Book(s)/Other Related -
Doctor Who: Broadway Musical of the Dustbins
Mr Squidhead Dustbin Man Goes To Cardiff For The Manhole Invasion!
Cunts of Fargo – Dustbin Raph’s Tell-All Autobiography
Fluffs - David Tennant seemed to be in a state of Great Depression for most of this story.
"ANOTHER FUCKING BIPED GIVING US ORDERS! WHOOP-DE-DOO! HAIL TO THE KING, BABY!" booms Dustbin Raphael when he meets Lavros in the final scene.
How does Djalili fit inside Dustbin Leo’s casing? He’s far too fat to share a lift with most people! Are Dustbins bigger on the inside? Or did he crap himself at the last second and lose an amazing amount of weight?
Due to a tragic accident in the editing suite, several seconds of "Ashes to Ashes" were mingled in with the pre-title sequence, which is why Tellulah is fleeing Barry the Evil White Clown of Death as he screams "WE ARE WAITING FOR YOU ALEX!!!!" at passing showgirls.
In reality, the Statue of Liberty is a lot further away from Wales than it looks onscreen. Also the Statue had a gold flame in 1988, not the CGI animation here. Mind you, compared to the Statue of Liberty being in fucking CARDIFF, details like that start to pale into insignificance.
The Doctor says that Black Monday occurred about "a week ago" despite the stockbrokers being destitute for over a year. Were they able to predict their own downfall? If so, why didn’t they do a damn thing about it? Is it some wibbly-wobbly timey-wimey thing? Or was the Doctor just talking bollocks?
The Dustbins say that their casing is made of Dustbinanium. However, that was a word made up by humans in The Dustbin Invasion of Earth. The correct word is bonded-polycarbide and the idea that outer space robot people might have a different word for it is, frankly, ridiculous!
If the Weevils only survive for a long weekend, then why don't the Dustbins use something more durable, like Dustmen? Oh, no doubt you say that 1988 Cardiff lacks sufficiently advanced electronics capable of creating such zombie drones – but I note it can provide equipment capable of genetic experimentation, though, can’t it? Why not just brainwash the humans instead of fusing them with pigs? Surely they’ve mastered the art of pig fusion by now?! Does Dustbin Don just have some kind of kinky porcine bondage fetish?
The sewers don’t look very much like sewers. For a start, there’s no sewage. Then there are lots and lots of gratings, which would release a sewage smell into the street. The sunlight passing through a two-foot-wide grille casts a six-foot-wide shadow on the floor, when the parallel rays from the sun should cast a shadow the same size as the grille above. Also, at that time of year the sunlight wouldn’t be coming in vertically. Angles aside, why is there sunlight coming through the manholes into the sewers at NIGHT? In addition, there are FAR too many junctions and 90 degree bends. Even if they are storm drains instead of sewers, they don’t fit! What? Don’t look at me like that...
Come to think of it, why is there a manhole into the sewer/storm drains INSIDE the theatre? Why does the Doctor use his sonic screwdriver on the manhole cover? It’s not as if they are usually locked into place, is it?
Some might say the reference to Fargo being destroyed is a goof as it flat out contradicts Orange Peel’s BBC Book "Warts & All of the Dustbins" (aka "Why Ben Aaaronovitch Is Such A Tosser"), but I do not think of this is a goof and, frankly, fuck "Warts & All of the Dustbins"! Fuck its family! Fuck its author! And fuck everyone who ever read it or even MENTIONED it! In PASSING! On the INTERNET! If you want a biased and judgmental opinion, you’ve come to the wrong place. These guides are completely impartial. The book really IS that bad.
Fashion Victims -
As Tallulah says, "Let ME be the architect honey. This cleavage takes work!"
And you thought I’d mention Leo in his pinstripe hood and willy-sideburns, didn’t you? Hah!
There’s no point in chromosomal grafting, it’s too erratic and you need to "split the genome and force the new Dustbin human sequence right into the cortex". This makes sense to Helen Raynor if no one else.
Dialogue Disasters -
Leo: I am frightful, am I not? I am power. I am glory. I am Supreme Dustbin Leonardo! I am the Ruler of the Dustbins and a lesson to all who shame the glory of the Dustbin Empire by having two legs!
Doctor: So, Martha Jones, that’s your lot. As promised. One trip to the past, one trip to the future and now we’re heading home. I can drop you off just minutes after we left, right where your revolting family are waiting for you... but that seems mean. Is that who I am now? Mean and not ginger?
