An Hour of Who a Day

September 8: "The Haunting of Villa Diodati"

Promotional photo for "The Haunting of Villa Diodati" (from BBC One -
Doctor Who, The Haunting of Villa Diodati gallery) ©BBC

Oh hey, another pre-titles sequence!

"The Haunting of Villa Diodati" is cowritten by new Doctor Who writer Maxine Alderton, known mostly for her work on the soap Emmerdale. This story takes us to Switzerland 1816, on the night when Mary Shelley first came up with the idea for Frankenstein²⁹³ -- except it seems things aren't going quite as history claimed, even before the arrival of Team TARDIS...

I have to say, the first couple times I watched this I don't think I gave it the credit it deserves; part of the issue is that for a while it's four or five people (famous people!) standing around talking, and while they're saying interesting things and being generally enjoyable company, it can take a bit to really get into -- at which point the appearance of the Lone Cyberman throws everything off-kilter. Suddenly we've shifted from a story concerning just this episode to the larger story arc first hinted at in "Fugitive of the Judoon", which thus lends an air of "OK, then what happens?", especially when this story thread ends on something of a cliffhanger.

But that does a disservice to what we get here. Because the four main guests are all delightful indeed, and their interactions with the TARDIS crew are really wonderful, from the silly little gossip fest during the quadrille, to the more serious conversation between Yaz and Claire Clairmont, to Polidori (himself no literary slouch, by the way, having written the first modern vampire story with The Vampyre, also as a result of the nights of ghost stories at Villa Diodati) challenging Ryan to a duel. Byron also is a delight, trying his charms on the Doctor (and largely failing). "I'm fully aware of what you want," Byron says. "Please, reveal all," the Doctor replies. "My third canto," he says smugly. "Of Childe Harold's Pilgrimage, my work in progress." "Nah, it goes on a bit, that one," the Doctor says dismissively. "No offence. Nice mention of Ada, though. Big fan of hers," she adds, in a callback to meeting Ada Lovelace (née Byron) in Spyfall. "You know of my daughter?" Byron asks, understandably confused, given that she'd be about six months old at this point. "Will do," the Doctor says. "Gorgeous brain."

And then we get the puzzle with the house, where everyone seems to be travelling in circles, unable to escape the rooms they're in. Not only does it provide an effective, creepy visual, but it also provides a bit of an SF twist to an "evil house" narrative, with the reveal that it's ultimately a perception filter. Because one of the things this episode does really well is provide a lot of the trappings of a ghost story (apparitions, poltergeists, moving skeletons, etc.) but shift them to that SF context instead of pure horror/fantasy; in other words, it places them inside a Doctor Who context and lets the lead character distort events beyond their traditional shapes. And once you realize that's what's happening, the arrival of the Lone Cyberman makes much more sense: it's also a distortion of a number of these tropes (the stranger stalking people, the revived, possibly murderous corpse (y'know, the thing Mary Shelley (kind of) introduced in Frankenstein)) into a Doctor Who shape. It also gives the Doctor something to dread, instead of just be fascinated by: "Humans like all of you changed into empty, soulless shells," she says. "No feeling, no control, no way back. I will not lose anyone else to that," she vows, in a clear reference to Bill Potts. It's a clever move.

Full props on the design of the Lone Cyberman, by the way; I like the way they've taken the most recent redesign (the "Nightmare in Silver" et al. one), grafted a Mondasian-style arm onto it, and then just generally roughed it up. It looks great, and it gives Patrick O'Kane, inside the suit, something to really work with; they've left the left half of his face exposed, which means he can emote inside the costume, and he takes full advantage of letting his pain, hatred, and rage show on his face. It also gives the other actors something to react to, which is also welcome -- Lili Miller's conversation with him (as Mary Shelley) just wouldn't have the same impact if we couldn't see the sadness briefly chase across his face. It also makes the realization that Mary is getting her inspiration for Frankenstein's monster from Ashad the Lone Cyberman -- not just the idea of a person built from several others but also the emotional pain associated with the Creature -- much more effective.

The Doctor gives up the Cyberium to the Lone Cyberman. ("The
Haunting of Villa Diodati") ©BBC

But because we're specifically picking up on the warning Captain Jack left in "Fugitive of the Judoon", the presence of the Lone Cyberman does distort the narrative: now we're accelerating toward the end of series 12, rather than focusing on this particular episode. In some ways that's not a bad thing -- Ashad is a great character and I'm happy to see more of him -- but in other ways it makes this episode feel a bit unresolved, as the focus moves off the Villa Diodati guests to things about the Cyberium and Cyber Wars in the far future (presumably Captain Jack is one of the people who arranged to send the Cyberium back in time). And that's something of a shame, because the story here deserves a lot of credit. Alderton and Chibnall do a great job with these characters and with the story as a whole, providing clever uses of SF concepts within a ghost story, and it's only because it ends on the cliffhanger of the Lone Cyberman's victory and disappearance that it feels a trifle unfinished. Although the story has the sense to end not on that but on Claire deciding to no longer pine after Byron, followed by Byron reading a poem ("Darkness") to a small audience -- indicating that, for them at least, a resolution has indeed been reached. This is a good one; I just wish I'd recognized it a little more easily.

