Thoughts on: The Ghost Monument

Now this is more like it. I was worried, for a moment, that The Woman Who Fell to Earth was going to set the tone for the rest of the series. It’s not that that episode was rubbish – it was okay, as far as openers go – it’s just that it didn’t do anything especially interesting. It didn’t do anything that made me excited about the direction Doctor Who was being taken. But I needn’t have worried. I’m pleased to say that this week’s episode, The Ghost Monument, has roundly dispelled my fears. This is much, much closer to the Doctor Who I wanted to see this year – which means that it put a lot of clear blue water between itself and the Doctor Who of Steven Moffat and Russell T Davies and steered into exciting and heretofore uncharted expanses.

This is, really, a very different Doctor Who. I’m really happy to be typing those words, because a “really, very different Doctor Who” is what I wanted from Chris Chibnall’s new regime this year, and what Doctor Who itself desperately needed. It’s difficult for long-time fans to appreciate how far the show has come, because although it’s a visible shift from what the show was doing in Series 9 and 10, it isn’t a huge one. But I’d recommend watching something from Series 1 – say, Aliens of London – and The Ghost Monument back-to-back. You can discern how much the show has changed not only by how different it looks, but especially by how different it feels. This is a much more mature and grown-up Doctor Who. The characters are less cartoonish and more layered, the dialogue is more mature, the plotting is more thoughtful; most visibly, everything just looks so much more sumptuous, although budget has a lot to do with that. This feels closer to a show like Firefly than it does to early New Who – there’s a strong grounding in characters and relationships, but the sci-fi is gritty and serious. In a word, this Doctor Who is real to a greater extent than any version of the show has been yet.

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I hoped I wasn’t getting ahead of myself with my excitement over this episode, but my impressions not only stood up but were reinforced by a rewatch. If this is any harbinger of the series ahead, then we’re surely in for an exciting eleventh series, and hopefully a twelfth and thirteenth after that. No doubt, there’s the possibility that this episode isn’t any indication of what lies ahead, but the series goes back to doing whatever it was doing in last week’s underwhelming opener. I really hope that isn’t the case.

The other thing that’s better in this episode is Jodie Whittaker and her Doctor. Last week I wasn’t convinced by a first look at a Thirteenth Doctor that came off as a somewhat cringey David Tennant tribute act. There are still bits of that left here, and it’s still jarring and cringey when she shifts into that mode. But the whole performance has been toned down, and she’s much the better for it. I noticed that Jodie Whittaker seems to be at her best in the role when she’s not trying too hard to play “the Doctor”, but just playing her lines the way she feels they ought to be played. She’s much, much more Doctorly when she’s just playing her natural game rather than trying to ape David Tennant or any other Doctor. She plays “feisty Yorkshirewoman” (which, I’m sure, is how Jodie Whittaker would describe herself) much better than she plays “manic and quirky”, or “David Tennant”.

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That’s the other thing about Whittaker’s Doctor: that she’s the first female Doctor, so there are no precedents she can easily riff off. A female Doctor can’t not be played materially differently from a male Doctor – Whittaker has to forge her own path in this respect. I think she’s going about it the right way: rather than apologising for being a female Doctor and trying to be a male Doctor in women’s clothes, she’s embracing her femininity and making it part of her character. Sure, Whittaker’s Doctor is strong and assertive in the way that the male Doctors have always been, but she’s more emotionally present and open, especially in the way she interacts with her companions, in a way that none of the male Doctors have ever been, but in a way that women generally are but men aren’t. Unless you’re looking for it you might not notice it because Jodie Whittaker is a woman, but this is something very new and different, and very interesting, for the Doctor.

Finally, can we say a word about Chibnall’s superb character writing? I was sceptical when it was first revealed that the Doctor would have an entire Scooby Gang tagging along after her this season, but Chibnall really has excelled himself with the companions so far. Testament to this is that – although I haven’t visited Gallifrey Base yet – I can’t see how any fans could actively dislike any of these companions the way virtually every companion since Rose (bar Wilf) has had their own sizeable contingent of haters. And what’s interesting about at least two of these three companions is that they’re carrying around the emotion of Grace’s death last episode, emotion that, as we’ve seen, is clearly infecting their relationship and is bound to boil over at some point later in the series. That’s a bit more interesting than the Ten-Rose-Mickey love triangle in Series 2. Even the grizzled, battle-hardened side characters in this episode were highly memorable and thoughtfully put together, which should come as no surprise: character writing has always been what Chibnall excels at, as anyone who’s seen Broadchurch and Born and Bred would know.

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If there’s a criticism I’d make of this episode, it’s that the Moral Lesson of the Week (“we’re stronger together”) is laid on just a bit too thick. I think maybe the Doctor scolded Epzo pointedly for his Randian outlook just one too many times, and delivered just one too many syrupy soliloquies about working together. It all felt a bit patronising. Maybe this is Chibnall’s feeble gesture towards the idea that Doctor Who is still for children, in arguably the most grown-up version of Doctor Who yet. I’m not opposed to Doctor Who pushing ethical or philosophical lessons, or even trying to appeal to children, but I don’t like feeling like I’m being patronised. Neither, for that matter, do children.

Oh, and the Tardis looks nice. Not at all what I was expecting, but I suppose I was expecting something a bit more like the Eleventh Doctor’s or the Twelfth Doctor’s Tardis, and I suppose it’s a bit difficult to do that without looking like you’re just riffing off Moffat’s Tardises. I suppose it fits what looks like it’s going to be the tone of this series though: it’s grittier and grungier and more alien. Bring it on.

Rating: 8/10.

Quickie review: Rose

“It’s a disguise!” the Doctor exclaims gleefully, without a hint of irony, as he looks affectionately upon his spaceship disguised as 1950s police box. Rose suppresses an amused snort.

Rose was the first taste of Doctor Who that a generation of Whovians would experience. It was a high-stakes enterprise, rebooting the dusty old cult show for a whole new generation. In my humble opinion it did so superlatively. Rose, in any other circumstance, would be a fairly mediocre story. London is invaded by walking mannequins. The Doctor chases the mannequins around London. The Doctor finds the mannequin-in-chief (a giant blob of molten plastic) and kills it. It’s not a particularly imaginative or exciting plot. But that’s not the point–like The Eleventh Hour, five years on, Rose was not trying to be a gripping plot, its overwhelming object was to introduce a rebooted Doctor Who to the audience, not just new characters, but the whole franchise. It answers the questions: who is the Doctor? What is the TARDIS? What is the universe of this show? What is Doctor Who? To my mind, there is no doubt that it achieved its objective, and did so magnificently. Everything new viewers needed to know about the show was conveyed stylishly, as was what existing fans wanted to know.

The Ninth Doctor and Rose make a highly watchable team, and the chemistry Eccleston and Piper have together is unmistakable. The introduction of the Doctor was done admirably. In New Who, the Doctor has always been a more enigmatic figure than he was in the original run, although the precedent for this was set at the end of the original run, in the McCoy era. This I think is a good thing, putting the Doctor at the centre of the show, and was a stroke of genius for Russell T Davies to take up this device from the get-go. Rose, too, was introduced effectively, the show establishing literally from the beginning that the revival would be a companion-centred show. Rose, almost in this one episode alone, was more fleshed out than any companion from the original run. Rose is presented as an ordinary girl from London, albeit extraordinary in her own way: it’s not just any 19-year old girl who would swing from a chain to save a man she barely knew from walking mannequins. The viewer truly forms a strong bond with Rose over the course of this episode who remains, despite everything, the archetypal New Who companion.

Although, as I said, I’m willing to overlook (for the most part), the uninspiring plot, I have somewhat less tolerance for the kind of juvenile humour this episode (and other episodes in Series 1) indulged in: the burping bin, plastic Mickey, even the Doctor himself, to some extent. I appreciate that the show was trying to find its feet anew with Series 1, straddling, as it always has, the divide between children’s entertainment and serious science fiction, but I struggle to recall anything Classic Who ever did as cringe-worthy as the burping bin (or something even worse in a later episode). The original Season 1 was directed towards children, but it didn’t patronise those children at all. I think the inclination on the part of Russell T. Davies and the producers to go in for this kind of juvenile humour was an error of judgment which, even in the circumstances (which do mitigate the seriousness of the offence… somewhat), could have been avoided with prudence.

Nevertheless, overall, a very positive start.

Rating: 8/10.

Doctor Who headcanon #2

Time Lord regeneration is both the secret to the continuing success of Doctor Who, and one of the great mysteries of Doctor Who mythos. It’s easy to forget that the Doctor isn’t human, but each time the Doctor regenerates, losing his old face and persona and gaining new, we are reminded of the alienness of the Doctor and his kind, the Time Lords, as represented by the wonder of regeneration. Time Lords are creatures of time — they “walk in eternity”, as the Fourth Doctor so enigmatically put it. The essence of time is change, and regeneration reflects this aspect of time. You think you know the Doctor, but there goes and regenerates, and suddenly he’s no longer the man you know. When you appreciate that the Doctor has done this twelve times in a lifespan of over 2000 years, you realise how really alien and inhuman the Doctor, and his species, is.

Much ambiguity surrounds the concept of regeneration in Doctor Who lore. It has never really been made clear what actually happens when a Time Lord regenerates. True to form, we fans have tried our best to nail down the precise mechanics of regeneration, but, ultimately, until more explicit evidence is provided, it is a question open to interpretation.

