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I thought Neil Gaiman’s previous episode, “The Doctor’s Wife,” was pretty much the highlight of last season. Which is why, I suppose, “Nightmare in Silver” felt like such an enormous letdown. It wasn’t just bad, it was terrible, and it was written by Neil Gaiman, which adds an extra layer of disappointment. Cybermen! The distant future! Warwick Davis in a major supporting role! Neil Gaiman scripting! It should have been magnificent. Instead, it was a litany of squandered opportunities and lazy storytelling that with every instance only made me grow angrier. By the end, I was ready to swear off Doctor Who for good. Because if there’s one thing in the world that turns me into a ridiculous fanboy drama queen these days, it’s how far Doctor Who has fallen in the past three years.

Spoilers follow! Be warned!

What do I mean by squandered opportunities and lazy storytelling? Well, for starters, suddenly Clara’s charges Angie and Artie are traveling in the TARDIS, too. When did that happen? How did Clara bring it up to the Doctor? What was the initial meeting between the Doctor and the children like? We’ll never know because it’s never shown to us. Instead, they’re just there, and as a result some scenes with truly amazing potential are simply skipped over. Instead, we get the children acting like spoiled brats (What? You’ve been to space before?) and then being almost immediately kidnapped. Once the Cyberiad (what?) has them and begins to upgrade them into Cybermen, it tells the Doctor that it needed children to revive the Cybermen, for reasons never actually explained, and the Doctor has brought it children, thereby unwittingly becoming the savior of the Cybermen. Oh no! Except after it claims the children are vitally important, the children do nothing at all. They spend the rest of the time standing around in cyber-comas while the Doctor plays chess with himself. Because nothing is more exciting than watching someone talk to himself while playing chess!

Of course, the whole chess match with the cosmos at stake thing was already done, and done better, in the 1989 Sylvester McCoy 7th Doctor serial “The Curse of Fenric.” Speaking of, “Nightmare in Silver” has a weird atmosphere and tone problem that reminded me a lot of the worst of the Colin Baker and Sylvester McCoy years, where everything was either literally or tonally about juvenilia and carnivals gone bad. Here, it’s a far future amusement park, where our heroes decide to hide from the Cybermen in something called Natty Longshoe’s Comical Castle. “Does it have a moat and drawbridge?” Clara asks, wondering if it’s a defensible spot. “Yes,” comes the reply, “but…comical.” And when we get to the castle? There’s nothing comical about it. Like, nothing. It’s just a castle. “Squandered opportunity” doesn’t even begin to describe this.

As for lazy storytelling, how about “We’re all going to die and there’s nothing we can do about it” being answered with “But wait, I’m secretly the Emperor of the Universe and even though this plot twist was not earned in any way by anything that came before it, I can get us all off the planet before it explodes!” Yes, you read that right. Someone is secretly the Emperor of the Universe and will use that to save everyone at the last minute. No, really. Here’s another example: The same person explains his situation with, essentially, “I didn’t want to be Emperor anymore because it’s so lonely, so I ran away so I could hide inside a box where no one will ever see me and operate a fake Cyberman chess game.” Or how about there not being a smidge of romantic chemistry between Clara and Porridge, what with them having maybe four scenes together, but he asks her to marry him anyway, because Steven Moffat? Or how about the Doctor fixating for a moment on how tight Clara’s skirt is, which is not just lazy storytelling but bad storytelling, since there is not a smidge of romantic chemistry between them, either, no matter how much this show likes to try to force romantic chemistry between the Doctor and his companion. Give it a rest already, people! There’s nothing there!

Once again it’s mentioned that the Doctor has been erasing himself from historical records, and once again it makes zero sense. One might assume the Cyberiad (or the Daleks, or any race, really) has its own memory banks and record books, rather than everyone jacking into the same cloud storage or whatever. So how did the Doctor get into the Cybermen’s memory banks and change it? When did he do that? Did he have to fight or trick his way in? What else did he find in there? Wouldn’t that have been a much more interesting story? You don’t have to answer that last one.

I could go on, but why bother? The episode is crap and I’d rather forget it. Like the worst of the Moffat years, it doesn’t even feel like Doctor Who. It feels like some weird, cheap, tonally deaf mix of Doctor Who and bad SyFy Original Movies. There’s only one episode left this season, plus the 50th Anniversary special in November. If those aren’t any better, I might just finally give up on Doctor Who.

After last week’s frustratingly dreadful “Journey to the Centre of the TARDIS,” Doctor Who is back with a much better, much more enjoyable episode: “The Crimson Horror.” Even the title is better!

No spoilers here, but they tend to turn up in comments, so consider yourself forewarned!

