Now with vitamins and minerals.
are binge-watchting Doctor Who. We caught up with the current incarnation and have now circled back to the original series. It’s fascinating. Last night we watched one of the lost series, Marco Polo; or rather, we watched Loose Cannon’s 2002 reconstruction with colourized still photographs and the original soundtrack.
JB could not countenance the low-tech strangeness but I watched the whole thing. Bonus: surrounding narrative performed by the very handsome Mark Eden, decades after his performance in the title role. Additional historical info entirely in keeping with the claim that education was a goal of the original series, though for the life of me, I cannot think at whom this education was aimed. The series is such an odd combination of early sixties minimalism, bordering on existentialism, and the treatment of the Doctor as the least sympathetic of an ensemble is a shock after the pugnacious hagiography of the 50th anniversary special we just watched days before. Time travel in a police box is not strange; having time travellers stuck in ancient China for seven episodes with no SF elements apart from their own presence is the pinnacle of strangeness. Kids in the 60s were a tougher breed. Certainly more intellectually flexible.
In closing, I pass on JB’s comment about Susan’s frequent screaming: “Mum, is this sexist? It seems a little sexist.”