Imagine that you were a TV executive producer, and that you had managed to cast one of the country’s finest actors in the lead role. To what use would you put his considerable talent and gravitas? If your answer was not “engage him in a five-minute shouty monologue about how much he hates his eyebrows”, well, congratulations: you are not Doctor Who show runner Steven Moffat. But commiserations too, because you missed out on the funniest and best-played regeneration scenes since the show’s renaissance in 2005.

So long then, Matt Smith, and thanks for all the fish fingers and custard. I’m sure I wasn’t the only fan left scratching my head as the Eleventh Doctor, clad in smoking jacket and age-enhancing makeup, played out his final scenes - not least because I checked Twitter afterwards, just to make sure I hadn’t missed anything. I can’t begin to imagine what your family members, tuned in through force of habit as their turkey dinners digested, must have thought.

I’m not sure whether last month’s 50th anniversary episode is to blame for setting the bar too high, or perhaps for using up all of the nostalgic call-backs and tips of the hat that arguably the finest Doctor of the modern run deserved for a send-off. Although The Time of the Doctor set out to tie up all the loose ends of the Eleventh Doctor’s story - even the ones, like the crack in Amelia Pond’s bedroom wall, that you were under the impression had already been tied - it did so not through affection but through a sense of misplaced duty. And so we got around 50 minutes of fast-paced guddle featuring the Silence, the Siege of Trenzalore and lots of people shouting, “Doctor who? Doctor WHO?” - across the universes, in fact. If we at least get to approach a new series, and a new Doctor, with this most tedious of in-jokes settled then perhaps the episode had its redeeming features after all.

With time at such a premium that episode writer and show-runner Steven Moffat couldn’t make enough time for the plot to breathe, it was hard not to resent pointless diversions like Christmas dinner with the family of Clara Oswald (Jenna Coleman). This may have given the Doctor’s companion somewhere to return to every time she was sent away as surplus to requirements throughout the episode, but since the characters had never appeared before it was hard to see their tabletop banter as anything other than distraction.

Meanwhile, the Doctor was trapped - and growing older, despite the past three years of the show giving us about 700 years' worth of adventure with barely a wrinkle - in a town called Christmas, “fixing toys and fighting monsters” in the form of every iconic baddie champing at the bit to restart the Time War aborted by the actions of Smith and previous incarnations David Tennant and John Hurt during the anniversary episode. The need to resume hostilities in the most devastating war ever experienced is never satisfactorily explained, but it is the job of mystical space nun Tasha Lem (Orla Brady, above right - never satisfactorily introduced, but happy to join a long line of female supporting characters cast to flirt with the Doctor anyway) to stop it from happening.

Long story short: the rest of the Time Lords saved the day by shooting space rays through the crack in the universe and gifting the Doctor another batch of regenerations, before conveniently forgetting that the whole reason they’d been bellowing the most annoying question in the universe through said crack in the first place was to arrange for their return. All that was left was for Smith to make an affecting speech, untie his final bow tie and regenerate into a frantic-eyed, curly-haired Peter Capaldi in time for the madness to begin again.

This final scene was beautifully done and mercifully short - where predecessor Tennant managed to spend what felt like 10 years slowly dying of radiation poisoning as he bid farewell to every companion back in 2010, there was only one face Smith needed to see one last time (that brief reappearance of the faithful Amy Pond, tied to Smith’s Doctor by virtue of hers being the first face that he ever saw, enough to remind the viewer why his chemistry with Coleman has always seemed lacking).

While The Time of the Doctor had its share of great moments - among them the Castaway-style relationship the Doctor forms with a severed Cyberman head whilst left to his own devices, Clara’s apparent use of the TARDIS instead of figuring out how to work iPlayer, and the way that the show owned Smith and Karen Gillan’s need to wear wigs for their iconic roles - it ultimately suffered from too much plot and not enough character. A strange complaint for a drama, sure; but one which ultimately led to an unsatisfying send-off.

Still, those few minutes of our Twelfth, Thirteenth, or First Mark Two Doctor, for whom additional years do not appear to equal control or standoffishness, pressed all the right buttons. He’ll be back - and so, glutton for punishment that I am, will I.

