Max Jelbart is happy to be taking the mantle as the youngest sod on the podcast. He likes writing screenplays and has been doing so since he read Russell T. Davies’ lurid accounts of procrastination and tedium in The Writer’s Tale. His first Doctor Who story was Aliens of London, because a spaceship crashing into Big Ben is the best thing a 7 year old can possibly imagine. His favourite episode is definitely Midnight, maybe Listen, truthfully The Robots of Death. No, City of Death. Wait, The Invasion. Okay, Love & Monsters. Seriously. Finally. Gotta love a bit of ELO.
Steven B grew up solely on 1970s Target novelisations and ABC afternoon repeats of Tom Baker stories in the 1980s. He was sufficiently traumatised by those memories to keep being a fan for longer than is sensible or polite, going on to identify a bit too readily with Peter Davison’s Doctor during his adolescence during the 1990s before morphing into a David Tennant clone in his twenties last decade. Now approaching 900 years of age, he’s very much a fan of Peter Capaldi and is in love with the idea of Jodie Whittaker as the Doctor as, appallingly, he nears on his fourth decade of fandom. Honestly; you get less for murder.
Peter Griffiths has had a long and convivial association with Doctor Who, beginning with Part 3 of The Invasion of Time in March 1979. He once interviewed Peter Miles for Doctor Who Magazine, and was thereafter frequently telephoned by the actor, who always announced himself by declaring, “It’s your new friend for 1995”. Calm yourself, Nyder.
Dan from New to Who was a small child in 1988 London, fearfully watching Sylvester McCoy juggle through a crack in the doorway, when he first swore his allegiance to Doctor Who and to juggling. He spent the nineties in Western Australia borrowing Targets from the library, repeatedly renting the same ten VHSes and waking up at 4 AM to watch cruelly scheduled ABC broadcasts. He still can’t quite believe the show has returned in such a wonderful fashion, and must often stop himself doomsday prepping for a second cancellation. Tragically, he never learned to juggle.