What's the deal with Glee? And no, this is not the beginning of a Seinfeld-ian riff. I'm genuinely interested. I love the show and have had the cast albums on repeat recently. But I can't quite fathom why it's so popular with people who aren't me and my friends--namely dorky, drama-club hairbrush singers. I mean, we were always going to love it--but, somehow, a lot of other folks are singing right along with us. So, what's the deal with Glee?
While I'm not a professor of cultural studies, I'm all alone on this thing, so here goes: I think the success of Glee stems from the merging of two disparate, yet intertwined, cultural trends. First, there's what I'm going to call the American Idol factor. Secondly, and just as important, is the Great Geeking Out.
First, the AI factor. The hugely popular singing competition has spawned many imitators and has also revived an appreciation for really, really cheesy singing. Before AI, it was rather hard to imagine that whole families--grandma, parents, and little Billie and Susie--would sit around the TV two nights a week to watch a bunch of squeaky-clean 20-somethings sing the hits of the BeeGees. AI made music fun again--and pretty much everyone came along for the ride. The message was clear: Americans like watching (fairly) good singers sing fun songs. It was only a matter of time before someone realized that if a reality show about a bunch of 20-somethings singing pop hits could make for a colossal hit, why not a scripted show about a bunch of 20-something high schoolers singing pop hits?
The Great Geeking Out is the other cultural trend that makes now the perfect time for Glee. Clearly, my own appellation for it makes it rather self-explanatory, but let's draw it out a bit, shall we? Over the past ten years or so, it's become cool to be a geek--it's been the rise of the outsider. Arguably, this started with the popularization of the internets, but it doesn't really matter where it started--what matters is where it is now. Now it's not uncommon to know people who openly and proudly admit being geeks: theater geeks, political geeks, music geeks, sci-fi geeks, comic book geeks. There's even the charming name "Gleeks" for Glee geeks. When I was in high school--let's just say things were different.
And that's the beauty of Glee--and the secret behind it's success. The format is stolen from AI and traditional musicals, but the spirit is outsider geek all the way. In fact, the show makes a point of showing us again and again how uncool and even reviled its protagonists are--and we identify with them. We are the geeks--we are the outsiders. And then, they sing--and we are them. We are talented and wonderful and brilliant and special--and we're happy.
P.S.--Not familiar with the music? Consider these:
Two outcasts share a dream
The girls and the boys do competing mash-ups
And the song that started it all
Tuesday, January 19, 2010
Sunday, January 3, 2010
I don't want to go...
I gotta start by saying that Russel T. Davies, Julie Gardner, David Tennant, and everyone else in Cardiff deserve a great deal of admiration and respect for the past 4 years of Doctor Who. Sure, I didn't love all of it, but I at least liked almost all of it and I did feel even more strongly about a good chunk of it. So, before any criticism creeps in, good job to them--and I wish them well. They did a great deal for a show that many of us love and turned it into an international phenomenon--again. Bravo.
Now, on to "The End of Time" itself...see what I did there? Funny! Anywho, on to the episodes, which I'm going to treat together. As a whole, the episodes were a nice, if self-indulgent, send-off to David Tennant and the RTD era of Who. Everything else was, at best, secondary--many of the plot felt even less important--they felt tertiary. The Master's return, Donna's subconscious starting to awaken, even Galifrey's return--they were all just so much sideshow. The real thrust of the story was the 10th Doctor's imminent regeneration, which, amusingly enough, came about almost totally removed from all the other plot devices--it almost felt like an odd retred of The Caves of Androzani in that respect. There was plenty of drama--mainly of the valedictory kind, but millions of tears were shed, and Tennant's last line must certainly be one of the most poignant in the show's history. The episodes wanted us to weep for David Tennant and for his Doctor--and in this, they were an almost unqualified success. Viewed by the standards by which I would judge any other episodes of Who, however, I think they were something of a failure. We had almost 2 hours and 15 minutes of Who over the course of two weeks, but, when compared against other large finales of the new era, there really wasn't much there there, as it were.
