tv reviews
Doctor Who Christmas Special: The Doctor, the Widow and the Wardrobe, BBC One
Kieron Tyler

Next time you glance up at the stars, spare a thought for your Christmas tree. It’s probably topped by a star, but some of those in the sky might just be the spirit of the tree itself. By helping free the spirits of the trees in a forest, the Doctor transported the symbols of Christmas into an adventure that only he could have instigated. The combination of Christmas, the World War Two setting, Matt Smith’s vitality and a family uncertain of their future ensured this nostalgic fantasy was an instant seasonal classic.

The war is ongoing and Christmas is almost here. Madge Arwell comes across a strange man in a strange suit, whose face she can’t see. She helps him find a police box. She has also received the telegram telling her that pilot husband Reg is lost. Afraid to tell her children, Cyril and Lily, she doesn’t want this to become the Christmas that breaks their hearts. Keeping the secret, she takes them to a country mansion for the holidays and finds a caretaker who’s turned the rooms into a crazy, Willy Wonka version of what comes with Christmas. The caretaker is the Doctor, returning to thank her for helping him out.

The Doctor, the Widow and the WardrobeHe’s also left a present, a large box, in the living room. It’s irresistible for Cyril, who opens it early. In his dressing gown, he steps in, entering a snowy forest. In turn, they all enter, discovering the gift isn’t what the Doctor thought it was. It’s not Narnia. About to be harvested, the spirits of the forest’s trees need help escaping their fate. Madge is the key and, in full-on protective mother mode, she comes to the aid of Cyril, Lily and The Doctor, giving the spirits their release.

Matt Smith’s Doctor was at his most paradoxical. Manic, charming, eager to please, isolated and jumping in without weighing the consequences, he was forlorn, yet enthusiastic and magnetic. Thankfully, Claire Skinner’s Madge Arwell was there to pull everyone out of danger before it sucked them all in irreversibly. Holly Earl’s Lily Arwell was level-headed, her quizzical acceptance of all that came along exactly what you’d hope for in any kid that comes across the Doctor.

The Doctor, the Widow and the WardrobeAs Cyril, Maurice Cole was a delight (pictured left). From the Milky Bar Kid on, any boy in oversize, milk-bottle-bottom-lensed round glasses is going to be a classic. Alexander Armstrong has been perfecting the what-ho type for years, so he was perfect. Bill Bailey, Arabella Weir and Paul Bazely as the bumbling, uncertain operatives monitoring the harvesting of the forest tempered the impending peril.

Despite the borrowings from The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe, the strongest reference was the great Powell and Pressburger film A Matter of Life and Death, released in 1946 as the meaning and effects of the War were being digested. The film was central to the process of understanding. Alexander Armstrong’s Reg Arwell explicitly brought David Niven's Peter Carter to mind, as did the scenes of his lost, doomed plane and his unexpected return to earth. The Doctor became A Matter of Life and Death’s guide, Maris Goring’s Conductor 71. The trees became the film’s angels – as well as stars, angels also crown a Christmas tree.

The Doctor, the Widow and the WardrobeThere were no Doctor Who perennials: no Daleks, no Cybermen, and virtually no role for any companions (Amy and Rory were seen at the end). The modern series isn’t tied to its history. The wooden King and Queen created by the forest were never going to be adversaries. The Doctor and Doctor Who renew themselves just as the programme bowls onwards. Six years and three Doctors after it returned to the TV schedules, The Doctor, the Widow and the Wardrobe was further confirmation that the series is in a constant state of renewal.

However Doctor Who has evolved, the question of which of his predecessors Smith most closely evokes inevitably bubbles up. This Christmas, the lonely, can’t-get-it-quite-right, slightly patrician Doctor offered a subtle nod to where it all began. Was he a souped-up William Hartnell? But as ever, the Doctor will move on, leaving such thoughts behind.