Martha: And what about you?
Doctor: Mmm. I dunno. What about me?
Martha: Once I’ve gone. What happens to you? You just travel on your own, wallowing in self-pity for Rose Tyler breaking both your hearts?
Doctor: Same as ever. Sulking about, wherever the Time Winds take me. Perfect life, Martha. No limits, no ties, no responsibilities, plenty of angst for shipper fics...
Martha: No one to keep you company in bed when the lights go out?
Doctor: Well. Yeah.
Martha: And that’s "perfect"?
Martha: You know, since you’ve got all the time in the world maybe we could, I dunno, take a detour? Not an actual trip, as such. Just. You know...
Doctor: The long way home?
Martha: That it! The long way home!
Doctor: The scenic route!
Martha: The B-roads!
Doctor: Oh, all right. You get one detour. Just ONE!
Martha: And maybe during we can stop off at a cheap hotel, get the honeymoon suite, sign in under false names...
Doctor: What? AGAIN?
Martha: This time there’d be sex.
Doctor: Oh. You mean, pick up some hookers first? Sure!
Dustbin Mike: GENETIC ENGINEERING CAN CREATE THE PERFECT RACE! COULD CREATE AN UNKNOWN LIFE-FORCE THAT COULD US EXTERMINATE! HAY!
Martha: I’ve heard stuff about sewers – like, they’re full of alligators that people used to flush down the toilet to try and be all cool and American. That’s not true is it?
Doctor: Of course not. The Welsh are never cool.
Martha: I mean the alligators.
Martha: They couldn’t survive down here though, could they? What would they eat?
Doctor: Apart from the rats. Plenty of them down here. Alligators could live off them for years.
Martha: ...I really wonder what I see in you sometimes.
Solomon: When you saw those Weevil things down there, I thought I’d walked into another world. But you took it in your stride.
Doctor: Well, I watched Touchwood, didn’t I? But those things have walked into YOUR world, Solomon. They shouldn’t be here, in Cardiff, in 1987. But if I can do one thing, then I can walk them right back out again...
Solomon: Hang on. YOU watched Touchwood?
Doctor: Mainly out of duty. Partially for all the sex and violence, but mainly out of duty.
Solomon: Touchwood’s crap.
Doctor: Yeah. Immensely. Still, it’s not canon. What more can you do?
Dialogue Triumphs -
Doctor: Martha, you should really stay behind. The Dustbins, they’re dangerous. They don’t even COMPARE to everything else that we’ve come across. The worst things you’ve seen? THEY fear the Dustbins, they tell stories about them to frighten their children. D’ya see?
Martha: Um, I know all about Dustbins, Doctor.
Doctor: ...do you?
Martha: Yeah. Them and the Cybermen, they smashed up Cardiff?
Doctor: So they did. Jings, it’s odd not having to start from scratch.
Dustbin Mike: I DUNNO, DUDES, SOUNDS LIKE IT’S MORE INTELLIGENT DESIGN THAN EVOLUTION, YOU GET MY DRIFT?
Solomon: Dustbins, from what the Doctor says, you’re without a home, without friends, without a future. Just like the formally-upwardly-mobile futures traders you see here. Why can’t we all be friends? Ain’t we the same? Ain’t we all kin? Let’s stop all this a-cussin’ and a-cursin’ and a-fuedin’ and let’s all be buddies! C’mon, give us a hug! What d’ya think? What d’ya say?
Dustbin Raph: I SAY... WASTE EM.
Doctor: Do you know... how sad it is to be a man alone? I feel so... solitary even in my home. Without Rose... Don’t know why she chose to leave me on my own.
Martha: But Doctor...
Doctor: I can see... my life is meant to fall apart someday; just to be... a simple man who’s sadly lost his way. I got no girl, and I got no world and I got no words left to say!
Martha: I can make you happy like you’ve never known before! Have you ever known a heart who needed you more?
Doctor:...probably. Why do you ask?
Doctor: Oh. I’m sorry about this, Dustbin Leo. But how many worlds have suffered like you? How many victims? How many millions wept in front of the Dustbins and were shown no mercy because they left hair on the soap? Just like YOU now? Of course the whole leather dominatrix thing IS different, I admit, but it doesn’t change the basic argument.
Leo: Dude. I get the freaking message. Shut the fuck up already.
Dustbin Raph: I AM VICTORIOUS!