(And what's up with the maid and kid that Graham sees? Is that foreshadowing for something down the line or just a weird "maybe ghosts are real" thing?)

²⁹³ Thus complicating the efforts of anyone who wants to make the Big Finish audios canon, given that not only was the eighth Doctor also present that night (in the audio The Company of Friends), but Mary went on to become a travelling companion of the Doctor. A possible fig leaf: history records that it actually took Mary a number of nights before she came up with the idea, so perhaps we're simply dealing with different nights here.

September 7: "Can You Hear Me?"

Promotional photo for "Can You Hear Me?" (from BBC One - Doctor
Who, Can You Hear Me? gallery) ©BBC

Oh look, another pre-titles sequence! And (somewhat surprisingly, given the name of the show) our first question mark in an episode title! (If only they'd let episode 3 of The Myth Makers go out under the title "Is There a Doctor in the Horse?"...)

"Can You Hear Me?" is cowritten by Chibnall and Charlene James (a playwright and new writer to the show who's the second black writer ever on Doctor Who), and this is probably the closest episode to the "weird" one in series 12 -- the episode that pushes the boundaries or does something different in some way. But whereas previous episodes have experimented with the structure or point-of-view, this one (a lot like the last one, "It Takes You Away", in some regards) is more just a bizarre story, with strange imagery and an almost dream logic at times.

It starts out normally enough, with the Doctor dropping the others off in Sheffield for a day so that Yaz can observe some anniversary. It gives us a nice little look into what the others are like when they're in their natural habitat, so to speak: we get some more overdue character development for Yaz, with her conversation with her sister about some event that we learn about later; we get to see a bit what it's like for Ryan's best friend Tibo, who seems a bit lost now that Ryan's been off travelling; and Graham is enjoying a game of poker with two of his friends. It's good to be reminded that the Doctor's companions do have a life without her, that they have something to return to should they desire.

But then it starts getting strange, with a bald man with a tattooed head watching people sleep and then having his fingers detach from his hand so that they can fly around the room, lodging themselves in people's ears so they can activate and store people's nightmares. (Like I said, this episode is weird.) Meanwhile, the Doctor is in 1380 Aleppo, also dealing with strange nightmare creatures. And it turns out that somehow these events are linked: the bald man is named Zellin (a name the Doctor recognizes as the mythical name of a god), who has lured the Doctor to a space station in the future. Zellin is immortal and is stealing nightmares as a way to amuse himself: "The Eternals have their games, the Guardians have their power struggles," Zellin remarks, namedropping some classic Who characters along the way. "For me, this dimension is a beautiful board for a game. The Toymaker would approve. And I do like this form. It's so small. To exist within molecules and atoms is fascinating. I can shape them, regrow, mould my form to provoke fear from humans as I extract nightmares from the scared and vulnerable. Now, that is a good game." And while the Doctor believes he's been torturing someone trapped in a prison caught between two colliding planets, Zellin has in fact tricked her into releasing his companion Rakaya, who explains (in a really nifty animation sequence) how she came to be imprisoned in the first place.

Zellin and Rakaya aboard the prison station. ("Can You Hear Me?")
©BBC

Maybe it's because it's the Doctor facing off against ancient, immortal beings, but this story has a real seventh Doctor vibe to it at times -- a feeling no doubt helped by the fact that the main locations that Zellin and Rakaya show up in are a single space station set and a deserted English street at night, which gives it a bit of a low-budget feel in keeping with the McCoy era. We also get Zellin making speeches while the Doctor tries to outwit him, only to have been played by Zellin, which also feels rather like late 80s Who. This isn't necessarily a bad thing (as you might recall, I like the McCoy era), but it does mean the story feels a bit vintage at times -- pleasingly vintage to my tastes, but vintage nonetheless.

Really, the main genuine complaint I have is that it's a bit difficult to follow the timeline aspects of the story. We're in 14th-century Syria, 21st-century England, and far-future Space Station Past the Geskon Straits, but it's never completely clear why. Why are we in the far future, instead of just 21st-century Space Station? If Zellin and Rakaya can travel the "time waves", why does it matter when we are? Why do we go to Aleppo at all in this story? (It doesn't seem to add anything beyond a scary monster that doesn't seem particularly relevant to medieval Aleppo.) It occasionally feels like things were done just because they seemed like they'd be fun, rather than because careful thought was put into it, and you get the sense that the whole thing might collapse if you think about it too hard. But because this story is about dreams, they juuuust about get away with this by making it seem like dream logic.

