Summer finally arrived this week. The United Kingdom bathed in glorious temperatures in excess of thirty degrees Celsius. The world arrived in London for the Olympic Games. True to form temperatures and expectations dropped faster than the Greek currency and we were left with what could only be described as the quintessential British weather for an opening that was reportedly watched by 1 billion people. Nice.
Speaking of the quintessential British, Dr Who is making a return this autumn. If the trailer is anything to go by then it will be a high, octane, Michael Bay explosion riddled, smorgasbord of action. I begin to worry, because my memories of our beloved time lord were as a result of watching it, sometimes between the fingers of my hands.
What was true then, was the fact that, though exciting, our time lord went through adventures that were more cerebral than anything else. Now some may argue that it is as a result of the massive following in the US that the producers have felt compelled to pander to our, slow thinking, gung ho, leaders without a cause from across the pond. What we may end up with is a show being more transformed than the face of a middle aged blonde from Hollywood. Having less to do with substance and more to do with “sock it to them”.
Dr Who is our show, a brilliant invention that has swept across the world. We like it the way it is, with its wobbly sets, mediocre special effects and its charm , wit and storytelling that could only come from a country that truly did rule the world, and not from one that through its own self dillusion still thinks it does!
Let this be a warning to us all, do not dilute the thing that makes us what we are in an attempt to be more popular, if so we may end up, ultimately, being more disappointed than Boris Johnson’s stylist.