Doctor: Wouldn’t that imply that you actually WON? Because I don’t see anyone handing out medals...
Dustbin Raph: STAY WHERE YOU ARE!
Doctor: You forgot the magic word...
Dustbin Raph: NOW!!!
Doctor: Give up, Raph, it’s over.
Dustbin Raph: IT AIN’T OVER UNTIL IT’S OVER!
Doctor: Yeah. Jings. I just said that! You’ve lost! Give up!
Dustbin Raph: I NEVER GIVE UP!
Doctor: Look, how about I drop you off on some uninhabited garbage world? You can live out your life in peace, tidying everything up and knowing it will stay clean. You don’t just get to survive, you get to live!
Dustbin Raph: YOU’VE GOT TO BE FUCKING KIDDING ME.
Doctor: Don’t see anyone giving you a better offer. Or medals.
Dustbin Raph: I AM A DUSTBIN! I LIVE TO CLEAN AND TIDY! I WILL NOT LIVE IN A WORLD ALONE WHILE THE REST OF THE COSMOS DROWNS IN ITS OWN FILTH!
Doctor: That’s your trouble, Dustbin. Not xenophobia, or obsessive compulsion, or the lack of naughty bits. It’s just you...
Dustbin Raph: SCREW YOU, DOCTOR! EMERGENCY TEMPORAL SHIFT!
Doctor: But your energy cells’ power levels are too low!
Dustbin Raph: HAH! I RECHARGED THEM! YOU’RE NOT THE ONLY ONE WHO USES PANASONIC BATTERIES, BUSTER! SAYONARA YOU SCOTTISH FREAK!
(Dustbin Raph vanishes)
Doctor: He was the last of them - the last Dustbin. His race killed thousands, decimated hundreds of planets including my own and at the very LEAST he coulda let me finish my sentence! He didn’t need to bugger off like that while I was trying to make a philosophical statement! Well, you know my new statement on Dustbin mindsets? YOU’RE ALL RETARDED AND DESERVE TO DIE! Screw political correctness...
UnQuotable Quote -
Doctor: You say you want evolution? Well, you know, we all wanna change the world! But when you talk about destruction, don’t you know you can count me out? Don’t you know it’s gonna be alright?!
Links and References -
The Cult of Fargo bemoan the fact that versions of Cardiff exist throughout history and they always seem to spend their time in their respective sewer works. Dustbin Don still smells from the trip to New New Cardiff on Earth 2.0.
Untelevised Misadventures -
The origin of the bipedal Lavros is discussed at length in the Touchwood episode "From Out of the Blue" released early in 2008, so for over a whole year fandom stared in awe assuming RTD had gone insane and forgotten Lavros was kinda noted for being a hideous mutant in a CyberLoo and reinvented him as a molester-y circus ringmaster for NO REASON OF ANY KIND WHATSOEVER.
Groovy DVD Extras –
A 40-minute rant by Mad Larry the Pirate King about Dustbin Leo Voice Changer Masks prove that not only is Doctor Who more popular than ever, but marks the point where tie-in merchandizing possessed a cultural identity all of its own instead of just being stuff to shut kids up momentarily at Christmas. And, um, this is bad. For some reason. Mad Larry concludes the rant by saying the Dustbin Leo Voice Changer Masks’ popularity proves that no one CARES what nerds think, and then mercifully vanishes in a puff of logic.
The Spite of Sparacus -
"Although this was much more like proper Doctor Who than that Shakespeare shite, what with the pro-Bush propaganda with the Dusbtins as metaphor for Al-Quaeda, I was expecting a really scary and unnerving Dustbin-Human creature. What we got was pathetic! He should have had an alien sounding voice, a bit like Lavros! And he had an American fucking accent! At least those those penis things waving about each side his head turned me on... And why didn’t the Dustbins just exterminate the Doctor? I counted at least three chances and they just kept letting him off the hook. It strikes me the series might benefit from having some entity far more advanced and intelligent than the Doctor popping in from time to time to lend a hand or cause mischief, like Q in Star Trek TNG, who in my view is one of the finest, fascinating, intriguing and entertaining characters in sci-fi – apart from Picard. If you compare Picard’s characterization with that of the 10th Doctor, the latter’s inferiority is evident! Stewart plays it straight whereas Tennant goes over the top with silliness. Picard is a adult, whereas the 10th Doctor a teenage youth whose female companion does all the work. Picard has cultivated, intelligent tastes. A 900 year old Timelord should be more like Picard than a youth who goes around singing Ghostbusters and over-enthusing about jokey things. Fun is immature. Fuck off. Oh, and Frank is a better companion than Martha!"
