A Tennant Family Christmas

Proving that Brits are as fickle with their affections as always, one of the most popular men on television is under attack this week. His crime? Being on telly too much.


David Tennant, the charming and talented star of Doctor Who, has popped up on the BBC over 75 times in the last few weeks - and the tabloids are getting their knickers in a twist about it.

The Shropshire Star wrote an amusing article satirically claiming that the BBC had made a formal apology after failing to mention David Tennant or Doctor Who for a complete hour.

BBC executives today apologised after a mistake meant there was no mention of the actor David Tennant on radio and television for at least an hour. Full
story here.

Conservative MP Nigel Evans proved that whatever the issue, there's always a Tory MP to wheel out and complain about it, by hissing:

“'Even the most dedicated fan might have thought that the BBC was turning into the David Tennant Corporation." Full story here.

But personally, I'm delighted. Admittedly, living in America I don't actually have to watch BBC, but I like David Tennant and I can't blame the Beeb for flaunting one of their strongest assets.

Besides, he's leaving Doctor Who on New Year's Day, so even if you've reached your David Tennant Saturation Point, you won't have to put up with it for long.

Speaking of which, did anybody see Doctor Who: The End of Time on Christmas Day? I was able to find it on YouTube - and thought it was rubbish.

Russell T. Davies, as I've written about incessantly, is a magnificent producer - but a lousy writer. As Torchwood proved, scripts by Davies are gloomy, morose, overly obsessed with the pointless death of characters and shoehorned full of Welshness, gayness or political punditry.

Not that I have anything against the Welsh (lived there for three years) the gays (I write for Out Front Colorado) or political punditry - but Davies crams it into the script so clumsily that it seems awkward, strained and distracting.

And The End of Time? What the hell was all that rubbish about? The Doctor blubbing in a cafe? The green, spiky aliens (Who lived up to its low-budget heritage with that one) and an utterly preposterous plot which saw The Master turn every human on the planet into a carbon copy of... himself?

Crikey, I could have written a better send off for David Tennant myself (only I don't 'do' fanfiction - not because I'm a snob, but because it doesn't pay.)

Anyway. I think the BBC owes it to David Tennant to give him as much airtime as he wants. After all, they've got to make up for the awful shambles that was The End of Time somehow.