Monday, May 10, 2010

Ditch the bint

I've enjoyed the new Doctor Who since its return in 2005. Like many I particularly appreciated David Tennant, who in my opinion is right up there with my Doctor, Tom Baker, for best ever.

I was sad to see Tennant go but happy with the choice of Matt Smith, who is an interesting looking fellow and seems to have right sort of quirkiness. I was a little more concerned about Russell T. Davies moving on too, but had faith in the producers to keep up the good work.

Hugo and I have been enjoying this latest series too, but there's been something nagging at me about it; something I couldn't quite put my finger on.

I admit I was not at all impressed with the new, colourful Gay Daleks, but I can let that go in the hope that they return to resembling cold-hearted killing machines one day, rather than a cross between a novelty shampoo bottle and a dodgem car. (And what's up with their enormous arses?)

Anyway, Gay Daleks aside, I've figured out what's been bugging me. It's bloody Amy Pond.

To me an important aspect of the Doctor and his companions is that wherever they go they care for and respect the people they meet. They relish the thrill of travelling through time and space, get excited about it, share the rush and appreciate how incredibly fortunate they are.

It seems to me that by contrast Amy just swans about the place, pouting at the Doctor at every opportunity and taking the piss out of anyone with whom she comes into contact. There's no respect, no awe, no joy; just an unfortunate arrogance. Her treatment of Churchill in Victory of the Daleks is a case in point: "Oi, Churchill!"

It's a shame, as Smith is shaping up to be a good Doctor, and the storylines are not too shabby.

Just ditch the pouting bint.

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