Hee. Hee hee hee.

John Simm. Doctor Who. Hee hee hee.

Way back, when the return of Doctor Who was a mysterious enigma (would it be any good? would it be on Saturdays? would Paul McGann count?), I was asked who might be the Doctor. Naturally, having already taken a look at the potentials, I said "Bill Nighy or Christopher Eccleston...or John Simm."*

I had to rewind Saturday's episode and watch it over and over again just because it makes me giggle like a schoolgirl. I already knew he was in it, and who he was liklely to be, but still...

Simm isn't an actor I go all girly about because he's pretty: it's that he convinces me. Whether he is a Russian murderer, a journalist betraying a friend for a scoop, a time-travelling copper or the Doctor's nemesis. You imagine his characters fighting like cornered terriers, doggedly determined to keep going against any odds. This is what makes the idea of him as the Master - the charming nutter, the schemer let down by his irrationalities and paranoia - so filled with potential. Somewhere on my C drive is a short story started for a fanthology which has long since vanished (made redundant when the BBC announced their Spring 2005 season), which casts Simm as a steampunk Doctor. Hee hee hee.

PS: For anyone wondering, I've been at a wedding and working away but have now restored Lost Luggage to working order.

Labels: doctor who