Ten Things About Who: The Crimson Horror

This post has been edited, tidied up and expanded to form part of my new ebook, TEN THINGS ABOUT WHO, available on Kindle. Buy it now for £1.99More details

1. “Only the crumbliest, flakiest humans…”

The naming of Mrs Gillyflower’s match factory as ‘Sweetville’ invites comparison with Bournville, the community created by George and Richard Cadbury to house the workers and families of their chocolate factory when production moved out of Birmingham to a new greenfield site.

As it is, it is more a pastiche of the whole ‘model village’ movement, in which industrialists whose new, heavily industrialised factories constructed whole townships for the required large workforce and their families, on philanthropic lines infused by the owners’ Christian values. Bournville is, of course, one such community, formed by the Quaker Cadbury brothers. Sweetville’s Yorkshire location more closely invites comparison with Saltaire, founded by Sir Titus Salt and now a World Heritage site.

Mind you, I did for one moment wonder whether the fuchsia-coloured liquid that Sweetville’s inhabitants were being doused in was fondant, and that Mr Sweet would turn out to be The Kandyman from 1988’s The Happiness Patrol

2. Special stuff

Maybe it’s just the camp sendup of the gothic, maybe it’s the Yorkshire accents – but this week’s episode felt like it was a (family friendly) sibling to The League of Gentlemen. The mortuary attendant, with his leering tone and wandering tongue, could easily have been a Steve Pemberton creation.

Continue reading Ten Things About Who: The Crimson Horror

Funeral blues (And yellows. And reds. And greens. And…)

The mourners wore black. The Doctor wore every other colour. He told Peri that funerals should be a time of celebration. “Life is ephemeral for the individual, but eternal for society.”

Peri replied that the melancholy atmosphere at funerals was necessary. The Doctor shushed her. “Killjoy.”

On his other side, a friend of the deceased was sobbing her heart out. Passing her a heliotrope handkerchief, he placed a kindly hand on her arm. “He was a happy man,” he told her. “In his memory, let happiness prevail.”

Helen A looked at this brightly garbed stranger. She would do her best.