“The Crimson Horror” is a very entertaining episode, and it’s probably no coincidence that the Doctor doesn’t even show up until 15 minutes in. I had no idea how much I needed a break from Matt Smith! Well, yes, I did know, at least theoretically, but in practice it works very well. Instead of the usual ham-handed opener of the Doctor and Clara getting lost on the way to somewhere or other (though, rest assured, that scene is shown to us anyway in flashback because WHY), we open with a mystery in Victorian Yorkshire that draws Vastra, Jenny, and Strax to the scene. This threesome, first introduced sans origin story in “A Good Man Goes to War” and reappearing in the most recent Christmas special, “The Snowmen,” provide excellent comic relief (especially Strax, who keeps wanting to blow things up and often mistakenly refers to Jenny as “boy”) and nice stay-at-home companions for the Doctor. I’ve heard there is some fan demand for a spin-off series, but I suspect they work best in small doses as special guest stars. Thirteen episodes of Strax offering to blow something up would get tiresome, I think.

The real meat of the episode, however, comes from Diana Rigg as Winifred Gillyflower and Rigg’s real-life daughter Rachael Stirling as Winifred’s blind daughter Ada. (I’m convinced the scene where Jenny beats up the baddies while wearing a black leather catsuit is a direct homage to Rigg’s Emma Peel days.) With two such amazing actors in the cast, even a terrible script can shine. The script for “The Crimson Horror” isn’t terrible (despite being written by Mark Gatiss, who, after this and “Cold War,” seems to have taken a class on how to write better) but like so many other Doctor Who stories, especially during Steven Moffat’s tenure, it falls apart if you examine the details too closely. I promised no spoilers, but as usual it’s an overcomplicated plot on the part of the baddies that really doesn’t come to much of anything, and also as usual, sadly, Matt Smith goes for comedic mugging in spots where he should be acting with outrage or concern (such as when Ada takes her revenge on Mr. Sweet). Though his Frankenstein’s monster-like performance in his first few minutes onscreen is actually pretty funny. So is the running gag of the fainting client. (The “Thomas Thomas” joke is less so. I mean, is the TomTom GPS so culturally relevant as to warrant a nod?)

There’s a giant missed opportunity here when Jenny and Vastra ask the Doctor how Clara can still be alive. Instead of answering in a way that would let the audience share the Doctor’s sense of irresistible mystery, he pretty much blows off the question. I found that lazy and disappointing. There’s also a coda with Artie and Angie, the children Clara takes care of, that felt forced and didn’t quite work for me. The kids accept the possibility of time travel much too readily.

Ultimately, “The Crimson Horror” isn’t a great episode, nor a bad one. It is funny, thrilling, and entertaining, though, and for Doctor Who in the overcomplicated, overwrought Steven Moffat era, that’s enough for me.

And now, some brief Doctor Who neepery: When the Doctor and Clara leave the TARDIS upon arriving in Yorkshire when he meant to go to London, he mentions he “once spent a long time trying to get a gobby Australian to Heathrow Airport.” This is a reference to Tegan Jovanka, an Australian stewardess who wandered into the TARDIS in the final Fourth Doctor serial “Logopolis” after the Master killed her aunt, helped the Doctor through his regeneration, and then accompanied the Fifth Doctor for the majority of his adventures. Tegan once described herself as “a mouth on legs,” and indeed she spent most of her time arguing with or yelling at the Doctor. (There’s a story about a young fan asking Peter Davison if the Doctor and Tegan are married because they argue so much.) Tegan was never all that well suited for adventuring — really, she just wanted to get back to Heathrow and resume her work — and whenever danger arose the Doctor would tell her, “Brave heart, Tegan.” That line is echoed in “The Crimson Horror” right after the Heathrow line with “Brave heart, Clara.”

I can’t even. Just when I thought Doctor Who was starting to get good again, it airs an episode so shitty I can’t even bring myself to summarize it for you. All I have are questions, all of which are ignored by the script. (I’m not even talking about all the ridiculous coincidences in the story, like the Doctor turning off the TARDIS shields for no good reason right at the moment the TARDIS is about to be grabbed by the one thing it really, really needs those shields to prevent.)

Spoilers follow, but trust me, you don’t even want to watch this episode anyway!

First and foremost, how the fuck does the Doctor fall out of the TARDIS when it’s taken on board the salvagers’ ship? What exactly is the toxic substance that is making the TARDIS’ interior so deadly? Isn’t it the exact same substance the Doctor is able to effortlessly vent out of the console room as soon as he regains access to the TARDIS? How are the time zombies (you read that right, and if you’re not rolling your eyes already something is dead inside you) — who are essentially dying, seriously injured, burned up bodies — strong enough to attack people and chase them around the TARDIS? Why do they attack them? (The director, Mat King, cribs a technique from Danny Boyle’s Sunshine by never showing the time zombies in focus, because he knows they look ridiculous!) If the Doctor’s name is such a well-kept and important secret, why do the authors of the book Clara finds in the TARDIS library, The History of the Time War, know it and print it with impunity? (The book could not have been written by the Time Lords themselves. They didn’t survive the Time War to write about it!) Why would the Doctor even allow that?