Viewer Quotes -
"Half-man. Half-Dustbin. Total asshole! Doctor Who Jumps The Shark On Saturday, 7:30, BBC1!"
- Radio Times (April 2007)
"I can’t believe what just happened. Three brave Dustbins lost their lives for the greater good and that hypocritical heathen RTD expects us to think of this as a happy ending?! Doesn’t he realize that Dustbins are supernatural beings capable of breaking all the laws of the universe thanks to shithouse script editing! You can’t defeat Dustbins by hating them and fighting them, you have to be all nice and stuff. Like Solomon. Before the Dustbins killed him in cold blood. But he’ll get to go to heaven and be happy for ever, not like the rest of you scum I have to put up with every day!
'I don’t have opinions. I have subtext.'"
- Alan Stephens, Outpost Gallifrey Forum (2007)
"Oh bums! It was all going so well, and then we’re hit with terrible acting, pedestrian plotting and, basically, not half as good as something by Mark Gatiss. All my friends texted me to how unimpressed they were and how they couldn’t wait for this shit to end so we can get on with the REAL stuff with Mark Gatiss! THIS IS A CRIME, HELEN RAYNOR! IF I EVER MEET YOU DOWN A DARK ALLEY, YOU’RE DEAD, YOU HONKEY BITCH! YOU HEAR ME?!? YOU ARE DEAD! DEAD-DEAD-DEAD!!!"
- that fan review RTD was talking about in "The Welshman’s Tale" oddly enough in the Outpost Gallifrey 'Helen Raynor Appreciation Thread'
"Introspective, pointless, soulless bleating, what was all that about? Nothing sums things up better than this drivel. The Doctor is shown to feel the Dustbins are getting to him, all part of giving the series a relevant, emotional backdrop, of making it real for a modern audience. My scorn meter is climbing to new heights this year. The scripts are becoming ever more throwaway, ever more predictable and ever more uninteresting. On top of this we have the fact that Tennant’s chin runs out too quickly below his bottom lip, annoying my partner who keeps throwing slippers at the telly. More backbone, more chin. Now." - Clive James (2007)
"If this story featured the Ugwats or the Thretatrant or the Silliandstupids, I don’t think I’d have such a problem. This is the first story in which the Dustbins are rubbish, really really rubbish. They even LOOK rubbish. Which is really rather ironic when you think about it. Ultimately I was rather nonplussed." - Mike Morris (2008)
"This story was an abomination! Doesn’t anyone realize that when the Ninth Doctor surrendered to the Dustbins and asked them to kill him, it would have redeemed the entire Dustbin race but then that ovary-possessing harlot Rose had to turn up and kill everyone! You think Christianity would have got anywhere at all had God arrived and exterminated the Romans before they could crucify Jesus?! WHY DOES NO ONE AGREE WITH ME?!
'You cannot prove me wrong, because you are under the control of Barbie. Chris Butcher told me and you can’t prove him wrong, shithead!'"
- Alan Stephens, Outpost Gallifrey Forum (2007)
"She’s thick and annoying. She mumbles in an almost inhuman guttural dialect, her acting is WAY over the top, her accent a farce enough to drive you to drink, her bug-eyes are nothing short of clown-like as she injects annoying amateurishness of unrealistic Betty Boop impressions. So, yeah, I reckon I could pull Tallulah."
