This is just bloody typical. K-9 turns up and is awesome, and then for the next story he’s left at home. Forty years of this shit. But not only that, Luke was left at home too, and we didn’t see hide nor hair of Mr Smith. It was weird that there wasn’t so much as a cutaway or a bookend featuring them, and also that, no offence to Clyde and Rani, apart from Sarah Jane herself, they elected to make an episode without any of the best characters.
Naturally this felt like a bit of a disappointment after the show hit new heights last time. It wasn’t that it was bad necessarily, more that it lacked anything particularly special. The haunted house is such a standard setting that it seemed rather by the numbers – a succession of stock scares that we’ve seen dozens of times before, including such cliches as the creepy toy room, books flying off the shelves, doors slamming, a stuck record, a secret passage behind a bookcase and creepy children down the end of a corridor. Although the self-playing snooker table was a nice touch.
One thing that it did have in its favour was none other than Donald Sumpter, another very big name for a CBBC show. He was having a lovely time camping it up and being daft, but it did feel like he wasn’t quite taking it seriously enough towards the end. Maybe it’s because he went on to be Rassilon very briefly, but I thought his character would turn out to be a rogue Time Lord. He had a home-made inter-dimensional device in a cellar and a face that hasn’t changed in 300 years, but then I remembered that the Time Lords are all supposed to be completely dead at this stage.
Elsewhere in the guest cast, Floella Benjamin is back as a part-time companion of sorts, for some reason. That’s all well and good, but her assistant is absolutely woeful. I spent most of the first part worrying about how I was going to approach this write-up, because I wasn’t sure whether he had something wrong with him or if he’s just shit. Thankfully, having looked him up and seen he’s just a normal man who’s gone on to have a half-decent career, it’s the latter, so I can take the piss. He’s *dreadful*. He sounds like Bob Mortimer’s impression of Harry Kane from Athletico Mince.