October 6: "Tales of the TARDIS: Pyramids of Mars" / "Empire of Death"

So if you were confused by who Sutekh actually is (which might not be surprising, given he only appeared in a single story almost 50 years earlier), Tales of the TARDIS has you covered, airing a special edition of Pyramids of Mars shortly before "Empire of Death" aired.  This time the fifteenth Doctor and Ruby provide the background, with the Doctor talking about the previous time he defeated Sutekh.  The framing material is short and sweet, and hopefully now the general audience is all caught up.  (And it also explains why the fourth Doctor wasn't featured in the original Tales of the TARDIS.)

And now it's time for "Empire of Death" (so sorry, David Bishop, your fifth Doctor book is no longer the main "Empire of Death"), which demonstrates that even after 14 years away from the show, Russell T Davies still has trouble sticking the landing.

Part of the issue is just how big the initial "death wave" event is; when it kills Kate, it feels shocking, as the audience wonders if they're really killing off her character.  But when everyone dies shortly thereafter, including Carla, it feels like, "Oh, so clearly this is going to be undone by the end of the episode."  This has the unintentional effect of robbing the episode of some of its drama, since it just turns into a waiting game at that point.  How exactly Sutekh will be defeated becomes a bit less interesting, because the stakes have gotten so high that, perversely, they've been lowered for the audience.  There's no longer a worry that some people might not make it out alive.

It's also mildly annoying, as a long-time fan, how the events of Pyramids of Mars get changed to fit the narrative, with Sutekh now expelled into the vortex instead of just travelling down a space-time tunnel to his eventual death.  There was also something terrifying about the power of Sutekh in the original story, how he could compel the Doctor to obey him simply with the force of his will, that is missing here.  Instead we get a sandstorm of death, which is still scary (and perhaps more cinematic), but it doesn't quite have the same effect.  The fourth Doctor became a helpless pawn of Sutekh, released only when Sutekh believed him dead; the fifteenth Doctor yells at Sutekh for a while: "I damn you, Sutekh.  I damn you in the name of life itself!  And I swear to you, with both the hearts of the last of the Time Lords, I will stop you.  I will defeat you.  And I will turn back death."  And Sutekh lets him!  Without even a "rant all you want, little man, it will do you no good"-style line.  And then he lets the Doctor escape into the remembered TARDIS down in the time window room.  (Which, it seems, is also the memory TARDIS from Tales of the TARDIS.)  If this is part of Sutekh's master plan, he's doing an excellent job of keeping his cards close to his chest, since it never seems like letting the Doctor escape is deliberate.  (Mind you, we learn that naming his death avatar "Susan" was apparently an intentional reference to the Doctor's granddaughter, instead of a coincidence, so maybe Sutekh's plan is more convoluted than we thought.)

Ruby, the Doctor, and Mel look out at the devastated Earth. ("Empire
of Death") ©BBC

But the reason Sutekh is letting the Doctor, Ruby, and Mel live is, in retrospect, more absurd.  Apparently he's also interested in who Ruby's birth mother is, and that's the only reason they're still alive.  He just wants his curiosity satisfied, even though everyone's gonna end up dead anyway.  Maybe get your priorities straight, Sutekh.  But to that end, our three heroes escape in the memory TARDIS, observing Sutekh's destruction throughout the universe and kind of just tooling around before they realise they could head to 2046 to find info on Ruby's mother, because Roger ap Gwilliam (from "73 Yards") created a mandatory DNA database of the entire population.  Sure, it's a bit convenient, but I guess they need to wrap this up somehow.  Plus it gives Bonnie Langford a chance to act possessed by Sutekh, which is kind of fun.  But then that leads to the resolution of the story, where Sutekh brings the three of them back to 2024 to find out who Ruby's mother was.  There's some stuff with bringing the answer close enough to Sutekh to attach an intelligent rope to his collar so that the Doctor can drag him out into the vortex with the TARDIS.  When the Doctor and Ruby ever discussed this plan (and not in earshot of Mel) and prepared the rope and gloves (also without Mel knowing) is never explained.  And so then Sutekh is tumbling through the vortex, somehow bringing everything back to life because Sutekh is bringing death to death, which is a completely absurd explanation that doesn't remotely stand up to scrutiny.  Does Sutekh resurrect everyone?  Do the people buried in the ground come back to life?  If not, then how does Sutekh's energy (or whatever is happening) know how to discriminate?  Even by the standards of Davies' previous season finales, which often stretched believability, this is pushing it.  We end up with a difficult-to-swallow ending exacerbated by the sense that we're rushing through it.