- Nigel Verkoff (2007)
"The Necronomicon’s predictions of Dustbin Leo look good to me. Good in a creepy, icky way. Good scary. Innsmouth good, Cthuloid good. Ia! Ia! Yog Squeethoth, in fact." - H.P. Lovecraft (1938)
"I have brain damage and I can pee scripts better than Helen Raynor’s while sleeping, anytime. I could write circles around her. If the cow can’t stand the criticism, she shouldn’t put her work in the public domain. Or alternatively, she could actually do a decent job in he fist place! Sadly Helen didn’t do that!" - Britney Spears (2009)
"Amid the turgid script that would make Eastenders look like Bertolt Brecht is a long and drawn out mélange of Doctor Who folklore detritus with "pick of the best" from the classic series. The production of this mess is a mistake that is equal to allowing General Montgomery to mastermind the ill-fated World War II offensive, Operation Market Garden." – eyeofsaurus.com keep things in perspective (2007)
"Choreographed with style and glamour, this was a superb episode and not at all what we are used to with NuWho. I really like musical theatre." - Joe Forde Prefecte (2009)
"Whenever I think of this story my thoughts are marred by the trauma caused by my cellmates bludgeoning me over the head every time I complain how derivative it was, stealing concepts from Obsessive Compulsive Order of the Dustbins and Rhododendron of the Dustbins with such fake American accents! I refuse to waste my pixels on this trash which should be served better by showing the Sixth Doctor and Mel fighting giant snails in Exodus, my legacy to the world of fan fiction! If only anyone actually LIKED it..." - Ron Mallet (2009)
"David Tennant was appalling in this story! Christopher Eccleston was a far better Doctor – check out that bit where he’s faced Lavros II and as he hears the Dustbins singing Eccleston presses his head against the Tardis doors in complete dispair? That far outclasses a few blubby tears shed over that annoying, spoilt bint Rose. Who most of us were glad to see the back of anyway – and anyone who wasn’t is a shallow cunt!
'Ignorant fucktards like RTD say the darnedest things when they disagree with my godlike genius.'"
- Alan Stephens, Outpost Gallifrey Forum (2007)
"Shame! Disgrace! Outrage! BAN THIS FILTH! Did anyone else think that pirate at the theatre looked just like Patrick Troughton? The prosthetics of Leo’s animated head could ONLY have been improved by sticking Nigel Kneale’s hand in a rubber glove and waggling it about! Oh, my brain’s IMPLODING!" - Orange Peel himself (2007)
"You could almost believe you were watching the third big-screen Dustbin movie, with David Tennant replacing Peter Cushing! Or, possibly, Bernard Cribbins!" - Mad Larry the Pirate King (2007)
"What’s this shit about 'personal insults and against the Code of Conduct'? Well, Mr. Moderator, you have to PROVE to me that those diseased tools who like Rose Tyler and voted for Billie Piper at the NTAs are NOT shallow, and you MIGHT have a case! 'Not a topic for debate'? EVERYTHING is a topic for debate! And I ALWAYS WIN! Your opinions are INFERIOR!! Oh, my 'behavior is not acceptable', is it? Well, what are YOU gonna do about it, Shaun? Ban me from the forum? Try it bitch! The Elder Gods will protect me from your so-called 'moderation' and 'forum rules'!! I AM IMMORTAL!!
'I am right. You are wrong. Get used to it.'"
- Alan Stephens, Outpost Gallifrey Forum (2007 – last ever post)
David Tennant Speaks!
"When you think about it, this story is more about Cybermen than Dustbins. They remove emotions to make you stronger, they convert humans to their own ranks, they hang around Cardiff sewers, they have a passion for musical theatre... In this story there was no thematic depth, no believable characters, and a paper thin plot. So in all important respect this IS a big-budget version of Obsessive Compulsive Disorder of the Dustbins! Though I remember, originally, the Dustbins had different sci-fi names rather than Ninja Turtle ones. There was Thay-Caan, Jaast, Sec and Mai-Balz. But apparently people were worried that if I was to name them it would sound like an invitation to do something rude (and not ginger) to my genitals. Jings. Damn that Gay Agenda. DAMN IT!"
Freema Agyeman Speaks!
"Martha is a more controlled, less hormonal chav than Rose was. Mind you, Rose was unique in the fact she was Billie Piper. No wonder the Doctor fell in love with her. And David. And the public. Hell, I fancy her too most of the time. If only she’d just wake up and realize I’d make her much happier than that dork she married... still, Martha’s not an idiot and she can see that the Doctor is a broken man, emotionally vulnerable and that she doesn’t HAVE to go in guns blazing to rip those question mark underpants off and taste the salty goodness. At first. So she tries offering him some consolation, then sometimes just very slowly eats a banana trying to excite him, other times wanders around stark naked screaming "DO IT TO ME, YOU HORNY LORD OF TIME!" and, well, we’ve all been there, haven’t we? Right? That’s not just me? Hello?"
Russell T Davies Speaks!
"It’s nice to see the old, scheming Dustbins back instead of the new clean-anything-in-its-path route they’ve gone down! And their return to being menacing, scheming creatures is reflected in the way their plan is clearly ripped off a 1966 classic story that doesn’t actually exist any more, and just LOOKS like it’s completely composed of B-movie cliches!"