But here's where I come to the crux of my problem with "The End of Time"--viewed as a Who story, I really think it was kind of pants. However, viewed emotionally, it was almost perfection. The ever-wonderful Bernard Cribbins made Wilf an emotional centerpiece for the story without drawing too much attention to himself. It is often said (I think slightly incorrectly) that the companion is the audience's representative on screen--here, that was utterly true. Wilf's faith in the Doctor, his love for him, his fear of his death--these are the audience's feelings, and Cribbins made us feel them like we hardly have ever done before. Tennant, too, gave an amazing performance--his last as the Doctor (although, in a quirk of scheduling, not the last filmed).
And that is the entire point and only reason for "The End of Time"--it is to say goodbye to David Tennant and the 10th Doctor. I suspect that one's views on these episodes will hinge on the simple question: is this just another regeneration, or is it something special? For me, I can't quite decide yet. Maybe I never will--and until I do, I don't think I'll ever be able to decide how I feel about "The End of Time."
Now, on to "The End of Time" itself...see what I did there? Funny! Anywho, on to the episodes, which I'm going to treat together. As a whole, the episodes were a nice, if self-indulgent, send-off to David Tennant and the RTD era of Who. Everything else was, at best, secondary--many of the plot felt even less important--they felt tertiary. The Master's return, Donna's subconscious starting to awaken, even Galifrey's return--they were all just so much sideshow. The real thrust of the story was the 10th Doctor's imminent regeneration, which, amusingly enough, came about almost totally removed from all the other plot devices--it almost felt like an odd retred of The Caves of Androzani in that respect. There was plenty of drama--mainly of the valedictory kind, but millions of tears were shed, and Tennant's last line must certainly be one of the most poignant in the show's history. The episodes wanted us to weep for David Tennant and for his Doctor--and in this, they were an almost unqualified success. Viewed by the standards by which I would judge any other episodes of Who, however, I think they were something of a failure. We had almost 2 hours and 15 minutes of Who over the course of two weeks, but, when compared against other large finales of the new era, there really wasn't much there there, as it were.
But here's where I come to the crux of my problem with "The End of Time"--viewed as a Who story, I really think it was kind of pants. However, viewed emotionally, it was almost perfection. The ever-wonderful Bernard Cribbins made Wilf an emotional centerpiece for the story without drawing too much attention to himself. It is often said (I think slightly incorrectly) that the companion is the audience's representative on screen--here, that was utterly true. Wilf's faith in the Doctor, his love for him, his fear of his death--these are the audience's feelings, and Cribbins made us feel them like we hardly have ever done before. Tennant, too, gave an amazing performance--his last as the Doctor (although, in a quirk of scheduling, not the last filmed).
And that is the entire point and only reason for "The End of Time"--it is to say goodbye to David Tennant and the 10th Doctor. I suspect that one's views on these episodes will hinge on the simple question: is this just another regeneration, or is it something special? For me, I can't quite decide yet. Maybe I never will--and until I do, I don't think I'll ever be able to decide how I feel about "The End of Time."
Monday, December 7, 2009
The Other Baker Boy: The Sixth Doctor and His Times
General note for this entire series: this will, obviously, be a terribly subjective analysis. Firstly, because I'm me, and my ideas of good and bad will certainly vary differently from those of others. Secondly, because I will be basing my musings on an incomplete assemblage of sources. This includes all of the classic serials on DVD, but no others--I know, I know, but I'm fairly new to Who fandom, and I am not buying VHS tapes that won't even fit anywhere in a year or so. It also includes selected Big Finish audios, which are delightful on the whole. A parting note before I dive in to Doctor number 6: I love the new series, I love the old series, I love all the Doctors, and I love pretty much every companion, so, any criticism or picking which follows, comes from a place of love.
I have been stalling on writing this post for ages--months, literally. I adore Colin Baker's Doctor; I really do. But his era on the show...let's just say that it has some serious problems. For these, I blame quite a few folks, most notably the producer, John-Nathan Turner, and, more importantly, the script editor, Eric Saward. Saward's influence was starting to show itself strongly by Peter Davison's last season--the stories were darker, the violence more pervasive. Doctor Who has always had death--during Saward's tenure, however, violence came to be a way of being. In my opinion, Colin Baker and his Doctor suffered mightily because of it.