• Doctor Who: The Return of Doctor Mysterio reviewed on theartsdesk

Overleaf: watch a clip from The Time of the Doctor

Well, wasn't that fantastic? Three Doctors; guest appearances from just about every fan favourite you could think of and enough in-jokes to satisfy even the most committed Whovian. Plus, anybody whose interests incorporate the musical career of one John Barrowman certainly wouldn’t have been disappointed.

I’m talking, of course, about The Five(ish) Doctors Reboot, a half-hour Red Button special written and directed by fifth Doctor Peter Davison. This little treat, intended to reward those of us with the dedication to sit through the truly terrible Doctor Who Live: The Afterparty on BBC Three, featured Davison and his successors Colin Baker and Sylvester McCoy trying to right the injustice that resulted in them being left out of the 50th anniversary special episode. With so many laughs, whether they succeeded or not is irrelevant.

Allowing the current Doctor to come to terms with adulthood again paves the way for Peter Capaldi’s entry as the 13thBesides, it’s hard to imagine that showrunner Steven Moffat could have crammed much more into The Day of the Doctor, a near-perfect opus that will likely be remembered as some of his finest work when the time comes for him to hand over the reins of Doctor Who. (Incidentally, although I have always come down firmly on the side of avoidance when it comes to spoilers, I have come to the conclusion that it is nigh-on impossible to do in this case. So, for those of you who were waiting for the verdict of theartsdesk before picking up the episode on iPlayer - let those five stars down the right-hand side be your guide, and we will speak again in 75 minutes.)

The special incorporated the last two doctors, Matt Smith and David Tennant, the latter slipping effortlessly into the quirks and tropes that defined his tenure as if he had never been away. Casting screen legend John Hurt as the forgotten "War Doctor" was also an inspired choice, even if it was hard to escape the nagging feeling that most of his lines would have worked just as well - and, perhaps, were originally written - in the Northern tones of one Christopher Eccleston.

That said, if Moffat had pulled off the ultimate coup and tempted back the Whoniverse’s original conscientious objector I daresay we wouldn’t have received such a convincing explanation for the recent trend towards the Doctor’s ever-more youthful appearance with each regeneration. Transported from the middle of the last day of the Time War, in the style of A Christmas Carol, to be shown the man he will become by a weapon so terrible it has developed its own consciousness - which it has chosen to manifest in the shape of Billie Piper - Hurt’s Doctor meets his future selves for the first time in a wood in Elizabethan England. Here, he rips into the whimsy - sandshoes, “dicky bows” and ridiculous catchphrases - which have come to define the Doctor since the 2005 reboot. It becomes obvious that “the man who regrets and the man who forgets” have thrown themselves so completely into the character of the mad man with the blue box because to do otherwise would mean embracing an adulthood in which genocide of their own people was the only choice.

The Gallifrey that we see in The Day of the Doctor - a chaotic, war-stricken hell; full of suffering, screaming children and close to rubble - is at odds with the portrayal of the power-hungry Time Lords led by Timothy Dalton’s Rassilon in David Tennant’s final episodes. On that occasion Tennant’s Doctor reaffirms that he had no choice but to push the button. By the end of The Day of the Doctor, it’s a choice that all three versions of the man have embraced - before, in the style that has come to define Moffat’s tenure, Smith’s version finds a way around it.

In the end, the Elizabethan England thread of the story was a plot device only necessary to show the effectiveness of a plan 400 years in the making - the be-suckered Zygons waiting for Earth to be "worthy" of invasion versus the centuries that the Doctor has had to mull over another way to resolve the Time War - as well as to give Tennant another pretty lady to kiss, in the form of Joanna Page’s Elizabeth I (pictured with Tennant). Stored inside paintings in the National Gallery, the shape-shifting beasties emerge into present-day London and promptly take the forms of UNIT staff, including Kate Stewart (Jemma Redgrave). Deep underground in the Black Vault, the Doctors force humans and Zygons to negotiate by wiping enough of their memories so that they can no longer tell which is which - preventing the humans from detonating a nuclear warhead under London to destroy the Zygons, or killing millions to save billions in a mirror of the Doctor’s own choice four hundred years ago.

Seeing the men that he will become gives Hurt’s Doctor the impetus he needs to go through with the destruction of Gallifrey, while getting to know their former self allows Tennant and Smith’s versions to accept, and collude in, that choice. Until Clara (Jenna Coleman) steps in and insists that there has to be another way - a way which involves all of the Doctor’s past selves, plus his future self (because who could resist?) doing something with their TARDISes which may or may not have made Gallifrey disappear, to be kept safe - possibly - inside a painting.

