuse and feminism. That is a matter of personal choice, irrespective of how many people follow them on Twitter. They don’t have to say anything – and when they do, we inevitably tell them to shut up and keep recording music / making films / writing Harry Potter books, as if the creative process ought to be sufficiently fulfilling in itself. You can’t have it both ways. We lambast the political actors as much as we decry the ones who stay on the fence – or who are sensible enough to stay quiet on issues they don’t want to discuss. An apolitical outlook is not a mark of cowardice; it’s a sign of integrity.

Doctor Who is equally obsessed with Talking About Important Things. Actually, that’s not fair. It’s more that the BBC are equally obsessed. 300-word soundbite articles about social commentary are endemic. If it’s not the racism in ‘Thin Ice’ (a story which foreshadowed the Punch A Nazi phenomenon with uncanny precision) it’s the capitalism in ‘Oxygen’, or the gay thing in…oh, every sodding episode. Listen. ‘Oxygen’ is a great story because it is bloody scary. That’s it. It has space zombies and and that brilliant scene where they’re exposed to the vacuum. The air-as-commodity thing may be what drives the narrative but I don’t watch Doctor Who for its political content, astute (if somewhat heavy handed) as that may sometimes be. I watch it because it has monsters and because it makes me laugh, when it’s good. There’s plenty of political content in The Spectator; all futurism aside, why on earth would you look for it in a tinpot sci-fi show?

I’m not saying it’s wrong to use science fiction as a medium for this. That’s the joy of it; the detached setting allows you to say the things you can’t say about your contemporaries. There’s a reason ‘The Happiness Patrol’ is one of my favourites. But note the indefinite article there – a reason, not the reason. ‘Happiness’ is also great because it looks moody (on a shoestring) and it has a freakish Bertie Bassett monster. Do we remember ‘The Zygon Inversion’ because it frightens and occasionally surprises us, or because Harness uses a sledgehammer to crack a nut in that game-changing monologue? Would it have been improved with a closing fourth wall break to camera, the sort of thing they did in Masters of the Universe? Should the Doctor tell us to take care of ourselves, and each other?

What messages do you find in Lynch’s movies? Oh, there are plenty. The Straight Story was about family. The Elephant Man examines the Victorian freak show on two levels, both upstairs and downstairs. And there’s a heap of stuff about the darkness hidden beneath the surface of suburban respectability; that’s practically his entire output, although Blue Velvet was the archetype. Twin Peaks is about a man who rapes and murders his daughter but curiously that’s where it stops. There is no heavy-handed moral. Instead there is a quirky FBI agent with a caffeine addiction who rides into town admiring the trees, and the rapist father falls on top of his daughter’s coffin at the funeral.

Series 3 is even more abstract. Things happen because they happen: Richard is an irredeemable bastard simply because he is the offspring of Bob. Dougie Jones is a gambling addict in a bad way with the loan sharks, but the programme makes no comment on this beyond showing the impact it’s had on his marriage – a situation that is resolved, paradoxically, when Cooper wins big at the casino. Twin Peaks is a show about a good many things, but it has no real message to impart – merely a Rorschach collection of fragments, from which we may derive what we will. The only thing it has to say of any real substance, as it turns out, is death.

Speaking of which…

 

5. There is a right way and a wrong way to show death

My feelings on death in Doctor Who are complicated, but there’s a decent summary of them over at The Doctor Who Companion. Here’s the Cliff Notes: Doctor Who has it all wrong when it comes to death. Characters die and then show up again next episode. They’re given miracle cures, frozen hearts, parallel existences. Often, the word ‘death’ means something else entirely. You have seen all this and you do not need me to go through it again with you. In addressing its portrayal of the hereafter (or at least the end of the herebefore), the outgoing showrunner proclaims that “Doctor Who is a big-hearted, optimistic show that believes in kindness and love and that wisdom will triumph in the end. I don’t believe it’s the kind of show that says there are bitter, twisted, nasty endings because it’s not.”

Which is not a bad way to think, but it sidesteps the question. We’re not talking about a show where people face death and then manage, against all odds, to survive. I could live with that. We’re talking about a programme which actively kills its leads and then resurrects them, or in which death is rendered meaningless because of parallel universes, or time travel, or causality – or something that happened six episodes back that we didn’t see. That’s the Marvel approach to death. That’s cheating. I’m fine with happy endings. But don’t give us a happy ending when you’ve already given us a sad one. All it does is undermine death, and at the risk of sounding all Mary Whitehouse, that’s not a healthy mindset to induce in a young and impressionable audience.