But in some respects the best parts of this story have to do with characterization: learning that Yaz ran away from home at one point because she was being bullied, only to be talked out of it by a police officer, is interesting (and may provide insight into why Yaz decided to join the police?), while Ryan's interactions with Tibo feel real and enjoyable. I also really enjoy how the Doctor talks to herself because she forgets/doesn't realize no one is around to hear her, which feels like an appropriately thirteenth Doctor trait. But the dreams of Ryan and Graham in particular -- Ryan coming back to a world on fire (in a callback to "Orphan 55") while Tibo grew old waiting for him, Graham learning his cancer is back from Grace who then asks why he didn't save her -- also provide some insights into the two of them; Ryan in particular seems somewhat shaken by this, if his conversation with Yaz at the end ("Is this our lives? Going from one place to the next, ignoring home? We're getting older, but without them. Missing out bits of their lives") is anything to go by. Graham is also worried about his cancer returning, which he attempts to confide in the Doctor about but leads to a bit of a duff note as the Doctor doesn't know what to say and sort of awkwardly does something at the TARDIS console to cover it. I can see what they were going for, suggesting that even the Doctor doesn't know how to handle these sorts of conversations all the time, and it doesn't look like Graham is particularly offended by it, but it does feel slightly off -- partly because they've spent a fair amount of time (in the last series in particular) establishing that Thirteen is a Doctor who's actually better at these sorts of human interactions than some of her predecessors, so having her declare herself to be "socially awkward" (which we've seen when it comes to small talk, but not so much regarding things that matter) feels wrong for the character. It's not a huge concern, but it is there.

So overall, "Can You Hear Me?" is generally quite good, albeit in a slightly retro way, but if you're OK with that, as I am, then there's plenty to enjoy here. It's more mid-tier Who than anything else, and I can understand why one wouldn't particularly like this episode, but I find I rather do. It hits enough buttons for me to keep me entertained, and sometimes that's enough.

September 6: "Praxeus"

Promotional photo for "Praxeus" (from BBC One - Doctor Who, Praxeus
gallery) ©BBC

All around the world, birds are falling out of the sky, while people in Madagascar and Peru are dying of a strange disease that causes them to spontaneously explode. What's going on? And what does all this have to do with a kidnapped British astronaut being held in Hong Kong?

It's interesting; in many ways this episode feels like a sister piece to "Orphan 55", but while that often seemed like it went out of its way to make the guest characters as irritating as possible while hammering home its climate change message, "Praxeus" is much more content to let the drama arise naturally from the situation that's predicated on the spread of plastics throughout the entire planet, and to let us actually like its cast. Even Jake, the cop on sabbatical who starts the episode out as abrasive and reckless, has us firmly on his side by the end of things -- due in no small part, it should be noted, to Warren Brown's performance, which provides a sympathetic component for us to latch on to. And the relationship between him and his husband, the astronaut Adam Lang (Hooray! Finally, another goodie named Adam!), is handled very well, being realistic and touching without being overbearing or maudlin. I also love how the story doesn't go for the emotional heartbreak of having Jake sacrifice himself to save the planet but instead goes for the last-millisecond rescue at the end, allowing them to have their cake and eat it too: "What can I say? I'm a romantic," the Doctor says.

There's also Gabriela, who's constantly (and amusingly) annoyed that no one's heard of her travel vlog, while even Suki, who turns out to be part of the people who brought the Praxeus pathogen to Earth in the first place, engenders sympathy by ultimately trying to save her race rather than just destroying Earth for fun. "Look at us, Suki," the Doctor says. "Two brilliant scientists. We can fix this. Work together, find a cure for you, and then we can stop Earth from being taken over by Praxeus." The Doctor doesn't condemn Suki for the accidents and mistakes that were made, and so neither do we -- although she does end up succumbing to Praxeus in the end, so there is a modicum of poetic justice there if you're looking for it.

Gabriela and Yaz examine an alien device. ("Praxeus") ©BBC

In fact, the only real thing worth noting regarding the characters is actually how Yaz behaves. We've gotten some hints that Yaz is behaving a little more recklessly (such as her eagerness to be a spy in Spyfall, even after she's been transported into the Kasaavian realm), but that seems to be cranked up a notch here, with her wanting to go back into the warehouse to recover the alien tech and to follow the alien through the transport pad. She feels a bit more forceful than before, and not necessarily in a good way. Maybe she's looking to be considered as more of a leader, or more independent? But regardless, she seems a bit more argumentative and a bit more upset about things than she has in the past. I'm curious to see if that's deliberate (perhaps they're preparing the ground for Yaz to leave the TARDIS?) or just something of a coincidence.

But as I said, the main issue here involves the spread of plastics all over Earth -- but while it brings it up and makes it the focus of the alien pathogen, it doesn't get overly preachy about it. "Praxeus breeds in plastic, and this planet is saturated in it," Suki tells the others. "We travelled across three galaxies to find the perfect living laboratory." It brings up the point, makes it the focus of the SF problem they've created, but it doesn't beat us over the head with it. It's a more subtle approach that benefits the episode, and so that also helps put us on its side.