Which is where headcanon comes in. Some time ago I read a contributor’s piece on Doctor Who TV which speculated that regeneration involves the total “death” of the Time Lord in body and mind, wherein the consciousness of the Time Lord’s former incarnation is disintegrated alongside the physical body and is replicated in the new body. In this way, each incarnation of a Time Lord has a separate consciousness. I’m not satisfied with this explanation, as I don’t really like the idea that the only relation that any given incarnation of the Doctor has with his previous incarnations is that they are made up of the same atoms and share memories. This theory almost denies that the Doctor is the same person as his previous selves. Are a man’s memories all that makes him who he is?

I prefer to think that regeneration is an organic process that is supposed to rapidly “renew” the Time Lord’s body, rather than dissolving the old body and constructing an entirely new body. The change happens at a cellular level: the cells remake themselves to rejuvenate the whole body. This process is imperfect, though, and the regeneration process will result in a physical change of appearance — a side-effect of regeneration. The regenerative process also has the effect of frazzling the brain, resulting in an altered personality, but, ultimately, continuity of consciousness. In this way, aspects of personality due to “nature” (i.e. preferences, persona) change, but not those due to “nurture” (i.e. values and principles, memories, things that are learned or due to experience).

This interpretation can also be distinguished from theories that see regeneration as involving a “body-swap” wherein an existing body is simply changed into another body (while consciousness and memories are retained). I don’t see regeneration as exchanging one body for a completely different one, but as a complete and drastic renewal of the same body. I think it is the disposition towards seeing regeneration as a simple “body-swap” that leads many to embrace the possibility of a female Doctor: the argument is that there is no reason the Doctor could not regenerate and find that he has ended up with a female body. In contrast, the way I prefer to see regeneration — as a renewal of the existing body rather than changing one body for another — means the idea of a female Doctor is more problematic, as it is hard to see how a male body could renew itself into something other than a male body. The objection could be raised, “But how is it any different from a young man (Eleven) regenerating into an old man (Twelve)?” Ignoring the fact that Eleven had physically aged to an extent that made him physically older than Twelve when his regeneration process began, I’d suggest that such changes as physical age, height, complexion, hair colour, facial structure, weight, etc, are essentially superficial changes of outward appearance. In contrast, a change from man to woman, involves a fundamental chromosomal shift, which begs the question: if one chromosome can slip, why not two? Why do not Time Lords routinely regenerate into non-humanoid forms?

I suppose the way one looks at the mechanics of regeneration also depends on what explanation for the origins of regeneration one accepts. To my knowledge, two different explanations for Time Lords’ ability to regenerate have been offered in the show. The traditional explanation, developed in the expanded media, was that regeneration is an artificial aspect of Time Lords’ physiology inserted by Rassilon during his shaping of Time Lord civilisation. The more recent explanation propounded in the revived series is that Time Lords evolved the ability to regenerate naturally, per A Good Man Goes to War:

DOCTOR: “But she’s human. She’s Amy and Rory’s daughter.”
VASTRA: “You’ve told me about your people. They became what they did through prolonged exposure to the time vortex. The Untempered Schism.”
DOCTOR: “Over billions of years. It didn’t just happen.”

This explanation posits that Time Lords evolved the ability to regenerate due to billions’ of years exposure to the time vortex. A similar process, River Song’s conception in the TARDIS, brought about the ability to regenerate in her.

These two explanations are plainly in clear contradiction with each other: either Rassilon did artificially insert regeneration into the Time Lord genome, or he didn’t; either regeneration is a result of natural evolution, or it isn’t. Such a contradiction can be resolved by resorting to Rule 3 of my headcanon rules: “Any blatant contradictions between onscreen explanations can be resolved by preferring the most recent explanation.” Rule 9 also comes into play: “Only the television show is explicitly canon; the audio stories, novels and comics are canon if you want them to be, but are not necessarily so.” Since the traditional explanation was only propounded in the expanded media, its canonicity must be subordinated to the later onscreen explanation. Another related piece of Time Lord backstory developed in the expanded media but retconned in the revived series was the idea that Time Lords are “born” fully grown through an artificial process of being “loomed” into existence from DNA strands — The Sound of Drums and Listen have showed Time Lords as children (the Master and the Doctor respectively), as did The Day of the Doctor, which made mention of “2.47 billion” children who died on Gallifrey (and indeed showed some Gallifreyan children).

So I prefer the “evolutionary” explanation for regeneration rather than the “artificial” explanation. It occurs to me that, if one accepts the evolutionary explanation, one would be more disposed to seeing regeneration as a restorative process (as I do) rather than as a process involving a total reconstitution of the body, or a body-swap. Conflicting views of the implications of regeneration, can be, if not resolved, but at least better understood, when the different interpretations of the mechanics and origins of regeneration are understood.

Latest Big Finish listens #3 [SPOILERS]

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Question Marks — A fast-paced little story with gripping atmosphere and a small cast of great, well-written characters. Colin Baker is in great form here, as is Nicola Bryant. The story features an ingenious plot twist with a somewhat poignant ending. Unfortunately, I found Question Marks didn’t make as effective use of the 30-minute form as other such stories, like Urgent Calls; the exposition felt very rushed, and it was easy to lose track of the action and the plot. Rating: 7/10.

The Wrong Doctors — It was great fun hearing “Softer Six” encounter his younger, boisterous self in this story. There is a lot to like in this story, in particular the work of both Colin Baker and Bonnie Langford. Nevertheless, I found the plot to be confusing and hard to follow, which, unfortunately, detracted significantly from my enjoyment of the story. There were no problems, however, with telling the Sixes and Mels apart: I lost track a couple of times, but was quickly able to re-establish who was who without any problems. I think this story missed a trick in not making enough of the dynamic between the two Sixth Doctors: it would have been brilliant to hear the two Sixes arguing with each other and generally not being able to stand each other, but if I recall correctly, this only happened once and very briefly. Instead, they actually spend a lot of time complimenting each other (which, when you think about it, actually makes sense). Rating: 7/10.

Masters of Earth — This is just a great adventure story. Revisiting the infamous Dalek occupation of Earth is always going to prove great fun, and this story didn’t disappoint. As always, Colin Baker is giving his all to the part, even now that his voice has become audibly aged. While nevertheless an excellent story, Masters of Earth doesn’t contain much in the way of plot relating to the Doctor’s imperative to refrain from interfering during his visit and his consort with human resistance groups. Given the apparent premise of the story, one would have expected the Doctor to encounter the dilemma of having to stop the resistance from succeeding, and preventing the defeat of the Daleks, but this particular plot point scarcely featured, if at all; the story was basically a standard escape-from-the-Daleks story (albeit a brilliant one). Rating: 9/10.

Jubilee — Now this is a good Dalek story. Jubilee was the (loose) inspiration for the Series 1 episode, Dalek, and, while the former only bears a vague resemblance, story-wise, to the latter, Jubilee broadly deals with the same themes as Dalek. The theme of Jubilee is that humans have the same capacity for evil as do the Daleks, and, in fact, human evil is much, much worse as we have the free will to choose good and reject evil, while Daleks don’t have a choice as they are genetically engineered to be evil and hateful. There are some truly blood-curdling scenes demonstrating how evil humans can be if we want to be, and humans are mercilessly compared to Daleks throughout the story in ways that make the listener feel more disturbed by the humans’ atrocities than anything we’ve seen the Daleks do. By the end, the listener actually feels more sympathy for the Daleks in this story than the humans. This is certainly among the most disturbing and mature of Big Finish’s output, and an undoubted masterpiece in that regard. Rating: 10/10.

The Holy Terror — This story begins in very whimsical fashion, but soon becomes quite disturbing, and becomes darker and more terrifying as the story progresses. The story addresses adherence to cultural and religious custom, the nature of authoritarian societies, the parent-child relationship, and crime and punishment. This is probably the darkest Doctor Who story I’ve ever seen or heard. The morally-warped society in this story is a vision of hell on earth, if there ever was one, and there are some truly gruesome sequences: for example, in one particularly disturbing scene, a five-year old child repeatedly screams “Kill! Kill! Kill! I want to kill!”. That child proceeds to kill the entire population of the society as it searches for its father. Truly horrifying stuff; this story would never make it into the television show. The most perturbing listening of all comes at the end of the story in a particularly sinister twist that explains what exactly has been going on in this absurd, terrible place. To my mind, The Holy Terror is a masterpiece of drama, a perfectly written, acted and executed audio play. Rating: 10/10.

Storm Warning — Doctor Who Discovers Historical Mysteries, this time the truth behind the fate of the R101. I believe this is McGann’s first outing as the Eighth Doctor on audio, and he immediately takes to the role with a languid flair that shows why he is the most underrated of all the Doctors. This is also Charley Pollard’s first story with the Eighth Doctor, an adventurous, bubbly, feisty young woman who quickly endears herself to us, and, I think, forms a perfect match for the Eighth Doctor. The story itself holds up well enough, and there is a cast of great, well-realised characters, although the alien creatures in this story, I think, are slightly absurd and probably not the best the writer(s) could come up with. Nevertheless, despite this, the story was enjoyable and absorbing enough, and a great introduction to the Eighth Doctor and Charley on audio. Rating: 8/10.

