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Carol Reed's 1949 masterpiece is a story that is perfectly presented through the medium of film. The dark post-war Vienna setting, the soundtrack and the striking cinematography all create the atmosphere of unease which is present throughout. It is a perfect example of why cinema is simply a wonderful way of storytelling as it not only uses words; but also, visuals and music to convey messages, allowing the audience truly to immerse themselves in a story.

'The Third Man' is considered one of the greatest films of its era. Whilst the story and characters are very well-written, it is Robert Krasker's expressionist cinematography and Anton Karas' score that render the film so strikingly memorable. To make the death of Harry Lime far more interesting and sinister, Reed chooses to place the film in a weary and politically divided Vienna whose citizens are consequently forced into being more suspicious of the American protagonist Holly Martins, and his investigation into his friend's fate. This lends itself nicely to Krasker as his frequent use of the titled (or Dutch) angle and heavily contrasting black and white frames all reflect and add to the awry nature of the setting and the story. The external shots in the seedy neighbourhoods tend to be lit by moonlight or streetlamps which create vast looming shadows in a crumbling city, making it harder for Martins to investigate his friend's death, as every aspect of Vienna seems as if it does not want to help him. The city, therefore, is not as much a traditional location but rather a character in its own right. Nothing in this film is quite what it seems and every feature of the visual side of the film accentuates Carol Reed's intentions. It is fitting therefore, that in the twist at the end where Harry Lime reveals himself to be still alive, it turns out that he is in fact a malicious and twisted man who perverts the meaning of good and evil, putting him in conflict with his righteous old best friend.

It is impossible to talk about 'The Third Man' without mentioning its soundtrack. Like the cinematography, it is one of its most prevalent features. Anton Karas' zither provides an atmospheric score that adds an unexpected romance accompanying the menace. The music's somewhat jaunty nature, however, does not make the film seem upbeat in any way, but rather, like everything else, distorted into something that is unsettling but beautiful. The soundtrack ultimately makes the film the masterpiece that it is since it perfectly complements the dialogue and setting.

Reed contrasts the curious yet naïve character of Holly Martins (who symbolises Hollywood America), with the much grimmer local characters forged by the War in Europe. His clean-cut and open face conflicts with the those of the hardened friends of Harry Lime. The majority are either unwilling to help or hostile towards this foreigner scouring the dark streets of Vienna as he investigates Lime's fate. Even Anna Schmidt's face is tainted with past strain and suffering, a contrast to the purity and innocence in the likes of Grace Kelly and Katharine Hepburn, her American contemporaries. Martins writes optimistic western novels that trivialise conflicts into good and evil, whereas the battle-weary characters of Vienna see the world in a far more cynical light. Even the setting reflects this sentiment, with the majority of the film being set in the evening or at night.

In many ways, 'The Third Man' is an unromantic observation on the effects of war on its victims. One only has to turn to Orson Welles' now infamous "Cuckoo clock" speech to see how Reed accentuates the true difference between the people like Lime and those like Martins. Welles' character believes that with conflict comes innovation and societal progress, compared to a country like Switzerland where "five hundred years of democracy and peace" has only produced "the Cuckoo clock."

'The Third Man' still stands up today as a masterpiece, and there is little wonder why it is widely regarded as the greatest British film of all time. Reed uses every component of filmmaking available to extraordinary effect, illustrating exactly why film is such a marvellous medium of storytelling.

Going into EXTREMIS I had high hopes after a brilliant and consistent first 5 episodes... and my god did it meet them!

I have to say, Moffat has pulled it out of the bag here with not only the best episode of Series 10 (which is saying something) but also one of the best of the revived series. The episodes overall quality was superb and even my uncle, who has never seen Doctor Who before, really enjoyed this episode and wanted to begin watching the entire show (oh dear that is a lot of catching up he has to do!)

Yes, 'Extremis' was confusing at the start but as the credits rolled my brain clicked and I suddenly understood it - but it still left me with lots of questions (as with any first-parter of a larger story). Why was Missy being executed? Who are these Monks? etc.

So a certain someone was in the Vault, and yes it was rather underwhelming but it wasn't as we'd all have expected. Like Richard Lazarus once said, "nothing is ever exactly like you expect". Yes Missy was in the Vault but the reason is rather beautiful: she was there because the Doctor didn't want to kill his oldest friend, which emulates Tennant and Simm, the way The Doctor couldn't kill The Master at the end of the Series 3 finale, even after his horrific deeds.

Matt Lucas shone in his role as Nardole today and everyone now must surely love him - even Bill said that 'he is a badass' in one of Extremis's best quotes. He took the role as the leader after the Doctor stayed behind and Nardole was written to perfection. You could see the glee in his face as he wandered about place to place with Bill looking for clues to the Veritas.

Extremis was a lot darker than recent episodes with one of the main story lines being a book that makes you want to kill yourself. This is a family show! But Moffat handled it very well by yes making it dark but not too dark that thousands of parents would complain that their kids couldn't sleep due to the horrors.

The production quality was at its highest level of the series. The Haereticum looked terrific with the costumes of the guards and the Pope's disciples as well on point. But of course, the highlight of these visuals were of course the Monks who looked terrifying. If you thought that Oxygen was creepy... well lets just say some young souls won't be getting to sleep for a while tonight.

One could argue what the point was of most of it if it didn't actually happen but then one could say the same for Last Christmas or that 10 minute scene in Dark Water. Extremis did serve a purpose, and a pretty important one too, as it was a steady but climactic build up to a surely fantastic 'The Pyramid at the End of the World' written by Peter Harness (The Zygon two-parter) and 'The Lie of the Land' written by the amazing Toby Whithouse (Under the Lake/Before the Flood).

Overall, Extremis was a superb and intriguing piece of story-telling with its slow-pace but enthralling plot(s) making this episode one of the best of the Capaldi era. Yes it was difficult to understand at the beginning but, with most Moffat stories, he manages to clean it up at the end. This 'shadow world' was just a practise one for these weird-looking monks as their greater plan is to conquer the Earth setting us up for an epic two more episodes of this. Acting was incredible and a particular stand-out was Matt Lucas portraying Nardole to absolute hilarious and 'badass' perfection.

I loved this episode of my favourite show ever.

10/10

So after a year long hiatus, Doctor Who is back on our screens with 'the Pilot'.

I have to say, this was 50 minutes of enjoyable television where new companion, Bill Potts, shone. The wonderful, and previously rather unknown, Pearl Mackie took her character in her stride making the audience fall in love with her automatically. She is very different from the marmite Clara as she is so relatable and modern. The contrast between her character and the Doctor, majestically played as always by Peter Capaldi, was stark.

Her character's introduction felt like it was something out of the Russell T Davies era with no 'timey-wimey' story-line to her character (as previously seen with Amy and Clara) and it really paid off.

The plot was simple enough, and although the villain of the week was... well, weak, it was made up by the beautiful story between Bill and her love-interest, Heather. As with all companion origin stories, the villain took a back seat so you cannot blame this episode for that. The concept of the puddle was mysterious and perhaps could have been dived into - no pun intended - with Moffat once again showing how he takes mundane every-day objects (such as statues or blinking) and makes them creepy.

Overall, this episode was an energetic, enjoyable and human piece of story-telling which introduced a lovable new companion and re-lit my love for this show.

Doctor Who is well and truly back with a solid episode all round 8/10.