I also like how expansive the setting feels. We're in Madagascar, Hong Kong, England, Peru, and somewhere in the Indian Ocean all in the same episode, without feeling rushed or superfluous. In fact, it gives the proceedings a more urgent feel, because Praxeus is an issue that affects the entire globe, not just one particular region with the possibility of its spreading. It's the sort of thing that the production teams don't tend to use that often, which is why it's really neat to see it put to good use here, with the wide distribution of the locations reinforcing that feeling of a global pandemic about to break out -- a subject which has a much greater resonance just a few months after this episode first aired, with the COVID-19 pandemic still (here in the United States, at least) showing no signs of being controlled. (Although the original airdate -- 2 February 2020 -- was late enough for some to note the similarities between Praxeus and COVID, even if COVID hadn't been declared a pandemic at that point (that would happen on 11 March) and had only just been declared a Public Health Emergency of International Concern by the WHO a couple days earlier.) It kind of makes you wish the Doctor could cook up a cure for us that could be dispersed throughout the atmosphere the way the Praxeus antidote particles are done here. But either way, an unintentional byproduct of the global pandemic is that it helps that aspect of "Praxeus" connect with the audience even more than it did before.

I don't know that this is the most brilliant or flashy episode of the show, or even of series 12, but "Praxeus" does what it sets out to do with a minimum of fuss and a lot of sophistication. The lack of a "proper" monster or villain means that this might not rate as highly as some other stories in fandom, and maybe that does hurt it a little bit (after all, how would kids act this story out on the playground?), and maybe the situation feels a bit slight compared to other episodes (although again, I think the 2020 pandemic has made that part of the story age better than anyone would have perhaps realized). But none of that is the worst of sins. "Praxeus" may therefore not be the most impressive story ever, but nevertheless it's still quietly wonderful.

September 5: "Fugitive of the Judoon"

Promotional photo for "Fugitive of the Judoon" (from BBC One - Doctor
Who, Fugitive of the Judoon gallery) ©BBC

The TARDIS intercepts a Judoon warning transmission regarding 2020 Gloucester, so the TARDIS fam heads down to investigate and stop the Judoon from wreaking havoc on the planet. But why do the Judoon seem interested in two seemingly normal people? Who really are Ruth and Lee Clayton?

Well. I think it's a measure of the kind of episode "Fugitive of the Judoon" is that the surprise return of John Barrowman as Captain Jack Harkness (for the first time since Torchwood: Miracle Day in 2011 -- or "The End of Time Part Two" in 2010 if you don't count the spinoffs) isn't even the most exciting part of the proceedings here. (And it was a surprise: like Sacha Dhawan being the Master in the series opener, this was a secret that they managed to keep under wraps.) This episode, written by Chibnall and Vinay Patel (who, you no doubt recall, wrote one of last series's standout stories, "Demons of the Punjab"), is full of surprises.

I like the way it starts relatively small; we're introduced to a married couple, Ruth and Lee, who don't seem particularly out-of-the-ordinary, while in the TARDIS the Doctor is brooding about the Master and Gallifrey. "Is that where you go, when you leave us to explore and you say you'll be back in an hour but you never are? Are you out looking for him? Where do you go?" Yaz asks. But rather than dwell on that, that Judoon signal comes through and it's off to the main storyline. And it does feel like this will probably be a smaller episode at first: it's not the fate of the planet at stake but just a couple people, while the Doctor tries to stop the Judoon from going too nuts. And it's fun to see the Judoon back for the first time since "Face the Raven" (where they had a small cameo), looking more or less the same save for the addition of the short mohawk on the top of their heads. Oh! And they've brought back Nicholas Briggs for the voice, and Paul Kasey to play the lead Judoon (returning to the show for the first time since "Deep Breath"), which is really quite lovely. But yes, the Judoon are here, looking for their fugitive, who may be Lee Clayton; at least, the owner of the bar/café Allan seems to think so -- although he's creepily pining after Ruth (a married woman, don't forget), so it's hard to get worked up about what he thinks. And I like the way that Graham unknowingly takes the piss out of Allan, after he sees the cake that Allan has ruined for Lee on behalf of Ruth's birthday with the message "You Can Do Better": "Look at the state of that! That's the worst cake I've ever seen!" And then suddenly Graham vanishes, to be joined with Captain Jack.

"Ha! You missed me, right?" ("Fugitive of the Judoon") ©BBC

And make no mistake, the return of Jack is genuinely thrilling. Hearing his voice, especially if you didn't know he was returning, is an exciting moment, even if it ultimately ends up being little more than a cameo and a tease for an upcoming episode. Jack's a little older-looking but it's still the same old Jack, ebullient and loving life even as it's going to pot around him: "Ship's security is fighting back. You gotta be kidding me! Anti-theft attack system? Well, now I'm offended." And the way he gives Graham a big ol' kiss, mistaking him for the Doctor, is also great -- although Graham's "Ah" after he realizes the mistake Jack has made may be even better. And I love the little interaction with Ryan, after Jack scoops him and Yaz up as well ("Seriously? Three of you?"): "Listen, kid, working with some low-rent equipment here," Jack says. "Why doesn't that surprise me?" Ryan replies. "Oh, she likes them mouthy, then, huh?" Jack snarks. "Yeah, one up from cheesy," Ryan fires back, taking in Jack's whole shtick. "Okay, he's my favourite," Jack says. Really, it makes you wish there were more Jack, either in this episode or later on in series 12, but regrettably this is all we get. But a little Jack Harkness is better than nothing, especially when it's unexpected, and so I'll still take it.