The Sword of Orion — To me, The Sword of Orion seems like a hidden gem that merits a place among the best of Big Finish. It’s a spooky, atmospheric Cyberman story with a cast of great, well-played characters. The plot oozes urgency and conspiracy, while the Cybermen (the 1968 models I believe, considering the Cyberman head on the cover), lying dormant but slowly waking up on a giant spaceship, are a great deal scarier and creepier than they have been in most of their television appearances. The plot is engrossing, and its exposition is masterfully executed. The story, to an extent, addresses prejudice and racial supremacy, although the significance of the conflict with the androids could have been worked into the plot better. Nevertheless, The Sword of Orion is just a great, gripping story with the Cybermen at their best. Rating: 9/10.

The Stones of Venice — This is an interesting story set in the future in the last days of Venice before it, supposedly, collapses and sinks beneath the mire. It’s a story of magic, myth and legend, political intrigue, love and betrayal. The plot is interesting enough, although it is rather quaint and silly, and somewhat predictable. There is a cast of fairly nondescript and unremarkable characters. There are also certain elements of the story that seem to demand a lot of suspension of disbelief (the Venetian gondoliers have evolved into an amphibious sub-race? Seriously?). Nevertheless, such bizarre antics don’t overtly detract from the quality of what is, admittedly, an interesting and enjoyable, but unexceptional, story. Rating: 7/10.

Minuet in Hell — This one started off quite well, and was clearly supposed to be an “epic” (of sorts) finale to the Eighth Doctor audio “Season 27”, but I’m not sure it quite succeeded. In the first stages of the story, when we don’t know what had happened to the Doctor and Charley, and, in particular, as the Doctor seemed disoriented and amnesiac, finding himself a “patient” of some secretive lunatic asylum, the atmosphere was quite interesting and reeked of intrigue and and plot, especially given the presence of such unsavoury characters as Dashwood, Dale Pargeter and (at first) Gideon Crane. But then the wheels came off and the rest of the story was quite silly and ridiculous, not to mention overlong. To be sure, the story was entertaining enough in itself, and effectively held my attention until the end, but a story about a politician who summons demons is always going to be a bit ridiculous. The demons themselves were rubbish (those voices… ugh). The most interesting part of this story was the Doctor’s disorientation and his dialogue with Gideon Crane, as the Doctor was forced to question whether he really was the Doctor or whether he’d dreamt up everything about himself in his insanity. I shall also put in a special mention for Maureen Oakley, whose character Dale Pargeter was one of the few bright lights in a particularly bad cast of supporting characters. It was also great to hear the Brigadier return, always a welcome and reassuring presence in any Doctor Who. Rating: 6/10.

Invaders from Mars — This story has a great idea — positively inspired, I might go as far as to say: while that infamous broadcast of The War of the Worlds is causing mass hysteria in New York, an actual alien invasion is taking place. Therein lay the potential for a great audio drama. Alas, this audio is not well produced. There is an overlarge cast and too many things happening at once. For a seemingly simple story premise, the writers (Mark Gatiss) have managed to make the plot unnecessarily convoluted and drawn out. Reading other reviews of this story, I noted with some relief that I wasn’t the only one who had difficulty following the plot. There were, for example, several indistinguishable male characters, not all of whose purpose I could divine. The story only really seemed to pick up in Part 3, when the aliens showed their faces and the nature of the “invasion” became clear. Still yet, their “threat” was slightly silly and something of a letdown as they appeared to be a supremely unconvincing two-man (or two-alien) protection racket planning to collude with a mobster (or something… like I said, I never worked out what half the characters were for) to take over the world. One positive aspect of this story, though (for me, at least), was that Paul McGann seems to be finally coming into his own as the Doctor; for me, in this story, Paul McGann has been most convincingly the Doctor than in any prior story in the Eighth Doctor saga. Rating: 5/10.

The Chimes of Midnight — What’s there to say? A masterpiece. Perfection. Absolutely spellbinding stuff. I had heard of Chimes’ reputation beforehand, and I was not disappointed by any means. I was totally captivated all the way through by this luminous script brought vividly to life by superlative acting and production by all involved. It’s claustrophobic, creepy and unbearably suspenseful. A whodunnit is always great fun, but this is the best of Agatha Christie done Doctor Who style. “Anomalous” is really the key word of this plot, an otherworldly mystery spotted with the fingerprints of some sinister, supernatural force. My only criticism would be that the “answer” to this mystery, and the nature of this inexplicable, anomalous place, is a bit too clever-clever wibbly-wobbly timey-wimey for my tastes. I think it would have been more effective if a more simple explanation were preferred (less is more, after all), without changing the nature of the force at work (a time paradox). Edward Grove, a sentient paradox, or so it seemed, was also a bit of an unconvincing part of the plot. Nevertheless, these criticisms are minor and don’t detract consequentially from the fact that this is an outstanding, superlative audio drama, and a genuine classic to boot. It’s not just classic Doctor Who, but classic drama full stop. What more could you want? Rating: 10/10.

Seasons of Fear — An engaging, well-choreographed story spanning several time periods, featuring a menacing, tragic villain as well as the return of an old enemy of the Doctor’s. This is a “runaround” style story similar to The Chase (the Hartnell story), and it is prosecuted admirably as the Doctor and Charley chase their immortal adversary through different periods in British history: now British Singapore, now Roman Britain, now the court of Edward the Confessor, now the Georgian Home Counties. I wouldn’t say each of these periods are “brought to life”, as such, in that we really get a sense that the Doctor is in Roman Britain, etc, but it’s a fun chase nonetheless. The villain, Sebastian Grayle, is an interesting character, if only for the way we observe his gradual moral and personal deterioration as immortality takes its toll on him. The Grayle we meet in Georgian times is a different creature altogether from the Grayle we meet in Roman Britain, a point made disturbingly and emphatically when the 1,400 years old Grayle meets his young Roman self. In this way, the story makes a compelling philosophical point about the nature of mortality and immortality. It was great to hear the return of the Nimon, up to their old tricks again, although they were a much more sinister presence in the story when they were Grayle’s unnamed, shadowy “masters” — I think their physical appearance in the story was somewhat wasted. McGann and Fisher were both in top form, as always, and the humour in this story was appreciated and fun (“Cheer up, there’s a mouse!” said the Doctor as he and Charley languished in a medieval dungeon). Rating: 8/10.

Classic Who marathon: impressions

My recent watching of the Doctor Who TV Movie completes the “Classic Who” segment of my 50-year marathon, having watched all of the classic Doctors in order from Hartnell to McGann for the first time. It’s taken me the better part of a year, and I’m pleased to have, er, “caught up” with the first 33 years of Who that I missed by virtue of not having been alive. I’ve soaked up many memorable moments from the show’s original run and thoroughly submerged myself in Who history and lore. To complete my 50-year marathon, I need only to watch “New Who” up to Capaldi. The New Who segment of my marathon will be a rewatch, but I’ve been enjoying following the life and times of this alien time-travelling physician so much that I simply have to keep going until the end. It’d feel incomplete otherwise.

In any case, before I move onto Eccleston, I’ve decided to listen to the Eighth Doctor Big Finish audios (or some of them, at least). McGann, very unfortunately, didn’t get an “era” on television like the rest of the Doctors; his only televised outing was a very ordinary television movie. The Eighth Doctor’s “era” is on audio, and, I understand, McGann, like Colin Baker, was “redeemed” on audio by Big Finish. So I feel I owe it to McGann, given he is as legitimate an incarnation of the Doctor as any other, to immerse myself in his Doctor’s adventures just as I’ve immersed myself in the adventures of his predecessors, and as I will his successors. Thus, I’m delaying moving onto the revival as I experience the “McGann era” on audio. I’ve started with the Eighth Doctor’s adventures with Charley Pollard in Big Finish’s monthly range, which are the earliest in his timeline (apart from a couple of the more recent releases starting with In the Company of Friends). At the time of writing this, I’ve listened from Storm Warning through to The Chimes of Midnight, and have been very impressed with McGann from what I’ve listened to so far. I’ll be posting brief reviews of each audio I listen to in my regular “Latest Big Finish listens” feature.

In any case, having now seen all of Classic Who, and all of televised Who in general, it’s time to write down some impressions (and lists, lots of lists. Whovians love lists).

If I were to list my favourite eras of the show by Doctor (excluding McGann; as it would not be fair either to judge him by the movie alone, nor to judge him taking into account his audios without doing the same for Colin Baker, etc.), it would go like this:

1. Smith era (2010-2013)
2. Pertwee era (1970-1974)
3. Tom Baker era (1975-1981)
4. Davison era (1982-1984)
5. Troughton era (1966-1969)
6. Capaldi era (2014-)
7. McCoy era (1987-1989)
8. Eccleston era (2005)
9. Hartnell era (1963-1966)
10. Tennant era (2005-2009)
11. Colin Baker era (1984-1986)

I should say there are no eras of the show I really dislike, just as I don’t dislike any of the Doctors. I’m in the awkward position of having Colin Baker as my second favourite Doctor but liking his era the least — that’s because, while I absolutely adored his interpretation of the Doctor, the stories he was given were generally sub-par compared to the rest of the show, without being bad as such.