For almost his entire reign, THE Colin Baker was paired with Peri (Ha! paired with Peri...um, played by Nicola Bryant with an occasionally dodgy American accent), one of the lesser Doctor Who companions, I feel. She's generally written to be rather shrill and disagreeable which, paired with the 6th Doctor's pomposity and arrogance, makes the whole Doctor/companion pairing rather unpleasant at times. His time with Mel is so short as to almost be unable to judge; for my part, I actually prefer this pairing--to be fair, though, the Trial of a Time Lord season has much better dynamics between the Doctor and his companions troughout.
And so Colin Baker may never have had the chance truly to shine the 6th Doctor if it were not for the wonderful performance that he gives on the Big Finish audios. I've heard several of the 6th Doctor stories, and they range from rather good to quite delightful. It's still very much the 6th Doctor, but with more the feel of Trial than of The Twin Dilemma. Special notice must be payed to Maggie Stables as Evelyn Smythe, who is such a perfect foil for the 6th Doctor that it makes one wish that she had been his companion in the series.
It was a very interesting, and I think worthy, experiment to have a disagreeable Doctor who harkened back to the 1st Doctor in his rough edges and fussy demeanor. Unfortunately, though, the show has changed in the 21 years since it had debuted--the public no longer had an interest in a crotchety man--gruff was no longer suitable for the Doctor. It's a pity, really, especially as his characterization had toned down markedly by the time his tenure was abruptly ended. After just two full seasons and one episode, the Doctor was forcibly regenerated--but this time, it wasn't the Time Lords who forced the change; it was the BBC. I can't say I blame Colin for his decision not to come back and film a regeneration sequence, though I imagine that, if asked today about it, he might give a different answer. However, for the last time in the classic series, the time for a new Doctor had come and the show was preparing to enter what turned out to be its final flowering. But oh, what a flowering McCoy and his Doctor gave us.
As for recommendations, I say go for The Mark of the Rani, which I think is a lovely little story--and The Two Doctors which is much better than it has any business being, but I think a lot of that is down to Troughton's 2nd Doctor and the legendary Robert Holmes. The Trial season is very ambitious and occasionally quite good, but rather uneven and, I fear, mainly interesting as a curiosity. If you want to really experience how great the 6th Doctor can be, go for the audios. Sure they're not canon, but they're ripping stories. The One Doctor is a must-listen, and Doctor Who and the Pirates is one of the most gripping, interesting, profound, and moving stories I think Who has ever done in any format. Go listen to it. Now.
I have been stalling on writing this post for ages--months, literally. I adore Colin Baker's Doctor; I really do. But his era on the show...let's just say that it has some serious problems. For these, I blame quite a few folks, most notably the producer, John-Nathan Turner, and, more importantly, the script editor, Eric Saward. Saward's influence was starting to show itself strongly by Peter Davison's last season--the stories were darker, the violence more pervasive. Doctor Who has always had death--during Saward's tenure, however, violence came to be a way of being. In my opinion, Colin Baker and his Doctor suffered mightily because of it.
For almost his entire reign, THE Colin Baker was paired with Peri (Ha! paired with Peri...um, played by Nicola Bryant with an occasionally dodgy American accent), one of the lesser Doctor Who companions, I feel. She's generally written to be rather shrill and disagreeable which, paired with the 6th Doctor's pomposity and arrogance, makes the whole Doctor/companion pairing rather unpleasant at times. His time with Mel is so short as to almost be unable to judge; for my part, I actually prefer this pairing--to be fair, though, the Trial of a Time Lord season has much better dynamics between the Doctor and his companions troughout.
And so Colin Baker may never have had the chance truly to shine the 6th Doctor if it were not for the wonderful performance that he gives on the Big Finish audios. I've heard several of the 6th Doctor stories, and they range from rather good to quite delightful. It's still very much the 6th Doctor, but with more the feel of Trial than of The Twin Dilemma. Special notice must be payed to Maggie Stables as Evelyn Smythe, who is such a perfect foil for the 6th Doctor that it makes one wish that she had been his companion in the series.
