The standard response to Tat Wood's revised edition of this volume (more revised editions are due in the coming years) is that less really should have been more. I don't entirely agree, as I'm very attracted by the phrase "exhaustive". Let's be honest, if you're going to a printed book in 2022 to gain insight into an old television series, you're not doing it just to get some facts and figures. Between Wikipedia, the Blu-Rays, and the enviable array of Doctor Who websites, any casual or part-time fan will be more than sated. These books are an old-fashioned idea, to etch an astonishing array of facts and theories in stone, and Wood has successfully carried it out.

The sense of humour about the flawed side of the program is enjoyable, while the detailed examination of the series in light of cultural context is highly valued. For those of us who weren't there in the 1970s or are from across the seas (or both, in my case), it can be easy to forget that most episodes of the program - like most works of fiction in general - played very differently to its original intended audience, who carried with them a head full of symbols, images, social assumptions, tropes, popular culture linkages, actors' names and faces, political understandings, bromides, fairy tales, religious concepts, and attitudes, not to mention being "locked in" to a Saturday evening timeslot in the way that modern viewers to a TV program are not. I think the About Time series is the best overall work to hold one's hand through the experience of diving deep into Who.

(This review is based entirely on the first three volumes, so I cannot speak as to whether the wheels will give out when Wood reaches the oft-criticised 1980s seasons, nor whether his alleged cruelty toward the new series will be warranted.)

Of course, it's not perfect, and the flaws do matter. First of all, as others have noted, lots of little facts are not quite as factual as one would like. There is an entire thread on Gallifrey Base devoted to this, exposing what are mostly minor niggles (surnames of historical figures misspelled, dates slightly incorrect) but do sometimes extend to historical situations being misinterpreted or misrepresented, which is a problem given the book's schoolmasterly tone. Second, could we acknowledge that occasionally the dives go too deep? Sure. There may be one too many footnotes, and one's eyes roll automatically when the footnote is merely explaining a joke made by Wood rather than relating anything to the program. Third, it’s clear that Wood owes a debt to that pioneering 1990s volume on the subject, The Discontinuity Guide, and adopts something of its tone in the intro to each serial. But whereas that volume was written at a time when many fans were unable to see every story, this is the era of streaming and home media (and easy piracy). The entry on “Inferno”, for example, rather beguilingly reads as if it were made for someone who has know hope of seeing the program. I’d like to know of even one reader who decided, in this modern age, that the book was all they needed!

And fourth, yes, it must be said: "schoolmasterly" is how I described the tone, but others might go for "snotty". Whether lecturing us on the music of Stockhausen or the relationship between Wales and its parent, the United Kingdom, Wood has chosen to approach this book like an expert introducing new immigrants to a culture. Often that's welcomed, as I mentioned earlier, when it places the program into its context. But by the time he's explaining what "beans on toast" are (thanks, Tat!), it's a tad dispiriting. Yes, my American partner wouldn't understand baked beans, but in this situation it is a thoroughly unnecessary interjection designed to make English culture sound like something thrillingly esoteric. It makes for a discombobulating experience, as he clearly wants to write for both ignorant millennials like myself and interested armchair Who scholars of his own generation. Sometimes, thus, he leans toward the "this funny thing happened in 1971 and, no, I'm not lying!" while other times he casually mentions multiple television programs or bands with the expectation they'll be familiar to us. It's an uneven mix that comes from his desire to write a book that is all things for all people, which perhaps also explains its length.

Those are not complaints, just honest criticisms. I'm having great fun revisiting the series in its entirety for the first time since I discovered it back in the late 2000s; it's a privilege to have Wood by my side... even if I'm reminded sometimes of how my partner's eyes glaze over when I rabbit on about the exact order of Shakespeare's plays. This book replicates the feeling of having an excessively nerdy friend tie you to a chair and not let you leave until you've listened to his entire PhD in one hit. Indeed, my relationship with Wood is rather how I imagine the Doctor felt about K-9: it's exceptionally nice to have you here, I appreciate what you bring to the team, and I couldn't survive without you. But when you're not required, please go back in the cupboard. There's a good dog. ( )

In which Tat Wood does his best to prove that less is more.

The original edition of this was the first in the About Time series. At the time it was a fresh approach for Who guidebooks, which had tended to default to the template set in The Discontinuity Guide. This sought to delve into the fiction of the series with the same rigour that Andrew Pixley investigated production details. And at the heart of it were two of the cleverest men in fandom, walking encyclopaedia Tat Wood and the always provocative Lawrence Miles. At its best the approach was like watching two mates conduct a high class pub debate about the series – funny, provocative and often ludicrous in its inaccuracy. And the later things got the more long winded things got, someone threw his drink over someone else and walked out, and the more you needed a drink to get through the aftermath. This second edition continues the trend towards bloating. As the pilot for the series the first edition looks Kate Moss skinny compared to the other plus size models that followed, so it was a natural candidate to be redone.

First off, the predominance of a single author is comparatively painful. Wood’s humour tends toward the sardonic. Which would be fine, but Wood boasts of a commanding knowledge of pop culture and science, and plays this up so it often comes across as mean spirited and arrogant (even more so when there’s a whole section dedicated to ‘things that don’t make sense’). I like intelligent criticism of Doctor Who but with no-one to play off against this is drier than Death Valley at the height of summer. Which is a major problem in a book which dedicates up to 30 pages of double-columned small print pages to each story.

Second, the fact that it’s apparently been revised to the nth degree, but still lets factual errors slip through – one section, for instance, mangles the spelling of Jeff Astle’s name and also the reasons for England’s notorious elimination from the 1970 World Cup. A willingness to correct errors is laudable, a failure to correct in what seems a weak area for the author is less forgivable.

For all that the cultural background provided is fascinating stuff, as are the ways the author links it all together (even if you need to check the facts much of the time). You’ll get plenty from reading these, but I’m not quite sure if the aridity and mean-spiritedness makes it absolutely worthwhile ploughing through it all. ( )

Conversational and erudite as well as entertaining but the frequent highly contentious judgement and severe errors of fact prevent it from gaining a fifth star. ( )

http://nwhyte.livejournal.com/1256014.html

I read the first edition of this two years ago, since when it has been sitting on the shelf with the other volumes of this superb series of handbooks to Doctor Who, looking a bit thin in comparison with its fellows. This second edition is massively expanded from the first, with most of the new material simply being more of the same excellent analysis of the programme's context (in this case the early 1970s) plus a lot more analytical essays and 147 endnotes (which is 142 more than in the first edition; though I repeat my complaint about them being endnotes rather than footnotes). There is loads more information about what was going on behind the scenes, most of which is very interesting; my own recent back problems make me very sympathetic to Jon Pertwee. A welcome shift in Wood's attitude has him attempting to incorporate New Who continuity into Old Who analysis, rather than the invective he was previously lapsing into; this offers him room for writing such essays as 'All Right, Then... Where Were Torchwood?' and additional evidence for 'When are the Unit Stories Set?' There are a couple of other standout pieces, 'Why Did We Countdown to TV Action?' on the early 1970s Doctor Who comics, and 'Why Didn't Plaid Cymru Lynch Barry Letts?' which ostensibly attempts to explain Wales to Americans but actually has a lot of good points to make.

When I read the first edition of this I hadn't yet seen all the Pertwee stories, and tended to go and look them up in Wood and Miles after I had finished watching them. Now I want to watch several of them again to see the things I missed first time around. An excellent handbook, and I am very glad that Wood is planning a seventh volume to cover the first years of New Who. ( )