I started with William Hartnell, the original. I enjoyed his stories, and I enjoyed watching Hartnell himself. Hartnell clearly put a lot into that character, as the First Doctor is always a pleasure to watch, especially in his first season. The Hartnell era (particularly Season 1) is perhaps the most experimental in the show’s history, as the production team were working with a completely blank slate, and it’s a privilege to watch the show trying different things, testing its strengths, shaping itself. To my mind, Season 1 of Doctor Who is a straight run of classics (apart from episodes 2-4 of An Unearthly Child), and certainly one of the best ever seasons of Who; despite the low-rent production, it has all aged exceptionally well (which cannot be said for many serials in later eras). Seasons 2 and 3 (and 4) didn’t meet the consistent quality that Season 1 had achieved, but there are still a spattering of gems throughout, albeit among a lot of rubbish as well. The Doctor’s companions, especially Ian and Barbara (although Vicki is an all-time favourite of mine), are all great, lovable characters who made the Hartnell era even more enjoyable. The First Doctor himself is a compelling and interesting character, and it is fascinating to watch the Doctor transition over his era from a cantankerous, resolute recluse who seemed to desire only to be left alone into the character we know as the Doctor today, the renegade Time Lord determined to fight evil and injustice in the universe wherever he finds it.

Patrick Troughton’s era I just found great, walloping fun. The stories in the Troughton era are uncomplicated monster-of-the-week runarounds, commonly in the “base-under-siege” style. There’s nothing wrong with that: I know plenty of fans regret the poor scripts and simplistic stories of the Troughton era, but if you can just enjoy these stories for what they are, as I was able to do, Troughton can be marvellously fun. Even rather pedestrian scripts that would seem utterly silly and juvenile in, say, Season 26, like The Dominators, can be great fun if you appreciate them for what they are and just allow yourself to be absorbed by the story. In any case, the Troughton era has its fair share of undisputed classics, such as The Power of the Daleks, The Moonbase, The Evil of the Daleks, The Tomb of the Cybermen, The Enemy of the World, The Web of Fear, The Mind Robber, The Invasion, The Seeds of Death and The War Games, despite many episodes being regrettably missing. Troughton had a succession of great companions: Ben & Polly, Jamie McCrimmon, Victoria Waterfield and Zoe Heriot. Jamie is an all-time fandom favourite, and, for me, the team of the Second Doctor, Jamie and Zoe is one of the most memorable and definitive TARDIS teams of all. The Second Doctor is played superbly all throughout his era by Patrick Troughton, who is easily the best actor to play the role in the classic run, and gives his all to the role. Troughton is an absolute joy to watch, and if he doesn’t significantly elevate the quality of his stories, no one does.

Jon Pertwee’s era is my favourite era of the classic show. Like the preceding era, it’s great fun, but with some distinctive aspects: namely, the earthbound stories and prominence of UNIT. When I had reached the Pertwee era, my initial reaction was “Oh great, a whole era of stories set on Earth. How unexciting.” What’s the point of a show about a man who can travel anywhere in time and space if he never leaves the Home Counties? However, I enjoyed the earthbound dynamic much more than I thought I would. I really grew fond of the “UNIT family” of the Brigadier, Liz Shaw/Jo Grant/Sarah-Jane Smith, Benton and Yates, who are all fabulous characters played well by great actors. The idea of having the Doctor marooned on Earth working for UNIT could easily have misfired, but it is pulled off superlatively, so much so that it’s my favourite era of the classic show, even if Pertwee himself is not one of my favourite Doctors. The Pertwee era, for me, is a long run of mostly high quality stories, which I only truly began to appreciate when I got to later eras of the show where such high quality writing and production became less commonplace. The Pertwee era gave us three classic, fondly-remembered companions — the Brigadier, Jo Grant and Sarah-Jane Smith — as well as the enduring enemy of the Master, and a whole host of great, classic stories.

The Tom Baker era, as fans know, is when Doctor Who reached its zenith in terms of popularity and presence in the public consciousness. Indeed, the first few seasons of Tom Baker are, to my mind, Doctor Who at its consistent best. The run of stories from The Ark in Space to The Sun Makers is an unbroken succession of 20 of the most memorable stories in the show’s history, with an abnormally high concentration of outright classics. It is an era when the show was simply getting it so right all the time. It also helps a great deal that Tom Baker is the most compelling portrayal of the character yet and since, an enigmatic, magnetic, and totally alien character by whom you simply can’t help but be mesmerised. Tom Baker’s companions were all memorable, even K9, although the Doctor looked a little put out in Logopolis surrounded by Tegan, Nyssa and Adric (missing Romana, one guesses; and yes, I totally ship them). The era began to lose its way in its fifth season, the Key to Time saga, and never recovers the glittering heights of Seasons 12-15, but even the latter stories of the Tom Baker era are generally higher quality than most of what came afterwards. There are still a smattering of great stories in these later seasons of the era, such as The Pirate Planet, The Stones of Blood, City of Death, Full Circle, The Keeper of Traken and Logopolis. Additionally, Shada, had it been completed, would easily have been one of the gleaming high-points of the show on par with The Caves of Androzani and City of Death, and, in the modern series, with Blink.

Like, Pertwee’s era, I enjoyed Peter Davison’s era far more than I anticipated, as I did the Fifth Doctor himself. The Davison era started uneasily, but soon found its rhythm. From Kinda onwards, the stories are generally quality, with the odd clunker here and there (*cough* Terminus *cough*). In Davison’s era, one can definitely sense the difference between John Nathan-Turner’s stewardship and previous eras of the show, not least in the adoption of silly “uniforms” for the Doctor, the exclusive use of tinny synthesizer music, and the marked difference in tone and feel (creepy gothic horror out, floodlit spaceships and other indistinguishable sets in). Davison’s companions are one unfortunate aspect of his era: while I personally like Nyssa, and Adric eventually grew on me, Tegan is annoying and awful (the stereotypical antipodeanity of her character was exaggerated to cringing point; she seemed to be able to talk only in cliches; and her constant cynical moaning must have sorely tried the Doctor’s seemingly infinite reasonableness and patience), and Turlough is a cowardly git, although he, at least, improves. In any case, the Doctor often seemed to be left somewhat overwhelmed by the number of hangers-on following him everywhere, getting in his way as he tries to save the universe. The balance is only rectified when Peri joined the Doctor at the end of Planet of Fire, but only for one story (what a great one it was, though). Over the course of his era, Davison himself became one of my favourite Doctors. Once I looked past the silly cricket whites he never took off, the Fifth Doctor was actually a highly engaging interpretation of the character, the original “old man in a young man’s body” Doctor. Davison developed and modified his Doctor’s characterisation over his three seasons, finally perfecting it in his final season, having gone from irritating youthful enthusiasm to gruff and world-weary, yet still unfailingly polite (which I find much more interesting).

Colin Baker, as I’ve said is my favourite Doctor of the classic era, and my second favourite Doctor of all, but whose era is my least favourite. From my perspective, Colin had one classic story (The Two Doctors), four other above average stories (Vengeance on Varos, Revelation of the Daleks, Mindwarp, The Ultimate Foe), and the rest were all either average or bad. Colin’s era began badly in The Twin Dilemma, but picked up in Vengeance on Varos and put out a couple of decent, even good stories that nevertheless fly under the radar as a result of the unremarkable stories that surrounded them. The Trial of a Time Lord was a great misfire which nevertheless has its great, even inspired moments, but ultimately falls flat. I think the problem was that Doctor Who, by then, had become too repetitive and samey; the right thing to do when Colin took over was to take the show in a completely new direction, preferably darker and more grown-up, to match the Sixth Doctor’s character (which was eventually done with McCoy), rather than to keep making more of the same. It does seem, in any case, as though the writers had begun to run out of ideas in Colin’s era: the scripts seem lazy and half-arsed, not to mention unimaginative. None of this, of course, was Colin’s fault. It seemed Colin was much more enthusiastic about the show than either JNT or the writers; he had big plans for his very interesting interpretation of the character, and was unabashed about his desire to surpass Tom Baker’s record of seven seasons playing the Doctor, and played the character himself with such zeal and conviction. For his commitment, he was unceremoniously and unfairly sacked by the BBC bigwigs (it really should have been JNT, who had done all he could and actually wanted to go). Colin’s is an era of missed opportunities, although not necessarily bad in itself: if you look hard enough, you can find things in this era as great as in any.

Sylvester McCoy’s era constituted something of a rebirth for the show, a rebirth that had been sorely needed. In the first place, though, the McCoy era started with the “silly season”, Season 24. A lot of fans deride Season 24 as an all-time low for Doctor Who before a glorious regeneration, but it can be quite enjoyable if, like Patrick Troughton’s era, you enjoy it for what it is; both Paradise Towers and Delta and the Bannermen are decent and enjoyable enough stories in their own right. However, the great u-turn that the show took in the following season was a positive development: I regard Remembrance of the Daleks and The Greatest Show in the Galaxy as masterpieces both; the latter in particular is an astonishingly creative and exciting exemplar of what the show could have become if it had been allowed to continue. Season 26 continued the new darker, more mature direction, with The Curse of Fenric a parting high-point. We know that it was all too little too late, but the final two seasons of the McCoy era are arguably the most creative storytelling the show has done since Season 1. My opinion of McCoy’s era is only slightly diminished by the fact that, despite his odd moments of glory, I found the Seventh Doctor a rather boring and unengaging Doctor. Ace, on the other hand, was a very interesting and engaging companion, easily the most developed companion of the whole classic run, and the unprecedented focus on Ace’s character prototypes the companion-centred storyelling of New Who.