Overleaf: watch the trailer for The Doctor, the Widow and the Wardrobe

The Joy of Country, BBC Four
Adam Sweeting

The makers of this short history of country music had done a good job of rounding up interviewees, who included such veterans as Ray Price, Merle Haggard and Charley Pride alongside the offspring of several country legends. We met Shooter Jennings (son of Waylon), Hank Williams III and Georgette Jones (daughter of Tammy Wynette and George Jones).

London's Burning, Channel 4
Adam Sweeting

What finer way to nudge us gently towards the forthcoming festivities and celebrate the season of goodwill than by creating a lurid reconstruction of the riots that scorched through London last summer. London's Burning was assembled principally from news footage of the events, which you'll recall was copious and shockingly vivid, while interspersing it with dramatic re-enactments of people's real-life experiences in Clapham. Quite what it was trying to tell us I'm not sure.

Imagine: The Art of Stand-up, BBC One
Veronica Lee

What makes something funny? Why do comics stand on stage in front of strangers and try to make them laugh? Is any subject beyond a joke? What is the purpose of Alan Yentob? Those questions – OK, only the first three – were raised by Imagine's presenter in this, the first of a two-parter about the art of stand-up.

Young James Herriot, BBC One
Jasper Rees

You can see why prequels come into being. A dramatic character becomes a national treasure and eventually, once old age or worse removes them from the small screen, they are opportunistically exhumed by means of the backstory. Young Delboy was brought back to life in Rock and Chips. Young Morse is expected to be solving murders soon. And now here comes Young James Herriot.

Masterchef: The Professionals, BBC Two
Ismene Brown

There are all sorts of reality shows, but the best ones really do strip people bare. It’s the reason why The X Factor is more interesting than Strictly Come Dancing, why Don’t Tell the Bride is more revealing of the gamble of love than Snog, Marry, Avoid? It’s the reason why Masterchef: The Professionals is more gripping than the estimable Great British Bake-Off.

The Slap, BBC Four
howard.male

While the rest of the country has been busy discussing the knitwear of Denmark’s answer to DCI Jane Tennison, I found myself bereft of anyone to share my unbridled enthusiasm for this Australian adaptation of Christos Tsiolkas’s novel The Slap. Even at the virtual watercooler of Facebook, only one person gave me a thumbs up when I wrote a paragraph on its excellence. Why a fairly generic murder procedural should inspire such obsessive devotion while a completely original and gripping family drama is relatively ignored is something of a mystery.

Steve Jobs: Billion Dollar Hippy, BBC Two
Jasper Rees

He would not hesitate to wake up employees at all hours to yak about ideas. He could fire an underling in the seconds it took for the elevator to ferry him to or from his fourth-floor office. He shouted, like, a lot, even at Bill Gates. Especially at Bill Gates. And yet the great and the good last night all queued to waft smoke up the posthumous iHole: Tim Berners-Lee, who invented the internet, Norman Foster, who invented the glass airport, Stephen Bayley, who invented designer waffle.

Imagine: Books – the Last Chapter? BBC One
Kieron Tyler

“Will the app clicker replace the page turner?” asked Alan Yentob’s state-of-play rumination on the book. It’s a cutely phrased question and, as everyone reading this will be familiar with the digital world – this is theartsdesk, after all – a fair one. Will zeroes and ones make the book redundant, a sort of totem, or will it adapt, taking on the new forms presented by the digital world? The programme didn’t answer the questions, but at least it did show the possibilities.

I Had the X Factor... 25 Years Ago, BBC Two
Adam Sweeting

This was the television equivalent of the slaves in ancient Rome, who used to run alongside their imperial masters whispering in their ear, "Remember, you are mortal." Long before the tantrums, bombast and megalomania of The X Factor, there was New Faces, ITV's Birmingham-based talent show. Its theme tune was Carl Wayne's "You're a Star!" Alf Lawrie's film revisited the 1986 finalists of New Faces to find out how the last 25 years had treated them, and it proved to be an unassuming gem of observational film-making.