Steven Moffat Speaks!
"I think self-consciousness cleverness is a perfectly fair accusation to level at me – I’m aware of it as a failing, but I can’t seem to fix it. I’m always worried I’m not being interesting enough and it leads me astray - before you know it, the whole thing is in split-screen! And boring! I’m not being cynical, though. I’m honestly never that. Rubbish frequently, but not cynical. But sod all that! Great episode! My favorite show, my favorite monsters, my favorite city, my favorite script editor. Hooray for EVERYTHING!"
Much of the publicity for this story was generated to divert attention from the unlikely sex scandal between a certain massive-breasted supermodel and a certain bald toothbrush-wielding maniac. "WORLD EXCLUSIVE: JORDAN’S KNICKERLESS BRIGGS!" was one of the more memorable headlines from The Sun.
Rumors & Facts -
Rather than cramming an entire plot into 45 and keeping the piece fast-paced and exciting, Dustbins on Broadway! sets the scene with more detail and concentrating on menace as well as plot. The last time we were treated to a story with this much historical detail and atmosphere was Shell Shock and we all know how bad THAT turned out!
Having set Dustbin stories in the heady futures of 2007, 2012 and 200,000 AD, executive producer Russell T Davies finally thought it was all getting a wee bit 'samey' and they needed to shake things up again by having the monsters appear in the Earth’s past. RTD felt that this had been very successful when previously attempted in 1967’s Obsessive Compulsive Disorder Of The Dustbins which few living had ever seen but the BBC considered it worth repeating before incinerating 85% of the master tapes, so it HAD to be good.
But instead of visiting 1869 Victorian England, RTD envisioned the adventure be set in 1987 Cardiff in the aftermath the Black Monday stock market crash – which really annoyed prospective author Steven Moffat who STILL gets free drinks for scribing The Nun in the Lift-Shaft for the previous season. Moffat insisted that if HE was to be allowed to write the story he would require complete editorial independence.
His take on the story was "Axis of the Dustbins" and set in 1941 as Dustbin Leo sells his services to the Third Reich and turns the rest of the Cult of Fargo into giant armored laser tanks. The Doctor defeats and eradicates the Dustbins in about three seconds flat, with the rest of the story focussing on renegade genetically-engineered super soldiers trying to assassinate Winston Churchill in the mistaken belief that Churchill was actually Hitler (further evidence that for Moffat "historical research" involved watching episodes of The Goodies and taking the content as gospel).
Unaware of the desperate game of bluff Moffat was playing with the Doctor Who production team, RTD was delighted with this idea and considered it the perfect excuse to write out the popular mutants and reintroduce a far worthy foe for the Doctor: the Moxx of Balloon!
With his machinations involving Paul Carnall and Doctor Who annuals taking up increasing amounts of his time, Moffat was simply too busy to tackle this story, so RTD was forced to offer "Song and Dance of the Dustbins" to Doctor Who script editor Helen Raynor who had written Plot Device - arguably the most pointless and time-wasting episode of Touchwood, a series that DEFINED pointless time-wasting!
RTD was very pleased with Raynor as she clearly lacked any kind of mind of her own and thus would do all the tedious script writing with none of the creative friction that so dominated other writers like Steven "Pure Evil" Greenhorn or Chris "Joss Whedon Reincarnated" Chibnall. Raynor was offered the Dustbin adventure around March 2006; onsequently, her script-editing duties were reduced to give her time to write her screenplay. If I were being a complete arsehole I’d say this coincided with the sudden improvement in scripts... but that’s probably down to the complete lack of Mark Gatiss, Touchwood and Arthur the horse.
Anyway, RTD wanted the story set in 197 Cardiff docks, the revelation that Weevils were servitors of the Dustbins so at least the prosthetics from Touchwood were USED for once, and also play up the Dustbins’ obsessive-compulsive nature, as well as the TMNT-inspired Cult of Fargo ripping off that neato cliffhanger where Krang the disembodied brain absorbs Shredder’s head and takes on his body to cause mayhem!
Raynor did everything she was asked in return for a DVD collection of Universal Pictures monster movies, which was the perfect size to prop up the hatstand in her hallway. This had apparently been bugging her for a long time, and was so happy
Reflecting the major plot points of the adventure, Raynor’s scripts came to be called The Cult of Cardiff’s Sky High Master Plan In The Building of Doom. It was at this point that RTD realized that the BBC had only screwed the rights to the Dustbins from the Nation Estate for only three years, thus, technically, this might be the last time they could use the motorized trash cans of tidyness!