So now, at the close of the classic segment of my 50-year marathon, my “favourite Doctors” list stands something like this:

1. Matt Smith
2. Colin Baker
3. Tom Baker
4. Peter Davison
5. Christopher Eccleston
6. David Tennant
7. Paul McGann
8. Peter Capaldi
9. Jon Pertwee
10. Patrick Troughton
11. William Hartnell
12. Sylvester McCoy

As Whovians know fully well, one’s personal “favourite Doctors” list is subject to constant change, even after one has long seen everything there is to see of Doctor Who. I’m sure mine will continue changing, especially as Paul McGann has been rapidly shooting up my list the more I hear of him on audio. My rewatching of Eccleston and Tennant in the New Who segment of my marathon may yet change my opinions of them (Matt Smith has no chance of being dislodged from the top spot). In addition, Peter Capaldi also has the potential to make it much higher, come Series 9.

Quickie reviews of Series 8 episodes

Deep Breath

An engaging introductory episode to Peter Capaldi’s era. Capaldi’s Doctor was established well, and there were some great scenes portraying Twelve’s post-regeneration disorientation (the scene with the tramp in a back alley). It seemed to drag a bit, and much of the first half was unnecessary padding. There was some quite cringeworthy infantile humour in the first half, I imagine attempting to reassure fans of Matt Smith’s era “Yes we’re going in a darker and more serious direction with Capaldi, but it’ll still be fun, see!” I think they overcompensated to be honest; the comic relief was at a level the show hasn’t revisited since the farting Slitheen in Series 1. I’m not a great fan of the Paternoster Gang, to be honest, who just seem to be there for the kids, although I understand why they were included in Deep Breath — surround the alien, unfamiliar new Doctor with familiar old faces, and create a sense of stability, like the producers did in Spearhead From Space with the Brigadier and UNIT when “rebooting” the show with Pertwee and a new companion.

Deep Breath vastly improved in the second half, though, when something actually started happening. The scenes with Clara trapped beneath the restaurant pretending to be a clockwork droid, and subsequently being interrogated by the Half Face Man, are truly scary, gripping, edge-of-seat stuff. The Doctor’s dramatic entrance to rescue Clara was one of those brilliant, fist-pumping “Doctor” moments on par with Matt Smith’s confrontation with the Atraxi in The Eleventh Hour, or Eccleston’s “Everybody lives!” moment in The Doctor Dances. Although Deep Breath could have benefited from being condensed to a normal 40-minute timeframe, cutting out much of the padding in the first half, the excellence of the second half more than made up for the meandering first half, and I can’t bring myself to give the episode anything less than 9/10.

Rating: 9/10.

Into the Dalek

Although this one somewhat divided opinion among the fandom, I thought it was a quality episode. It further developed the running theme of who the latest incarnation of the Doctor is, and, ultimately, whether the Doctor was a good man. A lot of fans get tired of this theme, which, admittedly, has been ongoing since the new series began in 2005 (Into the Dalek largely repeats the same themes as Dalek), but, for my part, I never grow tired of it, because it puts the compelling question of “Who is the Doctor?”, this familiar yet mysterious figure whom we actually know very little about, at the heart of the show. It can become excessive of course, but I largely think the writers have succeeded in keeping the theme fresh and interesting after all this time.

In this episode, we learned more about who the Twelfth Doctor was — a Doctor less equivocal about taking morally questionable measures in pursuit of his ends. I think his callous facilitation of Ross’ death for his own purposes came as something of a slap in the face for viewers used to a Doctor who sought to save every life he could. Rusty’s finding the Doctor’s hatred of the Daleks when the Doctor attempted to meld his consciousness with Rusty effectively left us asking the question of who the Doctor was, as a person. Is he a hero? Are heroes driven by hatred? That said, this episode could have been produced better. I’m especially not particularly taken with the extra characters, who seemed an eminently unmemorable and unlikable lot. A lot of fans adored Journey Blue and wanted her to be taken on as a new companion, but, personally, I don’t really care for her. One po-faced miser per TARDIS, I think.

Rating: 8/10.

Robot of Sherwood

I wasn’t particularly looking forwards to this episode beforehand — the concept seemed very unimaginative and didn’t much inspire me, and I assumed Robot of Sherwood was the obligatory early-series “filler” episode (see The Curse of the Black Spot, The Shakespeare Code, The Power of Three, etc.), and, to an extent, it was. Robin Hood and rubbish robots isn’t exactly the stuff of Who classics. Nevertheless, I enjoyed this episode more than I expected to. Peter Capaldi’s acting brought this whole episode up in quality: the Doctor’s spoonfight with Robin Hood and the hilarious exchange between the Doctor and Hood in the dungeon were great, memorable scenes. Jenna Coleman was also great in this episode; Clara’s scene having dinner with King John was some sparkling dialogue and characterisation for the character. The episode also ended on a very contemplative note regarding the-Doctor-as-legend.

However, I do have some problems with this episode. It did, as many fans remarked, seem like it was a hangover from the Matt Smith era. It had the Smith era “fairytale” feel, and it was all very camp and self-consciously unrealistic. The Las Vegas medieval feel of it all, like a Laurence Olivier Shakespeare film, and the fact that Robin Hood and his merry men conformed precisely to their folk legend, storybook depictions, felt out of place in what was supposed to be the grittier, darker Capaldi era. Were I to produce that episode (and I know I’m being very presumptuous and impertinent here, but bear with me), I should have made Robin Hood and his men more realistic — perhaps Robin Hood was actually an unscrupulous highwayman with delusions of moral rightness, perhaps the monk was a very un-monkish exile from the Church, perhaps the rest of Robin Hood’s band were, in reality, similar flawed, somewhat disagreeable characters? This would better suit the episode’s apparent theme of the reality not necessarily being reflected in the “legend” (although feeding into it), and I think the producers rather missed a trick here by making everything look like a Robin Hood children’s storybook, or a 1930s Robin Hood Hollywood film. It was a decent enough story for what it was, but I think I would have liked this one more if it were gritty realism rather than the very unrealistic, romantic Merlin-esque portrayal of Robin Hood and his era that it was.

Rating: 7/10.

Listen

I’ll start by saying I loved the idea of this story. Creatures which have perfected hiding, which constantly stalk us, listening to us, showing themselves only to the last remnants of life in the universe; creatures which may or may not be the product of the overactive imaginations of frightened humanity; an allegory for that most primal of human instincts — fear. Just describing it makes me sit up, intrigued. Indeed, many have hailed Listen as a classic on par with its forerunner, Blink. To be sure, it is a good story. The scene in which the Doctor is alone in the TARDIS letting his paranoia run away with him (or maybe not?) is seriously captivating, ominous stuff, as are the scenes in little Danny Pink’s bedroom and Orson Pink’s space shuttle — some of the most hair-raising sequences Who has ever made.

However, despite these excellent triumphs of production, Listen is somewhat ruined for me by the preoccupation with Danny Pink, a character I don’t particularly care for. The episode’s continuous returning to Clara and Danny’s dinner date is intrusive and breaks the eerie, foreboding atmosphere the episode has built up. The episode would have been so much better as a straight, self-contained story concerning itself with the creatures (or lack thereof) in question, without preoccupying itself with Clara’s personal life and the past and future selves of Danny Pink. It all felt oddly-paced and disjointed. For these reasons, while I agree that the concept and idea behind Listen is nothing short of inspired, I can’t agree that Listen is a classic on par with Blink. After a rewatch recently the episode didn’t improve for me, so I’m resigned that it will remain, in my estimation, a story that could have been a classic but didn’t quite make it, a great missed opportunity.

In regards to the scene in which Clara comforts the frightened little Doctor in the barn, indirectly creating the Doctor as we know him, the scene didn’t bother me as much as it did others (the scene itself was beautiful), but I’m still a little unhappy about it, partly because it somewhat conflicts with a bit of personal headcanon about the Doctor’s origins, and partly because, like others have complained, Clara is given too much agency and importance in the Doctor’s life.

Rating: 8/10.

Time Heist

Time Heist was somewhat talked up before it was broadcast… I remember reading that it was supposed to be the “biggest” story of series 8 (or words to that effect), so I had fairly high expectations. Indeed, I thought it was an excellently composed standalone story. I echo the words I read in another review, i.e. that Time Heist is such a brilliant, yet simple idea (the Doctor robs an ultra-secure intergalactic bank), how has it not been done before? In the idea contains the basis of a Who classic, and there is definitely a lot to like in this story. The Teller was a fascinating, frightening creature, the perfect monster for a bank heist story like this. The characters, Psi and (especially) Saibra, were well written and endearing. I also liked this figure who had been conjured up to guide the bank robbers through the heist, the Architect; his identity, in the end, was rather predictable, but the viewer was still effectively kept wondering what exactly had been going on. I was more interested in finding out what this was all about, and who the Architect was, than necessarily seeing the group overcome the various obstacles in the bank. I wondered whether the Doctor would find in his vault the co-ordinates to Gallifrey, but, of course, that would have been slightly wishful thinking.