But as I said at the top, the return of Jack isn't even the biggest surprise of the episode. That, by far, is the introduction of Jo Martin as Ruth Clayton. Because it turns out Ruth isn't as human as she first appears. The initial fake-out with Lee, with all the suspicion falling on him, is well played, but no, it seems Ruth is the one the Judoon are really after -- and the scene in the cathedral, where Ruth turns into a fighting machine, is also orchestrated really well. The first time around I'd guessed that she was a Time Lord who'd been altered by a Chameleon Arch (as seen previously in "Human Nature"/"The Family of Blood" and also "Utopia"), but I definitely didn't guess who she really was. "Let me take it from the top," 'Ruth' says to the thirteenth Doctor. "Hello, I'm the Doctor." And given that she has a TARDIS that looks like a police box, it seems likely that she's telling the truth -- something that's confirmed when Thirteen scans them both with her sonic screwdriver. But the mystery still deepens, as neither remembers being the other:

RUTH: And how did I end up like... that? All rainbows and trousers that don't reach?
DOCTOR: What? No. How did I end up like you?
RUTH: You don't. You're in my future, not the other way round.
DOCTOR: I've never been anything like you. Trust me, I'd remember. Especially that shirt.
RUTH: So would I, if I'd ever been you, which I haven't. ...
DOCTOR: No, this doesn't make any sense. Either I should know you or you should know me.
RUTH: Agreed.
DOCTOR: So why don't we?

(from The Doctor Who Transcripts - Fugitive of the Judoon)

And while there are clues that suggest that Ruth is indeed from our Doctor's past (the look of the TARDIS console room (although, possibly significantly, it's a little different from the classic look), the fact that the Ruth Doctor doesn't recognize the sonic screwdriver, and the fact that Gat, the one pursuing Ruth, is a Gallifreyan -- which should be impossible given the Master's actions at the start of this run), there's nothing definitive to place her somewhere in the Doctor's timeline. "She said she was my past, but I know my past, and she's never been me," Thirteen later says. It's certainly an interesting and unexpected hook for the episode, even if it doesn't get resolved here.

Promotional photo for "Fugitive of the Judoon" (from BBC One - Doctor
Who, Fugitive of the Judoon gallery) ©BBC

Really, if there's a complaint to made about this episode it's that this is an episode designed to fit into a larger storyline, rather than being a largely self-contained episode. There's no resolution to events here of any sort, which means this is all pure setup for something else. Consequently, it feels like it would be a bit difficult to enjoy on its own, in the way you could with, say, the Capaldi episode "Oxygen" (which has larger ramifications for later on in series 10 but still manages to tell its own independent tale). That's definitely a departure for how Chibnall has been doing things so far, and really even for the show as a whole -- I can't think of an ostensibly standalone episode, other than maybe "Mission to the Unknown", that exists purely to set up another story down the line (acknowledging things like "Face the Raven" or "Utopia" that are kind of sort of standalone but in many ways feel like the first part of a multi-part story that immediately follows said episode). So that does weaken the overall effect a little bit. (There's also the potential concern that you need to be a fairly dedicated follower of the show to understand or care about what's happening here -- note the way the Chameleon Arch isn't really explained at all, or the way it's assumed we should just automatically care about the mystery of where the Ruth Doctor "fits".)

But if you're a fan of the show and you don't mind the occasional unresolved moment, this episode is a real winner. It's built up well from something seemingly minor to something major (again, the structure is really well done), the reveals that we get are handled and spaced out well, and everyone does their very best -- Jo Martin in particular is fabulous both as the kind, slightly confused Ruth and the less cuddly, firmer, slightly more dangerous Doctor (oh, and we should also note that this makes Martin our first black Doctor (and therefore first black female Doctor as well), which is pretty damn cool). Overall, "Fugitive of the Judoon" is an excellent example of what this show can do when it's firing on all cylinders.

Oh, and I really like the little pick-me-up speech at the end too:

RYAN: We do know who you are. You're the woman that brought us together, the woman that saved us and loads of other people. You're the Doctor. Whoever you were in the past or are in the future, we know who you are right now. Right?
YASMIN: Right.
GRAHAM: The best person we know.
YASMIN: And whatever is coming for you, we'll be here, 'cos we're your mates.
GRAHAM: Well, not just mates. Family.