Twin Peaks was always going to be different, because it’s a show about a murder, and a number of people die. But the greatest and most profound moment in the third series occurs in part 15, where the Twin Peaks Sheriff’s Office gets its final phone call from Margaret Lanterman, known to most of us as The Log Lady. Having spent the entire series housebound, her cryptic announcements rendered in a series of conversations, the Log Lady admits in these final moments of her life that “There’s some fear…some fear of letting go”. Ultimately she embraces it, but not without trepidation, and as she signs off for the final occasion, the clouds cover the moon. There is a devastating poignancy in this elegy for a fallen mystic, both in the mournful tone of Lanterman’s final words and the the dignified silence they receive from Hawk. It is conducted more or less in silence, the gaps between dialogue forming a subtext that is almost Pinteresque. The fact that Catherine Coulson was herself dying when this scene was shot – passing away, if the urban legends have it correctly, a mere four days later – is the icing on a very rich, bitter cake.

 

And there you have it. It’s not all-inclusive, nor is it definitive. And it may be wrong. I’m always happy for people to tell me I’m wrong. But it’s one way we might revive the hopes of a stagnant (if still enjoyable) programme: look at what other people are doing, and learn from them. Times change and so must I, says the Doctor. Perhaps the extent to which things need to change is greater than anyone realises. Perhaps not. But it can’t do any harm to be talking about it.

The best thing we saw on TV this year, incidentally, was Midnight Sun. But perhaps I’ll save that one for another day.

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God is in the detail (9-9)

Can you hear me? Right. Good. Important announcement: DO NOT READ THIS. You cannot unsee it. Insanity lies therein. It’s too late for me. I’m seeing patterns everywhere, and they haunt my dreams like images of childhood bullies and doing the school run stark naked. You still have a chance. Get out now, while you still can. Before it’s too late.

First, congratulations are in order to Chris Kibbey, for being the only person to take a public stab at last week’s homework – getting it absolutely correct into the bargain. The answer, as I’m sure you all know by now, is ‘START PAIN NOW LATER’, which is a clear and direct reference to the upcoming ‘Face the Raven’, in which it is looking increasingly likely that Clara will die, and which – according to Capaldi – is set to be “sad over a number of weeks”. Furthermore, having broken the cipher, we may rearrange the letters of this message to form ‘AIRPLANE TWATS TORN’, which hearkens back to the events of ‘Death In Heaven’. Obviously.

Anyway, well done Chris, and having dealt with this we may now move on to look at ‘Sleep No More’. There were the usual abundance of CRYPTIC BUT IMPORTANT messages hidden in assorted visual clues, but we start with one of those crew-identifying close-ups.

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First, look at the dots beneath Nagata’s 8/10 survival rating. Eight solid red, each corresponding to the first eight canonical Doctors. The subsequent black represents both the War Doctor and also the Valeyard, and we may therefore conclude that the Doctor will spend the series finale tussling once more with his darker self, before meeting up once more with John Hurt.

However: Nagata shares her name with Nagata Acoustics – which “provides comprehensive consulting to achieve the proper balance among architectural, acoustical, visual stage and other space requirements”, and which has offices operating out of Los Angeles, Paris and Tokyo. Of note: Los Angeles was visited by the Eleventh Doctor (‘The Doctor and the Nurse’), the Tenth Doctor visited Tokyo with Martha (‘Operation Lock-up’) and the Fourth Doctor famously hung out in Paris in ‘City of Death’. Note that the actors for ALL THREE DOCTORS appeared in ‘Day of the Doctor’. Figure that one out.

Now examine this:

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Once more, dots are the key. Each of the red dots on the visual display on the left corresponds to a different Doctor, thus forming a central chain of six Doctors around the cylindrical column in the centre. On the left and right, a further two, thus leading the total once more to eight. YOU WILL NOTE THAT THE FIRST IMAGE ALSO CONTAINED EIGHT. THIS IS LEADING UP TO THE RETURN OF PAUL MCGANN.