I was a bit let down by the resolution to these various mysteries — the Doctor’s being the Architect, who choreographed this heist at the behest of an aged Madame Karabraxos to free the Teller and his mate. I was expecting something more… significant… I hadn’t yet cottoned onto the fact that the serialised arc-heavy storytelling of Series 6 that I enjoyed so much had been largely abandoned, and that RTD-style standalone stories were all we were going to get from now on. Nevertheless, as a standalone, self-contained story, it is a great episode. My main criticisms would be with the production: we didn’t really get a sense of the alleged sheer impregnability of the Bank of Karabraxos, it all just seemed a bit too easy. Perhaps this story could have benefited from being a two-parter spending more time following the group as they progress deeper into the bank and emphasising the obstacles they need to overcome. Furthermore, a lot of time was spent in fairly nondescript corridors — surely the producers could have been more creative with the settings? Visually, apart from the Teller, this episode was fairly unremarkable. That’s not entirely the producers’ fault, I understand Doctor Who suffered a budget cut this series, but the episode doesn’t rank visually alongside other stories in the series like Kill the Moon, Mummy on the Orient Express or In the Forest of the Night. Unfortunately, for these reasons, Time Heist doesn’t quite make it out of “good” and into “brilliant” territory; it will be remembered as a good story that, had more been put into it, could have been a great deal better.

Rating: 8/10.

The Caretaker

Just like Listen was the Capaldi era’s answer to Blink, The Caretaker was its answer to The Lodger. Like The Lodger, The Caretaker sees the Doctor assume the guise of a “normal” human and attempt to navigate his way in normal human society. While there were some great moments in The Caretaker, I don’t think it quite lived up to its forerunner. While The Lodger was genuinely creepy and found the right balance of comedy and substantive plot, the “threat” in The Caretaker, a poorly conceived and eminently forgettable generic robot thingy with a silly name, was little more than a convenient plot device, the story being preoccupied with the confrontation of the Doctor and Danny. To be sure, this confrontation was well played out — it emphasised the rivalry between these two men in Clara’s life as well as the Doctor’s arrogance and snobbery. The Doctor and Danny’s argument in the TARDIS was a sparkling sequence of writing and acting from all involved.

Something that bugged me about this episode was the Doctor’s display of prejudice and outright loathing towards Danny upon finding out he was a soldier. The Doctor’s anti-soldier prejudice, first established in this episode and continued in later ones, is something completely new. The only thing that comes close is Ten’s attitude towards the UNIT soldiers in The Sontaran Stratagem/The Poison Sky, and even that was fairly mild compared to Twelve’s positive contempt for Danny (Ten worked alongside UNIT after all, even if he didn’t approve of their methods; Twelve isn’t even prepared to countenance that Danny might be a suitable boyfriend for Clara). As I’ve said before, I feel the injection of anti-soldier prejudice in Twelve is a baffling and poor instance of characterisation.

Unfortunately the plot felt underdeveloped, and the whole thing felt a bit like a filler. However, the story has some redeeming features in the comedy of the Doctor’s going undercover in Coal Hill School, and the dialogue (generally) between the Doctor and Danny. In any case, it was enjoyable enough to watch; its faults didn’t distract the viewer from being able to enjoy the story for what it was.

Rating: 7/10.

Kill the Moon

Kill the Moon was another story that divided opinion among fans. I was jolly impressed upon my first watch, but I have to admit it doesn’t quite stand up to a rewatch. There’s a great deal to like about the story — the plot was gripping, the setting was magnificent, the characters were well-written, those spiders were genuinely terrifying, and the twist was dumbfounding. This is probably the most visually-appealing episode of series 8, or at least the episode with the most visually superior setting. While the “the moon is an egg” thing infuriated a large chunk of the fandom, it didn’t bother me at all. I know it’s rubbish science — that was pretty obvious — but Doctor Who is telling a story, not making a documentary: it’s science fiction, the operative word being fiction. As long as the explanation offered seems to make sense and doesn’t resort to magic or the supernatural, I’m not bothered, and it doesn’t reduce my enjoyment of the story one iota. In fact, I liked the premise of the twist, that the moon is an egg containing an enormous winged creature which the people of Earth had to decide whether or not to kill.

As for the Doctor’s behaviour, leaving Clara and Lundvik to make their decision, I was on the Doctor’s side at first, but I’ve since come over to Clara’s side in that particular conflict. The Doctor didn’t need to take charge of the situation, but he could at least have helped, or given his advice or a push in the right direction. He needn’t have cut Clara totally adrift like that. That said, I agree with those who think Clara overreacted afterwards. In any case, it has since become obvious that that particular incident was supposed to be a catalyst for character development. It was supposed to make the Doctor come to the realisation that the Earth is the Doctor’s home, too, as he said in In the Forest of the Night. One can see where the Doctor was coming from — he learnt from his “Time Lord Victorious” antics in The Waters of Mars, knowing to anticipate that making profound decisions that aren’t his to make can have disastrous, unforeseen consequences. In any case, whatever one thinks of the respective behaviour of the Doctor and Clara, is it not exhilarating to see the Doctor’s relationship with his companion challenged to an unprecedented extent?

Rating: 7/10.

Mummy on the Orient Express

I have only good things to say about this story. First of all, I love that it was basically inspired by the idea of the Doctor finally responding to that invitation he received over a thousand years ago. I suppose that’s the reality of being the Doctor: he puts something down to go do something else and doesn’t come back to it until hundreds of years later. This story was brilliant in every way: brilliantly written, brilliantly directed, brilliantly acted. One might think that a rampaging mummy on the Orient Express in space is a bit of a corny idea for a story, but it is a perfect self-contained story with a terrifying adversary. The mummy was, indeed, seriously realistic and seriously frightening, which itself improves the quality of the whole story (an unconvincing villain makes for an unconvincing story, after all). The episode was superbly paced, and had a well-realised atmosphere of tenseness, conspiracy and urgency. The supporting characters were terrifically written and acted, especially Perkins the engineer. The musical entertainment, provided by Foxes, was definitely a musical high point of Who in general. This episode was also amazing aesthetically: the painstaking faithfulness to the period look was very effective, and Clara was particularly gorgeous in that bob cut.

I was intrigued by the development of the Twelfth Doctor’s characterisation in this episode. His using the deaths of the various passengers to observe the mummy and discover more about it, and ultimately how to defeat it, was an intriguing aspect of characterisation showcasing how the Twelfth Doctor can be callous and unfeeling in the course of attempting to save people. His predecessors, especially Tennant’s Doctor, might have taken a dim view of such methods. At the same time, the Doctor’s actions showed to Clara that the Doctor really is a good man, ultimately trying to do good.

Overall this was a superlative episode, and, to my mind, an undoubted classic.

Rating: 10/10.

Flatline

Flatline is an episode which definitely benefits from a rewatch. The first time I saw it, I was impressed, to be sure, but I didn’t feel “blown away” like I do when I see “classics” or “almost-classics”, for example how I felt when I saw the preceding episode, Mummy on the Orient Express. Which bothered me because all I heard from elsewhere was unanimous lauding of Flatline as a modern masterpiece. I couldn’t see what I was missing. I revisited it again some time later, and I think I begin to see the great appeal of Flatline. It’s a story which benefits from being put in perspective and considered holistically, as the sum of its parts. First there’s the gimmick of trapping the Doctor inside a tiny TARDIS, forcing Clara to assume the role of the Doctor. It’s an amusing and intriguing playing out of a “what if” situation — i.e. what if Clara was the Doctor? To those that were complaining about Series 8 being too much “Clara Who” (of which I am one), I think they were pleasantly surprised to find that Clara Who for real is… actually quite good. Clara takes to her new role with a masterful ease and adeptness that even impresses the Doctor. This experience forms a quality instance of character development for Clara as she comes to understand what being the Doctor really entails, and, importantly, why the Doctor acts the way he does.

I think the main appeal of this episode was the baddies, the so-called “Boneless”, creatures that reside in two dimensions, who “invade” the third dimension to attempt to understand it (supposedly). This is inspired, high-concept stuff, realised terrifyingly onscreen by creepy, malformed bodies materialising out of the earth and slithering menacingly like the living dead. There was a particularly eerie moment when the Doctor and Clara were trying to communicate with the creatures using the loud speakers, and heard a macabre high-pitched tremolo, like a message from some arcane alien intelligence from beyond the stars. The “Boneless” are a classic new monster from Series 8, and I’m definitely excited to see more of them and find out more about them.

While Clara was obviously superb in this episode, the Doctor, although taking a “recessive” role in this story, was also on top form. The moment when he emerged from the TARDIS, restored to full size, at the end of the episode to repel the Boneless, was a brilliant, furious coup de grâce. It was one of those spine-chilling, hair-standing-on-end moments when you can only stand in awe of the Doctor. For me, this was Capaldi’s “I am the Doctor” moment all Doctors (at least all modern Doctors) have when they first convince the audience, and themselves, that they are the Doctor. There was Matt Smith’s confrontation with the Atraxi in The Eleventh Hour (“Basically… run.”) and Tennant’s confrontation with the Sycorax in The Christmas Invasion. For me, this was Capaldi’s moment. Like in The Christmas Invasion, the fact that the Doctor was more or less absent for most of the episode made the moment when he finally appeared and repulsed the baddies so much more satisfying.