Whether or not the humourless Time Lords, whose demise was perhaps the wisest choice Russell T Davies made when originally rebooting the series, have actually survived - and what the consequences of that could be - now remains to be seen as the show moves forward. It’s a clever trick which, as the previous Doctors will not remember it - and Smith’s has only discovered it now - does not negate or rewrite anything that has gone before but gives the show a fresh new direction. And allowing the current Doctor to come to terms with adulthood again paves the way for Peter Capaldi’s entry as the 13th, and possibly - but surely not - final Doctor at Christmas. If the rest of his tenure is as exciting as those five seconds of his eyebrows there’s plenty to look forward to.

All this, plus all the in-jokes and winks you’d expect from an anniversary episode including the original title sequence; the opening scene at Coal Hill School; Tennant’s final words as the Doctor - again - and a Tom Baker cameo. If you’ll excuse me, I’m off to watch it again…

Overleaf: watch The Day of the Doctor trailer

Of all the ways in which the BBC has chosen to mark the 50th anniversary of one of its most celebrated exports, surely this (other than the obvious) was the most anticipated: a feature-length retelling of the origin story of Doctor Who, written and executive produced by some of the same names behind the show’s current run.

Today’s special preview of the impending 50th anniversary episode of Doctor Who finally filled in some of what happened in the gap between Paul McGann’s 1996 made-for-TV movie and the show’s 2005 televisual regeneration (Big Finish audios notwithstanding, obviously). So it was appropriate that today’s other Who-related event, a one-off tie-in documentary fronted by Professor Brian Cox, began by doing its best to bridge the gap between its presenter’s time in 90s dance-pop band D:Ream and his own unlikely regeneration as one of TV science’s most famous personalities.

There are plenty of aspects of Doctor Who worth examining through a scientific lensPersonally, I’d happily watch an hour of back-and-forth between Cox and current Doctor Matt Smith - their short scenes, interspersing the rest of the show’s lecture format, were a joy to watch - but the show had unfortunately promised Proper Science, with the usual celebrity guests, rather than a jaunt in the TARDIS. Thankfully Cox is an engaging lecturer, which seems as good an explanation as any for why the majority of those celebrity guests remained stuck to their seats throughout.

Cox began, as all good lecturers do, by setting out his thesis - by the end of his allotted hour, he wanted to demonstrate whether it was or was not possible to travel in time just like the Doctor. With all of space and time to choose from, his goal was modest - Dr Michael Faraday’s Christmas Lecture on the chemical history of the candle from 1860, given in the same building from which he was addressing his audience. Faraday’s theories popped up again throughout, as did those of Albert Einstein and Italian physicist Enrico Fermi, whose ‘Fermi Paradox’ is the apparent contradiction between the likelihood of the existence of extraterrestrial life and the fact that we on Earth have not yet seen any evidence of said life.

There are plenty of aspects of Doctor Who worth examining through a scientific lens - I for one would love to see a few of those times the Doctor saved the day armed with nothing more than his trusty sonic screwdriver debunked - so it was a bit of a shame that Cox’s lecture focused solely on the big questions: those of time travel and alien life. Though Cox and his volunteers (former Bang Goes the Theory man Dallas Campbell, Charles Dance, Professor Jim Al-Khalili and comedian Rufus Hound) were able to recreate some of the science through simple on-stage experiments, there was no chance that we were going to meet a genuine Martian by the lecture’s end or that Cox would be able to have a cup of tea with his beloved Faraday and be home in time for supper.

By 10pm we had learned that it was theoretically possible to travel into the future, if you didn’t mind a 10-year detour around outer space, that a former pop star with a considerable IQ needs to have LSD jokes explained to him and that, if you were going to throw Rufus Hound out of the universe through a black hole - or at least a convincing picture of one - you’d never actually see him disappear. Whether the rather complex science had stuck was another matter - but it was certainly an interesting, and fun, place to start.