It was a very interesting, and I think worthy, experiment to have a disagreeable Doctor who harkened back to the 1st Doctor in his rough edges and fussy demeanor. Unfortunately, though, the show has changed in the 21 years since it had debuted--the public no longer had an interest in a crotchety man--gruff was no longer suitable for the Doctor. It's a pity, really, especially as his characterization had toned down markedly by the time his tenure was abruptly ended. After just two full seasons and one episode, the Doctor was forcibly regenerated--but this time, it wasn't the Time Lords who forced the change; it was the BBC. I can't say I blame Colin for his decision not to come back and film a regeneration sequence, though I imagine that, if asked today about it, he might give a different answer. However, for the last time in the classic series, the time for a new Doctor had come and the show was preparing to enter what turned out to be its final flowering. But oh, what a flowering McCoy and his Doctor gave us.
As for recommendations, I say go for The Mark of the Rani, which I think is a lovely little story--and The Two Doctors which is much better than it has any business being, but I think a lot of that is down to Troughton's 2nd Doctor and the legendary Robert Holmes. The Trial season is very ambitious and occasionally quite good, but rather uneven and, I fear, mainly interesting as a curiosity. If you want to really experience how great the 6th Doctor can be, go for the audios. Sure they're not canon, but they're ripping stories. The One Doctor is a must-listen, and Doctor Who and the Pirates is one of the most gripping, interesting, profound, and moving stories I think Who has ever done in any format. Go listen to it. Now.
Saturday, November 21, 2009
An Attempt at a Theatrical Review
Thursday evening, I was fortunate enough to attend a work-sponsored trip to see Shakespeare's As You Like It. I'd studied the play in college, so I was more than passingly familiar, but, just to make sure, I reread the play Wednesday evening. Having heard that the production was going to emphasize the numerous songs and do a sort of "Old Hollywood" thing, I was really looking forward to it. Boy, were my hopes misplaced.
I can understand modern directors of Shakespeare and other classic playwrights wanting to modernize, update or otherwise interpret classic and well-known pieces. Generally speaking, a new twist, period, or setting can make a familiar or seemingly inaccessible classic fresh and alive to a modern audience. There has been a Hamlet set in a modern corporation, an Oedipus Rex set in an African tribe, and just about every classic ever set in Nazi Germany. Sometimes this production succeed brilliantly--they show us how alive and pertinent these classics are. Other times, they fail--not only do they not open the modern mind to familiar wisdom, the actually muddle and diminish the brilliance of the original work.
Unfortunately, the Washington, DC Shakespeare Theater's production of As You Like It falls squarely into this latter category. Directed by Maria Aitken, everything about this production--sets, costumes, performances--is wonderful, except for its overwrought conceits. I say "conceits," plural, because there are two main ones in this production. Like almost all great works of art, As You Like It has multiple themes at work--two of which are the value of liberty and the almost magical nature of the Forest of Arden. I won't profess to know why these two themes popped out most strongly to the director, but such decisions are difficult to understand from the outside, so I won't presume to question them.
The liberty theme was highlighted by transposing most of the action of the play to America; the magic theme, by using the making of a film version of the play as a sort of framing device. Neither of these techniques come off perfectly, and together, they simply muddy the waters. To my mind, the transference of much of the play to America was actually quite clever--in the end, the Hollywood trope serves as little more than an excuse to keep the curtain up as the stagehands shuffle through numerous sets. Even the American motif falls under its own weight, however, as the director decided to use almost every other scene as an excuse to jump forward in American history. I generally consider myself an intelligent man, but I cannot for the life of me determine what reason there was for such a device except to facilitate many set and costume changes and bring the final scene into the Golden Age of Hollywood. Maybe it's something about the ultimate expression of American freedom being classic 1930's Hollywood, finally pairing the two themes of the play? That might be an interesting suggestion, but it casts no light whatsoever on William Shakespeare's As You Like It.
I can understand modern directors of Shakespeare and other classic playwrights wanting to modernize, update or otherwise interpret classic and well-known pieces. Generally speaking, a new twist, period, or setting can make a familiar or seemingly inaccessible classic fresh and alive to a modern audience. There has been a Hamlet set in a modern corporation, an Oedipus Rex set in an African tribe, and just about every classic ever set in Nazi Germany. Sometimes this production succeed brilliantly--they show us how alive and pertinent these classics are. Other times, they fail--not only do they not open the modern mind to familiar wisdom, the actually muddle and diminish the brilliance of the original work.