More than this, the presence of all eight Doctors surrounding the column neatly (and intentionally) summarises the finale of ‘The Light At The End’, in which the first eight Doctors perform a time ram on the Master’s TARDIS (which, in several stories, took the form of a column), thereby undoing his diabolical scheme.

Finally, consider the eye-type display at the bottom left. We’ve already discussed the Valeyard, an evil counterpart to the Doctor sandwiched between two late regenerations – and this is linked to him. Sit down for this next bit, because it’s something of a belter. The presence of the white dot on the bottom, positioned neatly between the ‘3’ and ‘4’ sections on the dial, purports to another Watcher, one that was present in UNIT in the 1970s / 80s / whenever, during the scene in ‘Planet of the Spiders’ when the Doctor regenerated.

Except that this Watcher was not needed; in the end, the Doctor’s regeneration was facilitated by the mystical Cho-Je. Therefore, this Watcher remained drifting, unused and unrealised; this Watcher thus become the Valeyard. (The close alphabetical proximity of ‘U’, ‘V’ and ‘W’ – used for significant words in that last sentence – is not a coincidence.)

Let’s move on. How’s your reading?

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As you’ve anticipated, numbers are the key. They repeat, so I’ve isolated the specifics:

39900076 – Gagan Rassmussen

8880234 – Osamu Chopra

633389 – Deep-Ando

HJSSLL56890 – Daiki Nagata

H999267 – Leverrier

474T000 – 474

00002458888C – The Doctor

Clara Oswald

And I’ll give you this, and we’ll say no more about it, except that I recommend opening it in a separate tab so you can read it properly.

Sleep_Numbers

Finally, this piece of wall writing, which I’ve lightened for the sake of clarity.

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The ‘Fast Forward’ and ‘Rewind’ symbols are CLEAR AND UNAMBIGUOUS INDICATORS that the next adventure will take place in both the Doctor’s past and also his future. Note that the figure beneath is both LOOKING TO and POINTING TO the LEFT. You know why that’s important. YOU KNOW.

However, that top image. It’s a difficult one, isn’t it? Unless you’ve been to a supermarket recently.

shopping-trolley-sign-9282477

Why is this significant? Well, if you know your Big Finish you will recall that Arabella Weir played an alternate version of the Third Doctor, living out her exile on Earth in the guise of an alcoholic supermarket trolley stacker. There were VISITING TIME LORDS and DODGY TROLLEYS and a TIME LORD WHO HAD CHANGED GENDER. And there was vodka. All this points towards AN ENFORCED REGENERATION at the hands of the Time Lords, which will then be undone in time for the Christmas special.

And speaking of vodka, I think I need some now. I promise not to get trolleyed.

Categories: God is in the Detail | Tags: , , , , , | 3 Comments

Nap time

Three images for today, two from ‘Sleep No More’. One I can’t get quite right, despite best efforts, but never mind.

The second one will only make sense if you’ve seen Bing. To anyone who has, it was kind of obvious.

And talking of CBeebies, anyone who was watching last week will probably have seen the episode of Topsy and Tim in which Mossy the dog shuffled off this mortal coil – an episode that I really didn’t expect to have me in tears, but there you go. Blame the hormones. In the days following the episode’s transmission, the CBeebies Facebook page has been awash with memes showing Mossup (the real life dog who played Mossy) Photoshopped into various places, leading to some confusion from stupid people (“Hang on, isn’t she dead?”) and at least one person saying “THIS IS NOT APPROPRIATE!”, when a better choice of words would surely have been “I WAS NOT EXPECTING THIS!”

Mossy_1 Mossy_2

So naturally, I did one as well. Because why not?

 

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Review: ‘Sleep No More’

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Disclaimer: What follows is not exactly a review, because this is the sort of episode that defies conventional reviewing. It is a dramatised behind-the-scenes look with the reviewer’s opinions shoehorned in; it is completely fictional, and any similarity to real situations is pure luck. Please take it in the spirit in which it was intended, i.e. hastily written and not terribly funny.

 

INT. STEVEN MOFFAT’S OFFICE. DAY

[A Thursday afternoon sometime in December. MARK GATISS sitting on a sofa, in conversation with STEVEN MOFFAT – who, unbeknownst to Mark, is playing Candy Crush on Facebook, even while thumbing through a script on his desk.]