Rating: 9/10.

In the Forest of the Night

I don’t share the vitriol directed towards this episode by some sections of the fandom. Admittedly, it was easily the most mediocre episode of Series 8. It had an absurd plot and a platitudinous resolution. The concept was ridiculous, the science was embarrassingly rubbish, the creatures (tree spirits?) were confusing, and the supporting characters (i.e. the children, apart from perhaps Maebh), again, an embarrassment. As well as this, this story felt like it belonged, again, to the “fairytale” Matt Smith era, or even the Tennant era, with its clumsily-conveyed strong moral/social message (“live in harmony with nature”). Maebh’s being reunited with her long-lost sister, especially, felt like a hark back to similar cringe-inducing antics of the RTD era. If Robot of Sherwood felt out of place in the “darker” Capaldi era, In the Forest of the Night jars like a semitone clash.

That said, despite all that, In the Forest of the Night is nonetheless just enjoyable to watch. It is easily one of the most aesthetically beautiful episodes of Series 8 — perhaps the one area where this episode excels. In addition, the plot, while plainly ridiculous, is intriguing and interesting, and never failed to absorb me. The resolution, in which the trees act as a force field of sorts protecting the Earth against the solar flare, was admittedly absurd, but once one suspends the obligatory disbelief, it’s actually very nice and heartwarming… There are some great moments in there, for example, when the Doctor makes the tree spirits talk through Maebh (properly chilling, that), and the dialogue between the Doctor and Clara when Clara rejects his offer to save the children, or at least her (“I don’t want to be the last of my kind”). As well as this, Capaldi’s acting, again, brings up the whole quality of the episode. For all its faults, this episode is, after all, a fun, cute, entertaining little story.

Rating: 6/10.

Dark Water/Death in Heaven

The first half of this finale, Dark Water, was exceptional. To my mind, Dark Water is the closest Who has come to a masterpiece since 2005. It’s exactly the kind of dark, heavy, thematic drama I was expecting from the “darker”, more “grown-up” Capaldi era. There was so much to like: the high-charged scene atop the volcano in which Clara attempts to blackmail the Doctor, brazenly taking the Doctor-companion relationship further than ever before; the chilling investigation of the reality of death and the afterlife; the menacing revelation of the Cybermen; and Missy. The Master was brought back in terrifying style in the unsettling form of a manic, psychopathic Mary Poppins, and it was brilliant.

The second half, Death in Heaven, however, was something of a letdown from the exemplary first half. In general, it felt like a mess. Whereas the pacing and atmosphere in Dark Water was perfect, Death in Heaven seemed to flounder around quite a bit, showing plenty of action but almost abandoning the plot, or, rather, disgorging all the plot in the last ten minutes of the episode in a disconcerting crescendo. The “twist” behind Missy’s shenanigans — seemingly to put the Doctor on the spot by giving him a Cyberman army — was wholly unsatisfying and just plain confusing. The resolution, in which the Doctor gives Danny the bracelet, who orders the Cybermen to self-detonate, also didn’t seem to make sense: I didn’t understand why the Doctor couldn’t have ordered all the Cybermen to their deaths, rather than Danny.

Other problems with Death in Heaven include arguably the worst portrayal of the Cybermen yet, as unthinking automatons which march in step to a magic bracelet (and are, again, defeated by the power of love); and the confusing and completely unsatisfying resolution to the “Woman in the Shop” arc (i.e. why Missy was interested in Clara). That said, there was (just) more good than bad in this episode: both Peter Capaldi and Michelle Gomez were unfailingly brilliant, as was Ingrid Oliver as the ever-endearing Osgood; Clara’s confrontation with the Cybermen in 3W was awesome; and the Doctor’s violent rage upon discovering Missy lied to him about Gallifrey’s location was… a sight to behold, to say the least. In addition, the concluding scene in the cafe in which the Doctor and Clara “part ways” was touching. Nevertheless, it is unfortunate that the faults of Death in Heaven bring down the quality of the finale as a whole, as this one surely had the potential to be a masterpiece, as the exceptional Dark Water showed.

Rating: 8/10.

Last Christmas

Not technically a Series 8 episode, but part of 2014 Doctor Who nonetheless. I have to say, in my opinion, Last Christmas is the best Christmas special yet. Fans are used to the Christmas specials being, essentially, continuity-lite, frivolous one-off romps that are catered to the general public more so than Doctor Who fans themselves (RTD’s Christmas specials, apart from The End of Time, were all in this formula, in any case). To an extent, Last Christmas also follows this formula — it’s got Santa Claus in it, for goodness’ sake. Nevertheless, Last Christmas also departs from previous Christmas specials by being darker, scarier, more tense, and, for once, introduces an ingenious, genuinely frightening and repeatable new monster — the Dream Crabs.

The “Christmas” element is constituted by the dubious presence of Santa Claus and a couple of elves… oh, and Rudolph. For once, the Christmas element of the Christmas special doesn’t feel awkwardly shoehorned-in, despite the inclusion of Santa having the potential to be the most awkwardly-shoehorned thing of all. Of course, Santa is played brilliantly by Nick Frost, whose interpretation of Santa is a hilarious cross between a mob boss and Alfie Wickers (from Bad Education). I don’t think I’ve laughed more at a Doctor Who story than I did at Nick Frost as Santa, there are just so many great lines (the scene on Clara’s roof, “magic carrots”, “bigger on the inside”, “that’s a verbal warning”, “it’s all a bit dreamy-weamy”, etc.). The recruitment of Nick Frost was a masterstroke for this Christmas special, to be sure.

The plot itself was intriguing and gripping, to me more so than any other Christmas special. The concept of being stuck in a dream, or several dreams, was probably heavier than any other Christmas special, and it was absolutely thrilling. I loved the Inception-ness of it all. The characters were all well-written and well-realised, especially the endearing Shona. The teasing of Clara’s departure at the end of Last Christmas was an emotional merry-go-round, and perhaps the only instance where the resolution of “It was all a dream” was actually welcomed (or not, depending on your opinion of Clara). It was promising and encouraging to see Clara and the Doctor reunite with such mutual excitement and adoration at the end; it seems the Doctor and Clara are finally at ease with each other and understand each other, their relationship is in a good place, and they can finally uncomplicatedly enjoy travelling with each other and enjoy sharing each other’s company. I’ll admit I originally wanted to see Clara leave in the Christmas special, but that final scene changed my mind; I’m excited to see how their relationship has changed in Series 9. I’m reminded of the mellowing of the Sixth Doctor’s and Peri’s relationship between the end of Season 22 and Trial of a Time Lord, during which time had passed, allowing their initially spiky relationship to develop positively.

Rating: 9/10.

Doctor Who headcanon #1

As a follow-up from my previous post, this will be the first of my personal Doctor Who headcanon shares, which I intend to make a regular feature of this blog. These snippets of my fanboy imagination are inspired by the fandom “headcanon” accounts on Tumblr, e.g. this, this and this, although I intend to make mine a little less, er… Tumblr-y. So without further ado…

The Doctor really did activate the Moment and destroyed Gallifrey and all the Daleks to end the Time War in his original timeline, it was only when he subsequently went back to change events in The Day of the Doctor did the timelines diverge, or the original timeline was overwritten (depending on how you want to look at it).

Like I’ve said before, I don’t like what Moffatt and Co. did by nullifying the Doctor’s role in ending the Time War, regardless of DOTD’s quality as a self-contained feature. My adoption of this particular headcanon is my way of compromising with Moffatt: the Doctor did use the Moment to end the Time War, but he also didn’t. It’s a timey-wimey thing. Contradictory events of two timelines can co-exist at the same time, as Amy said in The Wedding of River Song:

AMY: “I killed someone, Madame Kovarian, in cold blood.”
RIVER: “In an aborted timeline, in a world that never was.”
AMY: “Yeah, but I can remember it, so it happened, so I did it.”

And in the minisode Good Night:

AMY: “When I first met you I didn’t have parents, I never had parents. And then you did whatever it was you did and rebooted the universe and suddenly I had parents, and I’ve always had parents, and I remember both lives in my head, both of them, in my head, at the same time.”
DOCTOR: “…Time is being rewritten all around us, every day. People think their memories are bad, but their memories are fine. The past is really like that.”

So, I know it probably seems like I’m breaking one of my headcanon rules with this one (Rule 6: “it wasn’t a timey-wimey thing”), but here’s an instance where show actually establishes, or at least leaves open the possibility (it’s left ambiguous as to whether the Doctor actually did use the Moment in the original timeline), that two different timelines have taken place surrounding the same events. In any case, I intended that rule to apply to “headcanoning” something out of history because one doesn’t like it without any onscreen suggestion that there was any timey-wimey business going on.

“Spare Parts” and the Cybermen

“We are human.”

“We will survive.”

Two lines from the Doctor Who audio Spare Parts that together encapsulate so perfectly and chillingly what the Cybermen are supposed to be. Spare Parts, an origins story of the Cybermen featuring the Fifth Doctor and Nyssa, is a tragic tale of a small, dying human population on Earth’s twin planet, Mondas, who will go to almost any terrible measures in their desperation to survive. Spare Parts interprets the Cybermen’s origins on Mondas to be the story of the Mondasians, driven underground as their planet’s drift far away from the orbit of any sun made the surface of their planet uninhabitable, who, seemingly doomed to extinction, resort to “augmenting” their bodies with artificial, cybernetic parts to survive.