• Doctor Who: The Return of Doctor Mysterio reviewed on theartsdesk

Overleaf: watch the latest trailer for Dr Who 50th Anniversary celebrations on Saturday 23rd November

Ever since Steven Moffat made the transition from fan favourite writer to showrunner, certain storytelling tricks in Doctor Who have become increasingly frequent. I can’t have been the only one who groaned at the short prequel to The Bells of St John, the first of eight new episodes to air before the summer, when it appeared online last week.

As everybody but the most casual of viewers knows, the titular character in a certain long-running BBC sci-fi series is not “Doctor Who” but merely “The Doctor”. Yet Steven Moffat - showrunner and second most talented writer to come out of Paisley - seems to be having a bit of a love affair with those two words.

Next time you glance up at the stars, spare a thought for your Christmas tree. It’s probably topped by a star, but some of those in the sky might just be the spirit of the tree itself. By helping free the spirits of the trees in a forest, the Doctor transported the symbols of Christmas into an adventure that only he could have instigated. The combination of Christmas, the World War Two setting, Matt Smith’s vitality and a family uncertain of their future ensured this nostalgic fantasy was an instant seasonal classic.

The war is ongoing and Christmas is almost here. Madge Arwell comes across a strange man in a strange suit, whose face she can’t see. She helps him find a police box. She has also received the telegram telling her that pilot husband Reg is lost. Afraid to tell her children, Cyril and Lily, she doesn’t want this to become the Christmas that breaks their hearts. Keeping the secret, she takes them to a country mansion for the holidays and finds a caretaker who’s turned the rooms into a crazy, Willy Wonka version of what comes with Christmas. The caretaker is the Doctor, returning to thank her for helping him out.

He’s also left a present, a large box, in the living room. It’s irresistible for Cyril, who opens it early. In his dressing gown, he steps in, entering a snowy forest. In turn, they all enter, discovering the gift isn’t what the Doctor thought it was. It’s not Narnia. About to be harvested, the spirits of the forest’s trees need help escaping their fate. Madge is the key and, in full-on protective mother mode, she comes to the aid of Cyril, Lily and The Doctor, giving the spirits their release.

Matt Smith’s Doctor was at his most paradoxical. Manic, charming, eager to please, isolated and jumping in without weighing the consequences, he was forlorn, yet enthusiastic and magnetic. Thankfully, Claire Skinner’s Madge Arwell was there to pull everyone out of danger before it sucked them all in irreversibly. Holly Earl’s Lily Arwell was level-headed, her quizzical acceptance of all that came along exactly what you’d hope for in any kid that comes across the Doctor.

As Cyril, Maurice Cole was a delight (pictured left). From the Milky Bar Kid on, any boy in oversize, milk-bottle-bottom-lensed round glasses is going to be a classic. Alexander Armstrong has been perfecting the what-ho type for years, so he was perfect. Bill Bailey, Arabella Weir and Paul Bazely as the bumbling, uncertain operatives monitoring the harvesting of the forest tempered the impending peril.

Despite the borrowings from The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe, the strongest reference was the great Powell and Pressburger film A Matter of Life and Death, released in 1946 as the meaning and effects of the War were being digested. The film was central to the process of understanding. Alexander Armstrong’s Reg Arwell explicitly brought David Niven's Peter Carter to mind, as did the scenes of his lost, doomed plane and his unexpected return to earth. The Doctor became A Matter of Life and Death’s guide, Maris Goring’s Conductor 71. The trees became the film’s angels – as well as stars, angels also crown a Christmas tree.

There were no Doctor Who perennials: no Daleks, no Cybermen, and virtually no role for any companions (Amy and Rory were seen at the end). The modern series isn’t tied to its history. The wooden King and Queen created by the forest were never going to be adversaries. The Doctor and Doctor Who renew themselves just as the programme bowls onwards. Six years and three Doctors after it returned to the TV schedules, The Doctor, the Widow and the Wardrobe was further confirmation that the series is in a constant state of renewal.

However Doctor Who has evolved, the question of which of his predecessors Smith most closely evokes inevitably bubbles up. This Christmas, the lonely, can’t-get-it-quite-right, slightly patrician Doctor offered a subtle nod to where it all began. Was he a souped-up William Hartnell? But as ever, the Doctor will move on, leaving such thoughts behind.

• Doctor Who: The Return of Doctor Mysterio reviewed on theartsdesk

Overleaf: watch the trailer for The Doctor, the Widow and the Wardrobe