And we're rushing because we also need to tie up the mystery of Ruby's mother.  After all that, we learn that her mother is in fact... just some random human.  Which would be fine if they hadn't kept making such a big deal out of it.  I understand that making her a regular person is a subversion of the "chosen one" storyline (and is apparently a reaction to the Rey "actually you're a Palpatine" reveal from Star Wars: The Rise of Skywalker, but now is not the place to get bogged down in the problems with that choice), but it would be perhaps a bit more believable if it hadn't built into such a mystery.  As it is, it's just another shaggy dog story, only stretched out over a season.  And why does it snow around Ruby at key moments?  No idea, just go with it, I guess.  It's also darkly funny how they spend all this time screwing around with a 20-year-old VHS tape and a time window trying to learn something about Ruby's mum, and then at the end UNIT apparently runs a DNA test and finds her, no problem.  As an independent thematic event, the reveal of who Ruby's mother is works -- it's only in the context of the whole of series 14 that it really becomes an issue.  Still, it does give closure to Ruby's storyline and actually provides a compelling reason for her to stay behind, so that's something at least.  (That said, she's apparently going to be showing up at some point in series 15, so we haven't seen the last of her yet.)

And we're left with one unresolved question for (presumably) next series: what's the deal with Mrs. Flood?  What were the plans she had that she references here?  And why is she dressed in white furs on the rooftop at the end?  Something for the future, it seems...

In theory bringing back Sutekh is a nice idea (although, again, this relies on people remembering who he is, which may be a bit risky), and it's a move that I don't know the Davies of series 1-4 would have chosen.  In practice, though, what we get is rather messy, with things happening because Davies thinks they would be fun or cool-looking, rather than because they make logical sense, and with too much rushing through important moments in order to fit everything in.  As such, this is probably the weakest story of series 14.

Overall, where series 14 really shined was its characterisation of the Doctor.  Ncuti Gatwa hits the ground running, being full of joy and energy and willing to be much more emotionally open than we've come to expect from the Doctor.  It's a fabulous performance, and I can't wait to see what's in store for the future of this Doctor.  In the face of that, it's honestly impressive just how well Millie Gibson manages to hold her own, being adventurous and spunky without being overbearing or, conversely, fading into the background.  Ruby is a fun companion who complements this Doctor well, and hopefully she comes back for more than just an episode or two.

But in general, series 14 is a bit difficult to really get a grasp on.  In some ways this is the most experimental series of the 21st-century run, with a number of episodes seemingly designed to push against the limits of the show, to expand what Doctor Who can be -- and in fact, it tends to be the more "typical" episodes that let things down.  I'm not convinced that Davies's desire to push the show into more fantasy realms really needs to be addressed with plot points about the fabric of reality and the Doctor invoking superstitions at the boundaries (as seen in "Wild Blue Yonder") -- Doctor Who has dabbled with fantasy elements before without needing to justify how, say, the Kinda shared dreaming works, where the Land of Fiction is, or even how the Toymaker's realm was possible back in 1966.  In some ways it's a bit of an intrusion, a sign that Davies doesn't quite trust the audience to roll with it.  Where series 14 has really succeeded (beyond, again, the performances of its two leads) is those moments where the show gets out of its own way and just lets the episodes get on with pushing the format.  Time will probably be the greatest judge of how well this series ultimately holds up, if it ends up being considered as a transition period or a peculiar path not ultimately taken.  But setting aside concerns of how history will judge series 14, what we ultimately got was a set of stories with more successes than failures, and that's ultimately the goal.  Everything else is just a matter of degree.

October 5: "The Legend of Ruby Sunday"

And somehow it's time for the big two-part season finale already; time flies when you've only got 8 episodes, I guess.  So we return to UNIT to investigate the Mystery of Susan Twist.  Why does she appear everywhere the Doctor shows up?  Oh, and I guess as long we're here, what's up with Ruby's biological mother?