Unfortunately, the Washington, DC Shakespeare Theater's production of As You Like It falls squarely into this latter category. Directed by Maria Aitken, everything about this production--sets, costumes, performances--is wonderful, except for its overwrought conceits. I say "conceits," plural, because there are two main ones in this production. Like almost all great works of art, As You Like It has multiple themes at work--two of which are the value of liberty and the almost magical nature of the Forest of Arden. I won't profess to know why these two themes popped out most strongly to the director, but such decisions are difficult to understand from the outside, so I won't presume to question them.
The liberty theme was highlighted by transposing most of the action of the play to America; the magic theme, by using the making of a film version of the play as a sort of framing device. Neither of these techniques come off perfectly, and together, they simply muddy the waters. To my mind, the transference of much of the play to America was actually quite clever--in the end, the Hollywood trope serves as little more than an excuse to keep the curtain up as the stagehands shuffle through numerous sets. Even the American motif falls under its own weight, however, as the director decided to use almost every other scene as an excuse to jump forward in American history. I generally consider myself an intelligent man, but I cannot for the life of me determine what reason there was for such a device except to facilitate many set and costume changes and bring the final scene into the Golden Age of Hollywood. Maybe it's something about the ultimate expression of American freedom being classic 1930's Hollywood, finally pairing the two themes of the play? That might be an interesting suggestion, but it casts no light whatsoever on William Shakespeare's As You Like It.
Monday, October 5, 2009
This Is a Really Stupid Post but I Just Need to Write Something
I don't think I have a favorite movie. Does anyone really? There are plenty of movies that I simply adore--that I think are perfect in every way, but I can't imagine choosing a favorite. How do you compare Airplane and A Streetcar Named Desire? When I was growing up, I watched two movies obsessively: Amadeus and Clue. Both of them influenced me tremendously--one is total silliness, and one is absolute genius; but I could never say that one was my favorite. So, without further ado, here are 7 movies that I love. Why 7? Because I feel like it and it's my damn blog.
1) The Hours--I adore this film, even though, or perhaps because, it's more depressing than a puppy's funeral. Beautiful performances, an intricate story structure, and a serious, well-explored theme makes for a stunning film.
2) Scrooge (1951)--Alistair Simm provides the definitive performance of Charles Dickens' great Yuletide hero. As a Christmas fanatic, this movie is an annual ritual and never fails to make me cry like the little boy I really am.
3) Bringing Up Baby--Cary Grant. Katherine Hepburn. A lost leopard. An escaped killer leopard. Hi-jinks ensue. I quote this movie constantly.
4) Night of the Living Dead--Claustrophobic setting with wave after wave of the undead. The archetypal zombie movie--and still creepy as hell 40 years later.
5) Persuasion--If you haven't seen this gorgeous take on Austen's autumnal romance, do it right now. Seriously.
6) Beautiful Thing--Young gay British teenagers find love under the watchful eye of a proud lioness of a mother. Lovely.
7) Waiting for Guffman--The funniest of the Christopher Guest mockumentaries. I'm sure you're seen it--awesome right?
What do these movies have in common, aside from a general high standard of quality? Absolutely nothing. Isn't that brilliant?
1) The Hours--I adore this film, even though, or perhaps because, it's more depressing than a puppy's funeral. Beautiful performances, an intricate story structure, and a serious, well-explored theme makes for a stunning film.
2) Scrooge (1951)--Alistair Simm provides the definitive performance of Charles Dickens' great Yuletide hero. As a Christmas fanatic, this movie is an annual ritual and never fails to make me cry like the little boy I really am.
3) Bringing Up Baby--Cary Grant. Katherine Hepburn. A lost leopard. An escaped killer leopard. Hi-jinks ensue. I quote this movie constantly.
4) Night of the Living Dead--Claustrophobic setting with wave after wave of the undead. The archetypal zombie movie--and still creepy as hell 40 years later.
5) Persuasion--If you haven't seen this gorgeous take on Austen's autumnal romance, do it right now. Seriously.
6) Beautiful Thing--Young gay British teenagers find love under the watchful eye of a proud lioness of a mother. Lovely.
7) Waiting for Guffman--The funniest of the Christopher Guest mockumentaries. I'm sure you're seen it--awesome right?
What do these movies have in common, aside from a general high standard of quality? Absolutely nothing. Isn't that brilliant?