STEVEN: Sleep deprivation’s been done, Mark.

MARK: Not like this.

STEVEN: The X-Files managed it twenty years ago.

MARK: It’s topical. Didn’t you see that whole propaganda speech I put in about hyper-productivity and how everyone’s going to be able to do more? That sort of thing’s always fun to tear down. The junior doctors are going to love it.

STEVEN: I’ve already got Peter Harness doing immigration. We can be topical but I can’t be seen to be too left-wing. The Mail already have me on speed dial.

MARK: This isn’t like the others. They don’t go mad and start killing everyone.

STEVEN: They don’t?

MARK: Page thirty.

[Moffat thumbs. Reads. Nods.]

STEVEN: Anything else I should know?

MARK: I wanted the computer to sound like GLADos.

STEVEN: Fine, but I’m casting British. We don’t want a lawsuit.

MARK: Hey, you Frankenstein, me Igor.

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INT. DOCTOR WHO PRODUCTION OFFICES. DAY

[A read-through is in progress. JENNA COLEMAN, PETER CAPALDI, REECE SHEARSMITH, MARK GATISS, STEVEN MOFFAT all present.]

PETER [reading]: “What used to be sleep in your eye has turned into a carnivorous life form.”

JENNA: Oh, you are shitting me.

PETER: Yeah, that’s – I’m pretty sure that’s not in the script, Jenna.

[There is laughter, with an underlying tension.]

STEVEN: Problem, Jen?

JENNA: This is utterly ridiculous! You’ve written –

STEVEN [pointing at Mark]: Hey, he! He’s written –

JENNA: I mean, he’s written, whatever, he’s written a monster that’s made out of sleep dust.

MARK: It’s never been done before, though.

JENNA: No, because it’s a fucking stupid idea! It defies common sense and logic! It’s the worst kind of pseudoscience! It’s worse than Spitfires on the moon! This is supposed to be new levels of realism and my suspension of disbelief just had its strings cut.

STEVEN: Don’t hold back, Jenna, tell us what’s really bothering you.

JENNA: Shut up. Look, it’s as bad as that episode of Red Dwarf where Chris Barrie was gonna clone himself out of dandruff. And that was supposed to be funny.

PETER: Yeah, that one was funny, actually.

JENNA: Was. I don’t know. Yeah.

MARK: Look, it’s – they’re gonna look horrible. In my head, I mean, they’re like big brown things. Big wrinkled brown things with enormous mouths.

STEVEN [to the room]: Don’t spread that around, everyone, it’s not on the list of controlled leaks.

JENNA: Made of sleep crust.

MARK: Yeah.

[There is a very tense pause.]

JENNA: Probably a good thing this guy wasn’t trying to cure the common cold.

[A burst of laughter across the entire team, and the tension’s gone.]

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INT. BBC CAFETERIA. DAY

[Lunch. REECE SHEARSMITH is sitting with ELAINE TAN.]

ELAINE: So how’d you get the Adventures in Space gig, anyway?

REECE: Oh, Mark owed me a favour. I said I really wanted to play Troughton.

ELAINE: For one scene.

REECE: There was supposed to be more of it, but it’s on a cutting room floor somewhere.

ELAINE: It didn’t make the DVD?

REECE: No.

ELAINE: It wasn’t really acting, though, was it? You just sort of turned up in a wig and did a bad impression.

REECE: But it needed to be there. It’s the whole transition thing.

ELAINE: And by the time they found out you couldn’t actually do Troughton, it was too late.

REECE: Exactly.

[They clink cappuccino mugs.]

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INT. SET. DAY

[A chase is being filmed. JENNA is running up a corridor; all of a sudden she trips and falls.]

ASSISTANT DIRECTOR: Cut! OK, reset, we’ll go again.

JENNA: Owww! Shit, I think I twisted my ankle.

PETER: Oh, Terry Nation would’ve loved you.

JENNA: Shut it and help me up.

FIRST UNIT DIRECTOR: Jenna, you all right?

JENNA: These shoes are abominable. Why couldn’t I have worn the Faith ones? They were great. They were flat.

FIRST UNIT DIRECTOR: Listen, costume’s not really my department, but I think it was the cameras, they needed decent eyelines for the handhelds –

JENNA: It’s not my fault I’m short!

