"The Crimson Horror"

Many of the recent writers on Doctor Who grew up as fans of the programme and this is reflected in the work they do, paying tribute to the show that they loved as a child and, if there has ever been an attempt to do a 21st century version of The Talons of Weng-Chiang, "The Crimson Horror" is it. The story sets out almost immediately to be a grotesque Victorian pastiche, an ideal which is fully realised by the time we reach Sweetville, a vision of what Bournville would have been like had the Cadburys been evil. The plot is a simple one of cleansing the world’s population using a Mesozoic plague, so that the privileged few can inherit the Earth, but it is the details that give the story its shine – the vivid period dialogue, the tent-show evangelism of Mrs Gillyflower’s recruitment drive, the almost relentless Yorkshire-ness, the optograms, the intimations of the rotten extremities of late-Victorian society. However, this is no mere rehashing of past glories. The structure is unusual, with the Doctor only appearing a third of the way through, seemingly already defeated, with his initial involvement told in flashback. As one might expect from the pen of Mark Gatiss, there are jokes aplenty, although whether the fainting man and the name of the helpful urchin are a bit too over the top is a matter of opinion.

However, beneath the shine, there has to be substance and this is certainly provided by the wonderful characters in the story. There is the always welcome return of the Paternoster Gang, although Madame Vastra surrenders her spotlight somewhat to her assistants, with Strax providing some excellent comic relief and Jenny kicking ass in leather (a bit like another TV heroine I could mention). Gatiss enjoys his ripe supporting characters – the coroner could have come straight out of The Talons of Weng-Chiang. However, it is the key characters of Mrs Gillyflower and her daughter Ada that are the true gems and the casting of the legendary Diana Rigg and her talented daughter Rachael Stirling is a true gift. Mrs Gillyflower is a gleefully sadistic super-villain and bluff Yorkshire matriarch in one and Ada, despite being a victim all her life, is allowed real reserves of strength – refusing to forgive her mother and summarily dealing with Mr Sweet. Despite his apparent defeat, the Doctor is soon up and running with Matt in fine fettle – his Yorkshire accent is hilarious. Clara (at least until the final scene) is somewhat in the background, however.

Saul Metzstein concocts an intoxicating brew from Gatiss’s recipe with increasing confidence in getting memorable shots, from little things like the scrape of Ada’s stick on the ground to the presentation of the flashback, where you can almost hear the projector whirring. As expected, the production is top notch, with the period detail impeccable. A special mention must be made of Mr Sweet, without doubt the vilest monster to appear in the series this century – in fact his demise is very nasty, and the closest a family show can get to an early Sam Raimi/Peter Jackson splatter scene.

Gatiss has really returned to form this year and this hugely enjoyable story is a welcome addition to the Who canon.

NEXT: "Nightmare in Silver"