Monday, September 14, 2009
A Round, Pleasant, Open Face: The Fifth Doctor's Times
General note for this entire series: this will, obviously, be a terribly subjective analysis. Firstly, because I'm me, and my ideas of good and bad will certainly vary differently from those of others. Secondly, because I will be basing my musings on an incomplete assemblage of sources. This includes all of the classic serials on DVD, but no others--I know, I know, but I'm fairly new to Who fandom, and I am not buying VHS tapes that won't even fit anywhere in a year or so. It also includes selected Big Finish audios, which are delightful on the whole. A parting note before I dive in to Doctor number 5: I love the new series, I love the old series, I love all the Doctors, and I love pretty much every companion, so, any criticism or picking which follows, comes from a place of love.
The TARDIS may essentially be endless, but that's no excuse for having far too many companions. This is in no way Peter Davison's fault, and he's repeatedly expressed his own frustrations about the surplus of people milling about the place, but that can't change the fact that there are simply too many companions, and that affects how we think about the Fifth Doctor. To my mind, I would say that the Fifth Doctor is almost more the head of a roving gang than a restless time traveler.
So, before I say my bit about the Doctor, let's talk about the companions. The Fifth Doctor starts his run literally surrounded by three companions, all of whom were fairly new: Adric (Matthew Waterhouse) who joined the 4th Doctor and Romana II in Full Circle, Nyssa (Sarah Sutton) who we first met in The Keeper of Traken, and Tegan Jovanka who wandered into the TARDIS in Logopolis. Adric, the annoying boy genius met an untimely but not necessarily unwelcome end in Earthshock. In the very next story, the Doctor leaves behind Tegan, the mouthy Australian air hostess, but she's back in the story following.
The Doctor thus briefly had only one companion--Nyssa, the orphaned royal/scientific genius. (Incidentally, Nyssa was to have died much earlier, but she was Davison's favorite, so she was kept on until Terminus.) While Davison always envisioned himself and Nyssa as the right pairing for his Doctor, he wouldn't have only one companion again until Planet of Fire--at which point his companion would be the odd and mysterious alien schoolboy Vislor Turlough (Mark Strickson). His last companion was the pseudo-American botany student Perpugilliam Brown (Nicola Bryant). In three seasons, the Fifth Doctor had five companions, and only in his final serial was he left alone with only one companion.
This is not to say that Peter Davison gets lost amongst all those companions. In fact, it's a credit to the strength of Davison's abilities that the Fifth Doctor becomes such a vivid character. At the same time, though, he's not a terribly dynamic or active character. For me, the Fifth Doctor always remains something of a pleasant chap who gets caught up and overwhelmed by events more frequently than he either takes command of them or orchestrates them. It doesn't help matters that several of his companions have such strong personalities--in fact, to quote Janet Fielding, they had personalities, but no characters. Still, the Fifth Doctor manifests himself as the quiet force at the center of the storm--he was the rock upon which waves of chaos crashed.
Sometimes, though, the waves won. Earthshock and Warriors of the Deep have unarguably tragic endings, and several other stories, notably Resurrection of the Daleks and Caves of Androzani, have strong undercurrent of darkness. More than any other Doctor, the Fifth Doctor was a human Doctor who went through most (though not all) of the human emotions; as a result, he felt these losses, for they were losses. They were not shrugged off and they were not forgotten. It is these human emotions that make him a favorite of many fans and which, in the end, leads to his decision to sacrifice his own life for that of his companion.
Recommendations? Well, to be honest, this is rather tricky because, as much as I like the Fifth Doctor, I don't love a lot of his stories, but I highly recommend any story that has a commentary with Davison and Fielding. In fact, the worse the story is, the more entertaining it is to watch with the commentary--Time Flight and Black Orchid are personal favorites for laugh out loud viewing. For actual quality, I'd go with Castrovalva and Caves of Androzani, the recently named best serial ever--an opinion I disagree with, but, whatever.
The TARDIS may essentially be endless, but that's no excuse for having far too many companions. This is in no way Peter Davison's fault, and he's repeatedly expressed his own frustrations about the surplus of people milling about the place, but that can't change the fact that there are simply too many companions, and that affects how we think about the Fifth Doctor. To my mind, I would say that the Fifth Doctor is almost more the head of a roving gang than a restless time traveler.
