Let’s get the grumbles out of the way. The Angels themselves, if anything, are the weak bit here. Inevitably, given that this is their third full story in Doctor Who, their scare factor has diluted the more they’re exposed. Steven Moffat once again finds ways to evolve them and deepen them, but The Angels Take Manhattan does lack the sinister edge and the get-under-your-skin fright of the Angels of past. That’s a by-product of us getting more familiar with them, but also there’s something to do with the Angels near the start of the episode that doesn’t quite work.

Also, the episode zips around an awful lot, and it requires some attention to follow the assorted threads. We’ve no problem with that – television that demands something of its audience is no bad thing – yet it’s the stiller moments that are the most effective here. As much fun as Steven Moffat tries to pack into the episode, it’s in the final third where it’s very much at its strongest.

We’re not going to say much more, because you really don’t want this episode spoiled. So we’ll come to the crux of it: did we love The Angels Take Manhattan? No, although we’d bet that many of you will. But it’s nonetheless a good episode, that’s excellent when its focus more overtly shifts to what we know is coming.

The ending in particular is strong, as much for the Doctor as for anything else. And Matt Smith is brilliant once more. It’d be remiss to say he gives one of his best performances in the role, because his central work in the show, particularly over what’s been a bumpy-ish five episodes, has been uniformly tremendous. Karen Gillan and Arthur Darvill are no slouches either, and The Angels Take Manhattan is a real reminder of the strength they’ve brought to Doctor Who over the best few years.

Our advice for Saturday night? Lower your expectations just a little, get some tissues ready, and prepare for a good, moving episode of Doctor Who. It’s just a shame we won’t get any more until Christmas…