PETER: Listen, Caroline John managed a weir in a miniskirt, and that was in January. You can do cope with gratings.

JENNA: I’d like to see the Doctor manage this in heels.

PETER: So would half the audience, I think.

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INT. ANOTHER SET. DAY

[An abandoned power station somewhere. Neet Mohan and Bethany Black wander corridors.]

BETHANY: Quiet. Little too quiet.

NEET: Are you in character?

BETHANY: No, I mean generally. What is it? Something’s different.

NEET: No idea.

BETHANY: I think it’s Murray Gold.

NEET [sucks in teeth]: I knew there was something different about this week.

BETHANY: There it is.

NEET: I find it refreshing. Certainly a change from the usual overwrought stuff. At least you can hear the dialogue.

BETHANY: You say that like it’s a good thing.

NEET: It’s not?

BETHANY: The problem is it sounds like dialogue. It doesn’t – look, in real life situations, like the one this is supposed to be mirroring, people don’t do complete sentences. They talk over each other, they –

NEET: I know that, I’m just, I’m just saying –

BETHANY: – interrupt each other, there’s no –

NEET: – look, we don’t want to alienate the audience, right? If it’s too Woody Allen people are gonna switch off. We’re already pushing the envelope.

BETHANY: Please! The envelope is still on the table. The sealant is still applied. The corners are undamaged. The –

NEET: You know, I think I prefer you in Hulk Smash mode.

BETHANY: Whatevs.

9_9 Sleep No More (4)

 

INT. ANOTHER SET. DAY

[PETER and JENNA are between takes.]

PETER: It’s different though, you’ve gotta give it that.

JENNA: It is different. It’s like nothing we’ve ever done before. But the rushes are giving me nausea.

PETER: Do we even have those anymore?

JENNA: You know what I mean. There are just so many cameras.

PETER: And for the first time I can look at them without the fanboys ranting about the fourth wall!

JENNA: It just wasn’t what I thought it was gonna be.

PETER: Listen, Blair Witch was low-tech because it wouldn’t have worked any other way. The multi-camera thing is part of the story.

JENNA: Yeah, about that, am I missing a page? Is this one of those things where they only send it out to you, and you’re not supposed to tell me?

PETER: No, I think Mark’s lobbying for a follow-up.

JENNA: Hence the ending.

PETER: Hence that.

[Awkward pause]

PETER: You’re not gonna say anything, are you? ‘Cause we don’t want a repeat of the read-through.

JENNA: I’m just saying, why don’t they turn on the sprinklers? Boom. Problem solved.

PETER: Because they don’t have sprinklers.

JENNA: They have space-sprinklers.

PETER: Don’t start that again.

JENNA: Hey, I got him to put it in.

PETER: Look, it’s not Ibsen, but it’s better than the Daleks one.

JENNA: My nephew’s written better than the Daleks one, and he’s seven. You’re just defending it because he gave you Shakespeare.

PETER: I really, really want that nomination.

9_9 Sleep No More (3)

 

INT. STEVEN’S HOUSE. NIGHT

[STEVEN is sitting with his feet up; fingers thumb the surface of an iPad. SUE VERTUE is on a laptop on the other side of the room. An iPlayer broadcast of the episode has just finished: somewhat anomalously, the credits roll.]

SUE: Well, that’s gonna freak out the kids.

STEVEN: Always the plan. Come on, you have to hand it to him. A story about getting enough sleep, or else, broadcast just before bedtime.

SUE: Except everyone uses iPlayer these days.

STEVEN: Well, I can’t do everything.

SUE: How’s the Twitter feed?

STEVEN: Oh, it’s downright hysterical. There’s a guy here who decided to explain the word ‘pet’ to the Americans.

SUE: Just don’t go on the Guardian. You know it affects your blood pressure.

STEVEN: I won’t.

SUE: Coming to bed?

STEVEN: Shortly. Need to do the next set of soundbites for the press releases. See you so-

[He looks up from his iPad and notices that Sue is giving him a very odd look.]

STEVEN: Why are you staring at me like that?

SUE: Don’t stay awake too long.

[She dissolves into sleep dust. Steven screams. Cut to black.]

9_9 Sleep No More (1)

S9-09_Sleep

Categories: New Who, Reviews | Tags: , , , , , , , , , | 6 Comments

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