So, before I say my bit about the Doctor, let's talk about the companions. The Fifth Doctor starts his run literally surrounded by three companions, all of whom were fairly new: Adric (Matthew Waterhouse) who joined the 4th Doctor and Romana II in Full Circle, Nyssa (Sarah Sutton) who we first met in The Keeper of Traken, and Tegan Jovanka who wandered into the TARDIS in Logopolis. Adric, the annoying boy genius met an untimely but not necessarily unwelcome end in Earthshock. In the very next story, the Doctor leaves behind Tegan, the mouthy Australian air hostess, but she's back in the story following.
The Doctor thus briefly had only one companion--Nyssa, the orphaned royal/scientific genius. (Incidentally, Nyssa was to have died much earlier, but she was Davison's favorite, so she was kept on until Terminus.) While Davison always envisioned himself and Nyssa as the right pairing for his Doctor, he wouldn't have only one companion again until Planet of Fire--at which point his companion would be the odd and mysterious alien schoolboy Vislor Turlough (Mark Strickson). His last companion was the pseudo-American botany student Perpugilliam Brown (Nicola Bryant). In three seasons, the Fifth Doctor had five companions, and only in his final serial was he left alone with only one companion.
This is not to say that Peter Davison gets lost amongst all those companions. In fact, it's a credit to the strength of Davison's abilities that the Fifth Doctor becomes such a vivid character. At the same time, though, he's not a terribly dynamic or active character. For me, the Fifth Doctor always remains something of a pleasant chap who gets caught up and overwhelmed by events more frequently than he either takes command of them or orchestrates them. It doesn't help matters that several of his companions have such strong personalities--in fact, to quote Janet Fielding, they had personalities, but no characters. Still, the Fifth Doctor manifests himself as the quiet force at the center of the storm--he was the rock upon which waves of chaos crashed.
Sometimes, though, the waves won. Earthshock and Warriors of the Deep have unarguably tragic endings, and several other stories, notably Resurrection of the Daleks and Caves of Androzani, have strong undercurrent of darkness. More than any other Doctor, the Fifth Doctor was a human Doctor who went through most (though not all) of the human emotions; as a result, he felt these losses, for they were losses. They were not shrugged off and they were not forgotten. It is these human emotions that make him a favorite of many fans and which, in the end, leads to his decision to sacrifice his own life for that of his companion.
Recommendations? Well, to be honest, this is rather tricky because, as much as I like the Fifth Doctor, I don't love a lot of his stories, but I highly recommend any story that has a commentary with Davison and Fielding. In fact, the worse the story is, the more entertaining it is to watch with the commentary--Time Flight and Black Orchid are personal favorites for laugh out loud viewing. For actual quality, I'd go with Castrovalva and Caves of Androzani, the recently named best serial ever--an opinion I disagree with, but, whatever.
Oops...forgot to add these
My recommendations for the 4th Doctor's era, in order of broadcast:
Robot (rather fun and Baker gets of to a flying start)
The Ark in Space (a brilliant first episode and great supporting performances)
Genesis of the Daleks (the best of the Baker era, I think)
Pyramids of Mars (not my personal favorite, but it has some great stuff and is a milestone)
The Hand of Fear (Liz Sladen says goodbye, and she does it in style)
The Robots of Death (one of the other contenders for best in era)
The Talons of Weng-Chiang (again, a real winner, though with an awful giant rat)
City of Death (the funniest Who ever, hands down)
Logopolis (a ho-hum story, perhaps, but you gotta watch Tom's farewell)
Robot (rather fun and Baker gets of to a flying start)
The Ark in Space (a brilliant first episode and great supporting performances)
Genesis of the Daleks (the best of the Baker era, I think)
Pyramids of Mars (not my personal favorite, but it has some great stuff and is a milestone)
The Hand of Fear (Liz Sladen says goodbye, and she does it in style)
The Robots of Death (one of the other contenders for best in era)
The Talons of Weng-Chiang (again, a real winner, though with an awful giant rat)
City of Death (the funniest Who ever, hands down)
Logopolis (a ho-hum story, perhaps, but you gotta watch Tom's farewell)
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