A masterpiece, Spare Parts is perhaps more compelling and genuinely frightening a Cybermen story than any shown on the television series, and certainly the most faithful to Kit Pedler’s vision for the Cybermen. It is worth saying that, in my estimation, the Cybermen have not been done exactly right on television since their first story, The Tenth Planet. After the 1960s, Cybermen stories rather lost the plot altogether, and New Who has never even come close. That’s because it’s so easy to forget what the Cybermen are supposed to be — something Spare Parts attempts to return to, and does so spectacularly.

The Cybermen are usually presented as evil killer robots, robot Daleks with legs. Certainly, it’s difficult to get any other impression from today’s stomping automatons in their Iron Man suits. There’s two things wrong with the I, Robot interpretation of the Cybermen: Cybermen are not robots, and they’re not evil. Cybermen are us, as Spare Parts sought to emphasise. “We are human,” as the Cyber Planner in Spare Parts chillingly put it. The Cybermen are supposed to be tragic. We are supposed to look at them and see ourselves in them, and see what we could become. The Cybermen are not the product of some mad scientist  who tried to create a race of perfect killers, as the Daleks are; they are what became of a human population who, in their desperation to survive, sacrificed so much of their humanity that they now blur the line between man and machine. The Cybermen are as much a warning and a “dark mirror” as they are a villain. The Cybermen are terrifying because they are essentially human, because they are still recognisable as us, and the emphasis on the humanity of the Cybermen in Spare Parts achieves this impression very successfully, such as in a particularly affecting scene in which a young girl who has endeared herself to us goes back to her horrified family after being partially processed into a Cyberman.

Furthermore, the Cybermen are not evil. They are not the Daleks. Their objective isn’t to take over the universe or eliminate inferior races. They have removed their human emotions and impulses, and are slaves to absolute logic. Their primary motivation is to survive. Although, since they make no distinction between themselves once they are cyber-processed, the Cybermen seek to perpetuate their kind by converting other human populations into Cybermen (and at the same time “freeing” those poor souls).

For these reasons, I think the Cybermen have the potential to be the scariest Who villain of all, certainly much scarier than the comparatively one-dimensional Daleks (who are nevertheless always good fun). But, portray the Cybermen as the pantomime villains they usually are, and, ironically, you disregard what makes them uniquely scary and, in fact, make them seem more corny than anything.

Apart from returning to the roots and original conception of the Cybermen very successfully, Spare Parts is an exceptionally well-composed audio story in its own right. There are a number of well-realised characters (which makes it all the more tragic when they are converted into Cybermen), and Nyssa is written very well. The mood is ominous from the very beginning, and the rising sense of crisis keeps the listener hooked all the way through, quickening into a dramatic crescendo at the end. From my personal perspective, the one thing I would have changed about the story would have been to have the population of Mondas voluntarily, and resignedly, convert themselves into fully-processed Cybermen in submission to the inescapable reality that doing so is a necessity for their survival — rather than be deceived, and then coerced, into doing so by the whim of the Central Committee/Cyber Planner. I think the former would have impressed more effectively the sense of utter desperation that birthed the Cybermen, bringing home the tragedy of the story. Nevertheless, Spare Parts is certainly a masterpiece of drama and science fiction, and undoubtedly deserves a place among the Doctor Who classics.

On a female Doctor and sex-change regeneration

The regeneration of the Master into Missy has brought to the fore debate over the prospect of a female Doctor. The debate among the fandom about whether the Doctor should one day regenerate into a female form onscreen has been as vociferous as any debate about UNIT dating, whether Susan named the TARDIS, or whether or not Adric was an annoying tit. It was first established that sex changes for Time Lords were possible when the Eleventh Doctor remarked in The Doctor’s Wife that another Time Lord, the Corsair, had regenerated into a woman “a couple of times”. Subsequently, in The Night of the Doctor, the Sisterhood of Karn divulged to the Eighth Doctor that, with their “elevated” Time Lord science, they could bring about a controlled regeneration, even to change him into a female. Now that a major male Time Lord character has been shown onscreen to have regenerated into a woman, the prospect of a female Doctor has become more real than ever.

Personally, while I thought the Master’s sex change was very successful, and while I’m not completely closed to the idea of a female Doctor, I do have significant reservations. For one, I think portraying the Doctor as a female would be incongruous with the essential nature of the character. The Doctor, to me, is an intrinsically male character — not overtly or stereotypically male in that he’s some kind of chest-beating ape, but still very much a masculine character. Paul Verhoeven explains it well. He’s a father figure to the universe, a defensive and loving dad. It’s clear he sees himself in a very paternal way — he feels he has an obligation to look after the universe, to protect his charges from bullies and meanies of all sorts, to step in and give a helping hand, as a father should. He loves and is loved by the universe as a fatherly protector.

As well as this, there’s my personal subjective preference for the Doctor to remain a male character. I’ve come to love this character, the Doctor, independent of any of his individual incarnations. When I think of the Doctor, no individual incarnation springs immediately to mind, but I think of a number of essential traits that make this overarching character, this person, who he is: heroic, principled, selfless, eccentric, lonely, mysterious — and a man. I very much get the feeling that, throughout his various incarnations, despite looking and feeling different after each regeneration, the Doctor remains the same person, and it’s very important to me, for my investment in the character, that the Doctor always feels like the same person. To an extent, at least, I’d feel that the Doctor had become a different person if the Doctor were to become a woman. After thirteen or however many incarnations as a man, I think I’d feel that I couldn’t recognise a female Doctor as the character I knew and loved; that a female actor is likely to depart in a fundamental way from how the character has been portrayed in the past would only exacerbate this feeling. Think of it as if a loved one or a very old and dear friend suddenly decided to get a sex change. After the operation and after that person has assumed their new identity, I think most people would feel that, although that person bears a resemblance to the person they used to be in many ways, it would be as though the person one knew and loved had essentially gone, or at least changed to the point of unfamiliarity. That’s because sex is not just biological happenstance — the sex organs you happen to possess — it is a fundamental part of what makes a person who they are.

All that said, I said I’m not completely closed to the idea. Although I have my reservations, I’m willing to be open-minded, and consider any proposal for a female Doctor on its merits. If a female were to be cast as the Doctor, I’d certainly watch with an open (even interested) mind and be willing to embrace the change. I could very well be wrong: a female Doctor might not be as incongruous as I expect, and I might identify with her as recognisably the character I love. At the same time, I think my reservations are legitimate, and I can’t help but be sceptical and respectfully opposed to the idea. However, I think it may, at least, be worth road-testing the concept of a female Doctor in a one-off episode in which the Doctor inadvertently turns into a female for the duration of the episode. The way the Doctor, as a female, relates to his/her dumbfounded companions would be worth watching, although I think the idea might have worked better with Matt Smith’s Doctor (with the Ponds) than with Peter Capaldi’s: I can imagine Twelve turning into worse-than-everybody’s-aunt, played by Judi Dench or Maggie Smith.

Sex-change regeneration

There’s also the more academic matter of in what circumstances Time Lords can regenerate into the opposite sex. Personally, I’d rather that it not be established canonically that regeneration is completely random with regards to sex, and that Time Lords are equally likely to regenerate into the opposite sex as remain the same. That is, I don’t want it to be established that Time Lords, as one participant in such a debate amusingly put it, are a race of bisexual gender-fluid sequential hermaphrodites. That’s not because I’m a bigot, it just blatantly contradicts all history of portrayal of Time Lords on the programme, and would seem like a liberty taken with the canon for narrow political reasons, as a way of championing transsexualism.

The evidence is that one Time Lord, the Master, has regenerated into a woman after more than one regeneration cycle of being a man. All the other Time Lords we’ve seen have always regenerated into the same sex, with one offscreen exception (the Corsair). This doesn’t exactly suggest that regeneration is completely random with regard to sex. Furthermore, it hasn’t even been established that the Master’s latest female incarnation was the result of regeneration; given that the Master has a history of stealing bodies, and that his last body in The End of Time was basically an imperfectly reanimated corpse in a state of irreversible decay, it can’t be discounted, without further clarification, that Missy’s body was also stolen in the same way he stole the body of Tremas on Traken.

So sex-change regeneration is possible, but, until it is established otherwise, it can be assumed it is anomalous or unusual, rather than the norm. Personally I entertain three theories (which are not mutually exclusive) as to the circumstances in which Time Lords can regenerate into the opposite sex. The first is that same-sex regeneration is the norm, and that opposite-sex regeneration is a very rare, freak occurrence. The second is that, when Time Lords can control their regeneration (as Romana and the Master, and even the Doctor, it is implied, have been shown to be capable of doing), they can, if they have a sufficient degree of control, choose to regenerate into the opposite sex. As to why the Doctor’s regenerations have always (thus far) been random, I expect he either doesn’t know how (perhaps he snoozed through that class in the Academy), or doesn’t care enough, to control his regeneration. My third theory is that there needs to be an external influence on the regeneration to bring about a sex change, such as the potions the Sisterhood of Karn offered to the Eighth Doctor to control his regeneration. The three theories are not mutually exclusive, but the point is that sex-change regeneration at least seems to be unusual, and that some explanation is needed.