(from The Doctor Who Transcripts - Fugitive of the Judoon)

September 4: "Nikola Tesla's Night of Terror"

Promotional photo from "Nikola Tesla's Night of Terror" (from BBC One -
Doctor Who, Nikola Tesla's Night of Terror gallery) ©BBC

The Serbian-American inventor Nikola Tesla is looking for funding to complete his Wardenclyffe Tower project, but it seems no one is particularly interested in the idea while also having concerns regarding the safety of the project. But it seems someone from another world might be interested in Tesla himself...

"Nikola Tesla's Night of Terror" is the first Doctor Who episode from writer Nina Metivier (although she script-edited a couple of episodes last series), and it feels a lot closer to the style of series 11 in terms of providing educational content within an entertaining story. This is a good thing, by the way; one of the nice things about series 11 was how it tried to provide more of an educational grounding a lot of the time rather than just relying solely on action-adventure content, and while I'm not saying that's a bad thing it's good to see that the show is still pulling on that thread rather than jettisoning it in the new series. And so here we learn all sorts of stuff about Nikola Tesla and who he was, as well as some stuff about Thomas Edison and how the two of them were rivals. Goran Višnjić, playing Tesla, does a great job of making Tesla likeable and engaging, while Robert Glenister (who you might remember as Salateen from The Caves of Androzani) excels as the more testy, prototypical capitalist Edison. And while it's been fashionable in recent years to make Edison the villain of the Tesla-Edison feud (not completely without reason, it should be noted), Glenister and the script both do a good job of making Edison more than a simple caricature -- note, for instance, his reaction after seeing that all his employees have been killed. Edison in this version is more someone who has a much better grasp of how the world works practically and how to speak to people: the way he gets people to clear the streets after Yaz's unsuccessful attempt being one such example.

Tesla and Edison inside the TARDIS. ("Nikola Tesla's Night of Terror")
©BBC

Really, I could happily watch Tesla and Edison interact for the whole episode, but because it's Doctor Who we get an alien element as well. This time around it's a race of alien scorpions, led by none other than Anjli Mohindra, The Sarah Jane Adventures' very own Rani. She certainly seems like she's having fun, and the makeup is pretty good (although it seems weird how human she looks, especially compared to the other Skithra -- and is she meant to look so much like a Racnoss from "The Runaway Bride"?). I also like the idea of how the Skithra are essentially a scavenger race, with no understanding of how things work, and so they're going to kidnap Tesla to be their engineer. It's a nice change from wanting to conquer the planet or wipe out all life -- although we get some of that too, with the Skithra threatening to overrun Earth as revenge for being thwarted by the Doctor. Plus, the presence of the Skithra in their stolen Venusian spaceship provides a reason for Wardenclyffe Tower to start firing off energy bolts (a real-life event that Tesla never explained), which is quite nice.

But it's Tesla and Edison who are the highlights of this episode. They're just so much fun, and the episode is nicely informative about them, but the script never comes off as preachy or condescending. It's a great peek into an area of history that (somewhat surprisingly) hasn't been explored on the show before. (And another trip to the United States, as well!) It's just about the perfect balance of history and SF, and that's why it's probably my favorite story of series 12.

September 3: "Orphan 55"

Graham finds enough cards to earn an all-expenses-paid two-week holiday to a place called Tranquility Spa, which the TARDIS fam is instantly transported to. (Pro tip: don't make a cube out of the cards until you're ready to go.) But things aren't quite as tranquil (sorry not sorry) as they seem...

"Orphan 55" is the second script from Ed Hime, after last series's "It Takes You Away" -- a generally solid and imaginative story let down a bit by some padding and a couple questionable characterizations. So you'd hopefully expect that the sophomore effort would be along an upward trajectory, with some of the rough edges smoothed away. Unfortunately, that isn't the case here.

To be fair, it starts out reasonably well; there are some nice jokes in the TARDIS ("I've got to go and fetch my Speedos!" Graham exclaims, after the Doctor tells them they're about to be transported. "Only joking. Already got 'em on," he says, to the slight horror of his companions), and the way the place is set up is quite nice, with the discussion of the Hopper virus, while Ryan starts to flail, being quite delightful ("Now suck your thumb until the hallucinations stop. And remember, they're not real bats," the Doctor tells him). And most of the characters are reasonably likeable, which helps. The only exception at the beginning is the person running the place, Kane, who's played by Laura Fraser (who you might recognize from A Knight's Tale or Breaking Bad, but who I actually recognize as Door from the 1996 Neil Gaiman show Neverwhere). I think she's meant to be no-nonsense, but Fraser chooses to play her as more pig-headed -- and honestly, that would probably be a reasonable reaction to the Doctor's presence, and if it were just her things would likely be fine. But unfortunately she's just the start of the rot.