It is insufferably stupid to have the Doctor set the TARDIS self-destruct mechanism, then admit there is no self-destruct mechanism, then act like a dick about it, and then be all, “Oh shit, the TARDIS really is going to blow up!” But even stupider is Tricky not realizing he’s actually human when he thinks he’s an android. It reminded me of Crayford in the 1975 Fourth Doctor serial “The Android Invasion,” who thinks he’s been turned into an android by the Kraals who rescued him from a rocket crash, but actually there was no crash and they didn’t turn him into an android. How does he discover this? He lifts his eyepatch and discovers he still has two eyes! It never occurred to him to lift his eyepatch before then! It’s much the same with Tricky. Apparently, he never wonders why he, as an android, is in the family photo with his two brothers and his dad. The whole thing is just shockingly stupid in an episode that is already shockingly stupid to begin with.

And of course the biggest, most pervasive question of the episode is: How come when Doctor Who finally has a plurality of black characters in one episode, they essentially turn out to be thieves and chop-shoppers?

But it’s okay, because in the end none of it happens! That’s right, this is one of those “time travel is magic” episodes where everything gets super shitty and then the Doctor does some timey-wimey bullshit and the entire timeline is changed so that it doesn’t happen. Thank goodness there are no rules to time travel! Except the ones that are occasionally necessary for plot purposes, of course. But when the plot demands there not be any rules, there aren’t. NAILED IT!

“Journey to the Centre of the TARDIS” is an episode best forgotten in a season that so far, with a couple of exceptions, is best forgotten as well. Much like most of last season. And most of the season before.

I’m growing to hate the fact that Steven Moffat will be the one in charge of the 50th Anniversary special.

I think “Hide” can best be summed up by what my wife Alexa said after we watched it: “This is the first Doctor Who episode I’ve liked all season.” I liked it, too, and was just as surprised about that as she was. I liked it even more than “Cold War,” which is the only other episode this season that hasn’t made me want to give up on the show entirely. Of course, “Hide” is a haunted house story, so I might be biased.

No spoilers this time, though some may appear in the comments, so proceed there with caution!

As haunted house stories go, it’s a good one. It draws a bit too much from the well of Shirley Jackson’s The Haunting of Hill House — the loud banging noises, the “I’m not holding your hand” gag —  but the spooky atmosphere works. So do the characters of Alec Palmer, the ghost hunter masterfully played by Dougray Scott with understatement and humility, and empathic psychic Emma Grayling (Jessica Raine, keeping up with Dougray Scott quite well). Of course, this being Doctor Who, we know from the start it won’t really be a ghost. While the supernatural does exist in Doctor Who, there always turns out to be a scientific explanation, usually aliens or alien technology. That’s not quite the case here, but I’ve promised no spoilers because this one actually has quite a good solution to its central mystery. A rarity for Doctor Who these days.

I also quite liked how they keep the mystery of Clara going, without it being ham-handed like the crack that showed up at the end of every episode in Season 5, or the eyepatch woman showing up randomly in Season 6. I’m interested in finding out what the deal is with Clara, but also dreading the inevitable Moffatisms that will no doubt come into play upon the mystery’s solving. I still think Matt Smith is mugging too much for the camera, though, playing the fool in situations where he should be graver. But I have a strained relationship with the Eleventh Doctor. Sometimes I warm to him, and other times I just roll my eyes.

And now, some good old-fashioned Doctor Who neepery!

This isn’t the first haunted house the Doctor has explored. In the absolutely dreadful 1965 serial “The Chase,” William Hartnell’s First Doctor — along with Ian, Barbara, and Susan replacement Vicki — go on the run from the Daleks’ newly invented time machine and wind up in a variety of locales. One of them is a haunted house occupied by — I shit you not — Dracula and Frankenstein’s monster. Of course, it turns out they’re merely animatronic robots in a future Earth haunted attraction, but the whole episode is a low point for Doctor Who, even among those first few choppy years.

Much better is the 1989 serial “Ghost Light,” in which Sylvester McCoy’s Eighth Doctor and his companion Ace wind up in a haunted house in London in 1883. I’m not a fan of that many of the Eighth Doctor serials. They tend to be overcomplicated to the point of incomprehensibility, and “Ghost Light” is perhaps the prime example of this. Still, it’s an enjoyable adventure featuring a crashed space ship under a manor house that’s causing all manner of fuss.

There is a reference in “Hide” to a blue crystal from Metebelis 3. This, too, has been mentioned before. Jon Pertwee’s Third Doctor would talk about Metebelis 3 all the time, and in the 1973 serial “The Green Death,” he uses a blue crystal from Metebelis 3 as a telepathic tool to defeat the baddies. Then he gives the crystal to his companion Jo Grant as a wedding present. The following season, in 1974’s “Planet of the Spiders,” the Doctor realizes the blue crystal he took from Metebelis 3 is super important to the giant spiders who rule that planet. The spiders decide to invade Earth to get it back. The Doctor eventually goes to Metebelis 3 to defeat the Great One, the leader of the giant spiders, but in doing so his body gets poisoned with radiation. He returns to Earth, to UNIT headquarters. There, in front of Sarah Jane Smith and the Brigadier, and with the help of K’anpo Rimpoche, a Time Lord hiding on Earth as a Buddhist abbot (!), he regenerates into Tom Baker’s Fourth Doctor.