So! The Doctor has faced Daleks, Cybermen, Silurians and John Barrowman's libido - and now he faces the greatest peril of all...Hollywood.
They're going to make a movie of Doctor Who. OK, so it's the Harry Potter I team lined up for the gig, but still...this is my childhood Saturdays they're rewriting.
More than that, though, there's no place for Russell T Davies on the team and that's...just...daft. It was his vision - his blend of terror and comedy and camp and magnificence and tragedy and redemption that brought the whole damn' thing back from the dead. Good grief, they're not using Steven Moffat either, so the film won't have the ability to make me think deep philosophical thoughts and require a change of underwear at the same time.
This was a franchise revived - sorry, fans of David Tennant and Christopher Ecclestone, but it's true - by writers. Writers just like me, although only in the same sense that sharks are fish just like minnows. I hope to God the Hollywood boys read the TV scripts carefully because, otherwise.... I shall just say "Paul McGann" and leave your quivering, terrified minds to fill in the blanks.
Not a happy hack. Not at all.
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