Because in order to get his characters to move to the places he needs them to be, Ed Hime makes literally every single one of them (with the possible exceptions of the regulars, and even they don't escape completely unscathed) behave like idiots from time to time just to keep the plot moving. Benni going to get Vilma's hat isn't perhaps the worst of sins (other than from the horror movie cliché point of view), but this means that we're subjected to his girlfriend's endless wailing about "Benni!" I'm sure Julia Foster is a lovely, wonderful person in real life, but if I have to hear her call out "Benni!" one more time I think I'll have to punch someone. And none of the other guest characters are safe: Bella seems like she'll be nice but sassy, but then she undergoes a massive heel turn to start threatening everyone else's lives because she's mad at her mommy Kane, even after it's abundantly clear she'll be condemning everyone to death; Nevi keeps putting his son down for comic relief, just so they can share a supposedly touching "I need you" moment at the end; even the son in question, Sylas, who seems initially to be the most level-headed among them, storms off in a fit of pique while he knows the Dregs are attacking the place because the script needs him to be separated from his dad for a bit. I guess Hyph3n and Vorm aren't too frustrating, but that's more because they're turned into cannon fodder before they can undergo their own transformations into idiots. And even the Doctor to an extent isn't spared: it's her suggestion that they go get Benni in the first place, even though it doesn't seem like there's any way an old man like him could be moving around outside the Spa at high speed and this is very clearly a trap. Yes, it speaks well to her moral code about not leaving anyone behind if she can help it, but the minute it becomes clear this is a trap she should be more on the ball.

This is already a lot, but then comes the Big Twist: Orphan 55, the uninhabitable, lifeless planet that Tranquility Spa is on (although if it's as dead as they claim, why are there very much alive trees in some of the background shots?), is in fact the future Earth! It's Earth after climate change has rendered the place uninhabitable, save by the last vestiges of humanity, who've adapted to become the not-bad-but-not-the-greatest-monsters the Dregs.²⁹² Look, I'm incredibly sympathetic to the viewpoint that climate change is a massive problem that we as a species haven't done remotely enough to address, and I recognize that in that regard "Orphan 55"'s heart is in the right place, but by the time we learn this I found I was so completely done with the episode and the people in it that my reaction was a profanity and an eyeroll.

Because the thing is, "Orphan 55" hasn't remotely earned that payoff. It's so intent on manhandling its characters into annoying and frustrating situations that all attempts at believability have long since left, and so this is yet one more thing we're being asked to accept in an episode full of unnatural situations. (My brother suggested that maybe the characters are meant to be metaphorical, acting that way because they represent the various ways humanity chooses to ignore the dangers of climate change in favor of their own petty squabbles. This may in fact actually be the point, but if it really is then Hime hasn't done a very good job at successfully conveying the metaphorical side of things.) Which is perhaps why the final moments at the Spa, where Kane suddenly reappears out of nowhere after being apparently killed in order to rescue the daughter, are so aggravating: because they are completely unearned. Bella's supposed to be all hunky-dory with the mom she's spent most of her life despising just because of a deus ex machina rescue? Come on. The TARDIS fam teleports back to the Ship before we see Bella and Kane's final fate, so at least we can hope the Dregs got them in the end.

As I said, "Orphan 55"'s heart is in the right place, and the final speech makes that perfectly clear and direct (and it's a message worth hearing!). But Ed Hime has to work so hard to force his pieces into the positions he wants them in that the whole thing simply collapses under the stress. Maybe another draft would have helped. Maybe giving it to someone else to work on might have helped. But as it is, "Orphan 55" is easily the worst thirteenth Doctor episode to date, and possibly the worst episode the show has ever done: worse than "Boom Town", than episode 4 of The Time Monster, than part 2 of The Horns of Nimon. It might even be worse than "The Lazarus Experiment" -- honestly, its main competition at this point is "Kill the Moon", and right now that would be a tough call for me to decide which was worse. "Orphan 55" has the right general idea, but the complete wrong way of going about it.

Still, at least it looks pretty; the location filming on the island of Tenerife clearly paid off.

²⁹² And knowing that, part of me wishes they could have been the Haemovores from the dying future in The Curse of Fenric instead. But maybe that would have given the game away too soon.

September 2: Spyfall Part Two

Having laid into the Bond theme pretty heavily last time, this episode shifts gears somewhat; it's as if the presence of the revealed Master changes the direction of the story. And while the Doctor has been pulled into the realm of the aliens (the Kasaavin, we subsequently learn), Ryan, Yaz, and Graham are stuck on the crashing airplane. The way out of it for them is fun though, with the instructions ready for Ryan scattered throughout the plane. It's also a relatively clever way to get our heroes out of their jam. (And it made me think of the seventh Doctor story Battlefield and the Doctor's instructions to himself, although "Blink" might be a more likely antecedent.)