With the low cunning and fiendish skills that got RTD where he is today, he decided to have the story feature the destruction of the Dustbins for GOOD - no, seriously, this time he meant it – and feature the creation of a brand new alien menace that the BBC could copyright for themselves: the humanoid Bistduns who just so happened to resemble Davy Jones from the Pirates of the Carribean film franchise!
Oddly enough, neither the BBC nor the Terry Nation Estate were keen on this development and indeed were prepared to renegotiate use of the Dustbins and for a brief while this story was known as Evaluation of the Dustbins mainly by people who were bitterly smoking cigarettes and pacing up and down a lot. Weird, huh?
Ultimately, the Nation Estate folded like a house of cards but tried to reestablish its authority by demanding the story feature the Dustbins taking over the Empire State Building and turning it into a giant, kaiju-sized Dustbin. RTD laughed in their face and said, even if he was ever pathetic and brain-damaged enough to use that idea, he’d make sure it was the Cybermen who’d do it, not the Dustbins – just to prove to the Estate who was the boss in this increasingly disturbing sadomasochistic relationship.
Early on, Raynor set much of the action around the speakeasies which proliferated during Wales and revealed Laszlo was involved with a dodgy real estate agent which in turn was involved with the local Mafiosi which in turn was run by Touchwood. However, RTD wanted to avoid the jazz music which for some reason he assumed would be predominant in such an environment and scrapped the idea. He refuses to discuss this to this day, which is convenient as no one really wants to talk about it.
The Dustbin story was designated Block Four of the production schedule for the 2008 Doctor Who season, which actually turned out to be rather inefficient as it meant it would filmed over a year after all the props and actors were prepared. In a moment of diabolical ingenuity, director James Strong (who still gets heckled for his work on The Santa Tip and the Touchwood episodes The Trouble With Lisa Is That She’s A Cyberwoman and They Keep Shagging Suzie) brought forward everything by eighteen months, allowing production to start right away. Thank god he was here, as terrifyingly NO ONE else had thought of this.
Strong was eager to make his realization of 1930 New York City as believable as possible, so as you can imagine getting a story set in 1980s Cardiff was monumentally depressing for him – and things were worse when he discovered that Doctor Who Confidential, the behind-the-scenes documentary, had decided to travel to the Big Apple for no other reason than to mock him. Strong suggested to Doctor Who producer Phil Collinson that a skeleton film crew could join them to take footage for The Dustbins on Broadway!; Collinson was baffled as the script wouldn’t make sense set in 1930s New York and what the hell were they intending to actually FILM there?
Consequently, Strong decided to stop trying to explain it and went to New York City on his own for three days where he saw the Empire State Building, the Statue of Liberty, the Majestic Theatre before getting completely pissed in a bar called 230 Fifth on Fifth Avenue. Feeling much better, Strong returned to Wales where everyone was impatiently waiting for him to actually start work.
Strong and his team then spent a week from October 23rd to 30th at Upper Boat Studios (with the exception of the 29th when Strong needed another quick trip to Manhattan to keep him going), covering material in the theatre, the sewer tunnels and the TARDIS console room. From October 31st to November 7th, the old "Argh! My Face!" glass site at Trident Park in Cardiff Bay served as the transgenic laboratory, due to the suspicious and highly unethical after-hours activities being carried out by the glass site staff, who would have been genetic scientists had they not wanted a job that allowed them their own hours.
During the first day of filming there, it was discovered at the last minute that no hands had been ordered for Omar Djalili’s costume as the Bistdun hybrid Leo, and so the actor was given a pair of boxing gloves to wear for the scenes in which Djalili is absorbed by Leo. Subsequently, however, it was realized that the panic was all for naught: the hands had been fabricated after all. Tragically, all the scenes had been filmed by then and many were of the opinion hybrid Leo looked better with the Boxing Gloves, as it gave the impression he might actually be in any way capable of hurting people.
More sewer scenes were then captured at Upper Boat on November 8th, but they were pretty boring and routine, bar only some experimental camera work as a homage to That Mitchell and Webb Look, a tribute that TMAWL repaid with their season finale tying into The Beat of the Drums, when they played two BBC newsreaders commenting on the Toclafane invasion and voicing their opinions the new aliens would not have pay congestion tax.
