I should have reviewed Doctor Who‘s 2008 Christmas special as well, but ultimately it was just a little unremarkable, and so I’m having trouble remarking on it. There was a giant frickin’ robot stomping over Victorian London, and I can’t think of anything to say. That’s disappointing.

I still love those dots. I could change the subject to anything at this point and no one could argue. Unluckily for you, I’m changing it to the size of text.

I’m in the middle of a disagreement at work about what size text is ideal for a website, and what size is ‘standard’. A quick survey revealed that most of the more famous sites these days don’t drop below 13px. The Age hits 15px, as does The New York Times. Some have said the standard is 12px, but I don’t see the evidence, except in old timey 90s sites. Somewhere along the way I think everyone realised that there was no point in squinting. Or, more likely, we got bigger screens and so weren’t that fussed any more about squeezing everything in. Or, perhaps we actually decided to try to come close to vaguely respecting the default font size specified by the user.¹

1. Which is a bit of a joke, of course, because your average user probably never even thought about specifying the font size. And, if they did, they’d have to specify it at 20px just to get 16px on most sites.

You always remember your first season. The stuff that comes after is usually a little better, a little cooler, a lot more polished. But that first season, there’s something special about it. It’s fresh. It’s bursting with ideas. More than any other time in the show’s history, the first season is just bloody happy to be there.

Well, mostly. I’m not sure what to make of Dollhouse. It’s not that happy. Not that excited. Not that full of ideas. It’s just sort of… there. There’s this girl called Echo. Having agreed to having her personality stripped away, she’s kind of dull. But, when she or the other “actives” are hired out to expensive clients, they temporarily become interesting. Ooooh. The “Dollhouse” is the place the company operates from — a nice wood-panelled outfit with rather elaborate sleeping arrangements.¹

Joss Whedon, away from TV for some time, has definitely come back trying something well outside of his comfort area. It’s not funny, for a start. So now there’s a lot of people out there getting their delicates in a twist, complaining that Whedon has a mandate to be funny. I’m not so sure about this, but I can’t deny that I miss the jokes.

It’s not really very ensemble either. There’s at least six main characters, but they barely talk. Paul Ballard, moody FBI agent, doesn’t get to meet anyone, but that’s to be expected. Topher talks to Langton. Langton talks to DeWitt. A lot of people talk to Echo; but that barely counts, because talking to Echo whilst not on assignment is quite painfully dull. It’s an unfortunate choice, I feel, that the inactive actives standard mode of discussion is the slow, dopey variety. There’s nothing that says you can’t be vacuous and talk fast. Eliza Dushku’s entertaining as ever when she’s acting like a person, but as Echo herself, things sink to the Arwen school of slow and unengaging speech. The setup is almost perfectly created to sabotage Dushku’s natural charisma — I liked Faith² even when she was going around stabbing people. Here, there’s no character, no charm to hold on to.

So, the plot. A rich guy’s daughter is kidnapped, and Echo is sent to get her back, using a personality which turns out to be a not-quite-perfect blend of expert negotiators. There’s a bit of jeopardy — not everything goes according to plan — but in the end, the rich annoying people are victorious over the even more annoying evil criminals, and Echo saves a girl, before completely forgetting she saved a girl.

It’s a status quo desperately in need of a shake up. I know Joss Whedon, and he’s bound to do just that at some point. In a way, the whole show feels like a house of cards waiting to be blown over by some of Whedon’s more exciting ideas. I just hope we don’t have to wait too long, because watching this hall of wankers wander about manipulating attractive but dull personality-vacuums is going to get old, very quickly.

1. What if one day they want a sixth active?
2. From Buffy the Vampire Slayer. I’m sure you all know that, but just in case.