Saturday, April 24, 2010

After a glass or two of wine, I am actually quite boring

Bernard Cribbins. I was wondering why I think Bernard Cribbins is so wonderful. Old British actors – why not just go for Jeremy Irons? Well, simple. Jeremy Irons isn’t really old; like Helen Mirren he is an odd fluke of nature and good fortune, looking like no old person you ever met. Bernard Cribbins, on the other hand, is easily anybody’s amiable granddad (says she without the grandfathers) and is extremely charming as just that. That, and his name sounds like when the wee free men in Terry Pratchett’s book say “crivens!” It’s good just to say Bernard Cribbins, you see? Moreover, no one with any sympathy for the Tenth Doctor could forget that Bernard Cribbens’ Wilf is just about the only one who shows poor old Ten some love. Wilf is the stand-in for the audience stand-in; he is not only our surrogate in being the Doctor’s companion and comfort, but also in reminding him of Donna, and how she really does get the short end of the straw. Personally, I have always thought that Ten should have given Donna the choice, forgetting or dying.

As I watch this new Doctor, I try to remember the last time I grieved over the loss of a Doctor, and how I saw The Christmas Invasion and thought why, why did you take my Doctor away and who is this girl pretending to be the Doctor? So I think Matt Smith is doing ok.

By the way, you may have, but probably haven’t noticed that House has completely dropped off my radar. This seems strange in view of how the series was finally taking some brave choices, but I warned everyone that I am fickle wench. Also, I got a little bored, and then when I was ready to catch up, Hulu did a number on me so...apparently I have only missed seven episodes. Hm. I shall contemplate catching up.

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