Raynor had originally envisioned the TARDIS materializing on the roof of a Broadway Theatre, but had amended this to the base of the Statue of Liberty, then amended AGAIN when they realized Strong was getting itchy feet again and wanted desperately to return to the States. Since the budget did not permit David Tennant and Freema Agyeman to accompany Strong to New York City, let alone provide a reason to, Strong went to the Cogan Leisure Centre in Penarth, on November 9th and tried to convince himself it was New York.
While he was doing that, Tennant was combatting issues with his voice – most particularly the fact that it was being dubbed by Nicholas Briggs who was also attempting to edit in a computer sprite of himself. Yes, Briggs was once again intent on becoming the Canon Doctor Eternal, by editing himself into David Tennant’s episodes.
Amongst the edits to The Dustbins On Broadway! was a Park sequence excised because it had been shot too late in the day, and so the light was insufficient and also all the cast and crew had gone home. There were some other cuts but, I’ll be blunt, none of them were interesting enough to warrant a mention. And if you think there’s some missing scene that somehow explains the insanity of the DNA stuff, well, too bad.
Reaction to this epic Dustbin two-parter was... oddly enough... rather negative. Was it the 1980s setting? The show tunes? The Weevils? The Bistdun? The Doctor repeatedly trying to kill himself like a true Monty Python Scotsman? Or was it just that it was written by a straight woman?
According to the folk on Outpost Gallifrey:
"We, the undersigned, are firmly of the opinion that this appalling story was full of plot holes, cliches, wasted opportunities, ludicrous climaxes and clunky godawful speeches makes us question whether or not this insane harlot, the same vapid whore responsible for that Touchwood episode, should be allowed to live after ballsing up such an opportunity, damaging the Dustbin brand and spectacularly ruining this entire year’s output of Doctor Who! What, did she think this shit was for Spike Milligan’s Pakistani Dustbins or something?!
She is no good! Her writing is utter crap! She didn’t even have a decent IDEA! This had no direction and lots of money, a flashy, showy but totally hollow, vacuous and empty waste of two episodes! This is the Doctor Who equivalent of Paris Hilton! This story is a personal insult that has ruined the whole Doctor Who franchise! We now hate the show because of this story! WHAT A PILE OF SHIT! WOMEN CANNOT WRITE DOCTOR WHO!
And for your information, RTD, we are NOT fickle!"
RTD reacted in a calm and professional manner. Which just so happened to take the form of releasing Rob Shearman to begin a Jason-Voorhees-style serial killing rampage with those named in the petition. They were never heard from again, apart from the agonized squeals choking on their own blood.
Some might complain that The Dustbins on Broadway! is unoriginal and poorly plotted – a dumbed-down version the Dustbin Civil Wars from 1967 onwards, but I gotta ask you this: did THEY have a denouement with a sharp-suited one-eyed gimp with multiple phalluses around his head being lead along in chains by a Dustbin? I don’t remember Dustbin BDSM occurring in any Saward-era stories, do you?
I thought not. So shut the hell up and stop sending Raynor death threats.
Meanwhile, David Tennant continued his baffling desire to sing in every episode which indeed got completely out of control in a story about musical theatre. Indeed, the story’s dance number by a curious mix-up lead to actually spoiling the ENTIRE plot of the season finale AS WELL as the ongoing story arc for the season. Fans at the time wracked their brains to decipher possible meanings of the song in question for months on end, and no one ever suspected the truth, not even to this day.
What a pack of losers.
"Alan B’Stard Is An Evil Time Lord Called The Bastard" by Lucie Miller and the rest of Cellblock H
I’m a Northern lass, I ain’t seen a lot
But you came along and my heart went pop
You took a police call box to me heart
And an apple of lust fell off me apple cart!
You looked at me, me heart began to pound
You weren’t the sort of guy I thought’d stick around
Hey, but it don’t have to be eternally
My Magnificent Bastard put the devil in me!
You put the devil in me...
You lured me in with your cold grey eyes
Your simple smile and your bewitching lies
One and one and one is three
The Magnificent Bastard, the Doctor and me!
So, now luv, I ain’t the girl you knew
Cause the Doctor’s got the victory, but I get you
And the Toclafane are in fact humanity
My Magnificent Bastard put the devil in me!
Oh, you put the devil in me!
You put the Devil in ME!
You put the Devil in me...
You put the Devil in me...
Which is why I shot you dead.