But honestly, although the companions' plotline helps advance the story in certain ways (even if it's a bit reminiscent at times of "The Sound of Drums"), it's the Doctor's side of things that's the more engaging half. Having the Doctor meet Ada Lovelace in the weird realm and then appear in 1834 is really interesting, and it helps give the episode a shot of energy -- especially when the Master shows up, his TARDIS having detected that the Doctor has moved from 2020.²⁹¹ Sacha Dhawan excels at being a gleefully murderous, insane Master -- Missy is probably closest in terms of previous Master characterizations, but even she didn't go as far as the Master does here, essentially killing out of spite. "When I kill them, Doctor, it gives me a little buzz. Right here, in the hearts," he says. The sparks between him and the Doctor just fly -- especially the moment where the Master orders her to kneel and call him "Master"; there's such a charge of energy between the two of them (and I love how Jodie Whittaker gives a little eyeroll before both kneeling and saying "Master").

But it's also nice to see that, while Spyfall has been leaning a bit more RTD/Moffat than anything really in series 11, we still get some of the educational moments that were peppered throughout that season. Here it's information on Ada Lovelace and Charles Babbage, a bit (although the episode seems to just assume the audience either already knows about the Difference Engine or will be inclined to look it up), as well as about Noor Inayat Khan, the first female wireless operator to be sent into occupied France during World War II (though they don't mention the part where she's later captured by the Germans and executed at Dachau -- but I suppose there's not time to cover everything). The Doctor's interactions with both Ada and Noor are simply wonderful; you get a sense of the respect and awe the Doctor has for the two of them. There's also the nice little speech the Doctor gives, as Ada looks upon war-ravaged Paris: "These are the dark times. But they don't sustain. Darkness never sustains, even though sometimes it feels like it might." (Good advice for our current times as well.) Really, if there's any complaint, it's that meeting Noor actually continues the spy theme established in Part One, but there's a curious lack of emphasis that makes it a bit difficult to realize this is in fact the case. But that's just a minor quibble in a generally excellent part of the episode.

But it's still ultimately the interactions between the Doctor and the Master in 1943 Paris that basically steal the show. I also personally like the little nods to 20th-century Who, such as the four beats in sequence ("The Sound of Drums", although here it's described as the heartbeat of a Time Lord), "Contact" (The Three Doctors), and the little exchange about the events of Logopolis:

DOCTOR: It's cold up here! It's worse than Jodrell Bank.
MASTER: Did I ever apologise for that?
DOCTOR: No.
MASTER: Good.

(from The Doctor Who Transcripts - Spyfall part 2)

Watching them spar is so entertaining, and listening to the Master explain his convoluted plan (although I can't decide if there's more or less effort and planning involved than in, say, The Mind of Evil or The Time Monster) is great fun. The way the Doctor escapes from the Master (turning off the perception filter that let him pass as a member of the SS, thus revealing he doesn't look like an Aryan archetype) is perhaps a touch cruel, given the actions of the Nazis, but given he'd thrown his lot in with them and we've seen him murdering lots of people, it feels justified.

Really, the only place this episode falls down is the resolution of the villains' plot. Individually, the pieces all make sense: the Kasaavin are interested in computers, so that's why they're tracking them through Earth's history; they're also being used as spies by the Master to help set up his fiendish trap; Daniel Barton is also a computer person and perhaps one who's tired of humanity (as he says in part one, "We did something great, and it got hijacked. I get to see both sides of humanity in this job")... as I said, the pieces make sense on their own, and you can see the thought processes involving computers. It's only when you try to piece it all together that things start to fall apart. Ok, so human DNA can be used to store computer information instead of "how to be human" information -- fine, I guess (although something still feels slightly unworkable about that that I can't quite put my finger on), but why would the Kassavin care about this in the first place? Why are they interested in computers at all? What do they gain from this? Do they really need hard disk space that badly? It doesn't really make sense. (Potential get-out: the Master hints that this was ultimately his plan and that the Kassavin are just happy to go along with it; if that's the case we can probably file this under the same category of plan that required the Master to stand in a field pretending to be a scarecrow until the Doctor happened to walk by (The Mark of the Rani, if you need to be reminded), or to place an elaborate fictional trap location in the TARDIS databanks even though he expects them all to be killed in Event One (Castrovalva).) The ultimate problem is that it's a very unsatisfying resolution, and the fact that all these events have been hinging on something so mundane means that it all feels rather hollow at the end. (And we don't even see Barton get his comeuppance! Last we see he's leaving out the side door, and that's it.)

(Oh, and long as I'm griping a bit: what's with destroying Gallifrey again? Steven Moffat went to such pains to bring it back (successfully, I thought) that it seems a bit churlish to get rid of it again barely a season after he's left, and it also risks creating a yo-yo effect about the place where it's constantly gone and then back and then gone again. But I'll discuss this further when I get to "The Timeless Children".)

But Spyfall isn't the first overall satisfying Doctor Who story to have a wet squib of an ending, and it probably won't be the last. Overall, this is a great ride, with lots of action and fun and one of the most exciting Doctor/Master pairings we've seen yet. Only at the end does it disappoint, and then only a little.

²⁹¹ Contra to the previous footnote under the last entry, this (and the later reveal about Gallifrey) would seem to be evidence that there actually is a Gallifreyan Mean Time, since these events don't really make sense (or at least are much harder to explain) without the idea of a shared personal "present".