Linda Herrick: Just what the Doctor ordered

Complete and utter wonderful nonsense", was the verdict delivered by actor David Morrissey as he poked his head inside the Tardis towards the end of the Doctor Who special, The Next Doctor, on Prime on Monday night. Nonsense it may be, and always has been, but it was a relief after an Easter weekend of TV dominated by repeat screenings of mediocre movies.

What made it such an enjoyable Doctor Who was the marriage of the talents of the two Davids - Tennant and Morrissey - with Dervla Kirwan, revelling as the red-dressed "harlot" matron of the St Joseph Workhouse in 1851 London.

Morrissey's range has been proven in series like State of Play, Blackpool (with Tennant) and Our Mutual Friend; he may still be reeling from the embarrassing sequel to Basic Instinct. In Doctor Who, he was happily hammier than Christmas dinner as Jackson Lake, a man traumatised by an encounter with the Cyborgs who'd killed his wife and abducted his child.

He'd suppressed the memory of that and, via an InfoStamp containing Doctor Who's identity, thought he was the Doctor, with a sidekick called Rosita, mirroring the real Doctor's life. When he met the real Doctor, Morrissey pompously told him to "watch and learn", as he pursued a hairy monster up a wall, and led them both to near-death.

"You're a legend," the real Doctor told him. "Modesty forbids me to say so," was the fake Doctor's immodest response, as he proudly revealed his Tardis - a balloon.

Yes, the plot was nonsense - a New Industrial Revolution, the harvesting of children as workers (maybe it wasn't such rubbish after all, given the context of Victorian England) and the transformation of matron into the Cyberking - but it was fun. Morrissey's balloon Tardis proved worthy after all, as the real Doctor soared above the Cyberking, zapped it into oblivion and saved the world, again.

There is something a little poignant about these Doctor Who specials, too. Tennant will appear in just four more, then he hands the keys to the Tardis to Matt Smith, the 11th and youngest Doctor. It'll be sad to say goodbye.

Doctor Who may be a cracker but Terminator: The Sarah Connor Chronicles (back on TV2 late on Wednesdays) creaked back last night with its typical mix of earnestness, gloopy dialogue and stiff acting. Mom (Lena Headey) is a teenage boy's nightmare, watchful, demanding and humourless. John Connor, the kid who is going to save the world, is sullen and hormonally obsessed with a blonde girlfriend who is nothing but a little trouble-maker.

Most of the action centred on cyborg Cameron's long night in the library, researching a shady property dealer from the 1920s who was - and still is - a cyborg. There was a flashback to his naked arrival in a speakeasy in 1920, which caused a fire, and a rare witty nod to one of the Arnie films when the naked cyborg demanded, "Give me your clothes."

Doctor Who and Terminator are both time-travel fantasies, both complete nonsense, but only one is wonderful nonsense. The other one takes itself too seriously.