It's a bit odd; it's like there are two more or less unrelated plot threads happening here, and the less exciting one is the one the episode is named after.  It feels like the stuff with Susan Triad should be the more urgent plot point, with her about to release free software to the entire world and being the same face following the Doctor everywhere, but it often feels like it gets pushed to the back burner in favor of Ruby's storyline.  Certainly the Doctor spends more of his time in UNIT's time window room -- although the moment where he first beholds the fancy room with a large glass partition and shiny surfaces and lots of controls and displays and starts to bend over laughing, declaring "this is rough!  Wow!  You have lashed this together  Woo!", is a pure delight -- trying to work out some of the puzzles around Ruby.  Well, I say "some of the puzzles", but it's really just "who is her birth mother?" and "why does it snow around her a bunch?"  But they have a time window and an old VHS copy of the CCTV footage near the church at the relevant time, so they can construct a window into the evening of 24 December 2004 by the church on Ruby Road.  There's a lot of stuff about not moving (because I guess they've kind of traveled back in time?) to avoid disturbing things and wondering why Ruby's mother is now pointing and what's going on with a weird swirling cloud that wasn't there before on the tape.  It's all delivered with a lot of intensity and urgency, but it ends up being more a curiosity (albeit one that ends with a dead soldier, turned to something like sand) than anything else.

The Doctor and Mel talk to Susan Triad. ("The Legend of Ruby
Sunday") ©BBC

But hooray!  Kate is back, and so is Rose Noble, plus the Vlinx and Mel!  It's really quite wonderful to see Mel back and this time being more active than she was in "The Giggle"; here she's infiltrated Susan Triad's operation to find out more about what she's up to (because UNIT are also concerned about a tech CEO whose name is an anagram of "TARDIS").  It feels like she has more to do now than she did when she traveled with the Doctor, now that she's no longer being called upon to scream on pitch, but the same sense of feistiness still persists in her present-day actions.  It's kind of like the best possible Mel, and it's great.  We also get the wrinkle that Susan Triad is apparently quite likeable and pleasant to be around, unlike, say, Daniel Barton from Spyfall -- so if she is an alien intent on taking over the planet, she's doing an excellent job of hiding it.  But then we also get the possibility, raised by Ruby, that Susan Triad may actually be Susan Foreman, the Doctor's granddaughter, so we get the possibility floating around that maybe this is actually a regenerated Susan.  That wouldn't really explain why she's been showing up everywhere, but nevertheless the Doctor seems willing to at least entertain the possibility.  But that turns out to be something of a red herring (which, honestly, given that Carole Ann Ford is still alive and kicking, seems like a good thing -- I'd be rather unhappy if they had recast Susan) for something else.

And of course, because this is the start of the series 14 finale, we learn that the two seemingly disparate plotlines are in fact closely related.  Well, no, that's not fair.  It's more that the use of the time window reveals that the swirling cloud that appeared is related to the TARDIS somehow, and that that swirling cloud is also related to Susan Triad.  The fact that "S. Triad" is an anagram of TARDIS turns out to be a red herring.  Don't worry, there's still a clue in the name (for some reason -- maybe he just likes showing off); it's just that the clue is in the name of the company: Susan Triad Technology, which can be (awkwardly) shortened to Sue Tech.  In other words, Sutekh, returning to the show for the first time since 1975's Pyramids of Mars.

Sutekh reveals himself. ("The Legend of Ruby Sunday") ©BBC

We'll have to wait for next episode to answer such questions as "how?", "why?", and "no but seriously, how?", but nevertheless we get a nice big cliffhanger here, with Susan Triad turning into a servant of Sutekh (looking, it must be said, a lot more skull-like than Marcus Scarman did when he was a servant in Pyramids) and bringing death to humanity.  And as if that weren't enough, Sutekh himself has manifested himself around the TARDIS, looking a lot bigger and a lot more like an alien dog than he did in Pyramids of Mars.  Gloriously, however, he's still voiced by Gabriel Woolf, who voiced him back in 1975, and so those silky smooth tones go a long way in making this reveal work.  But yes, it seems Sutekh was the One Who Waits, mentioned by the Toymaker and Maestro, and is apparently now a leader of a whole set of gods, including not just the Toymaker and Maestro, but also the Trickster (from various Sarah Jane Adventures stories), the Mara (Kinda/Snakedance), and some other beings we haven't met yet, like Reprobate and Incensor.  And now he's once more ready to bestow the gift of death upon everyone...

(Oh, and one thing I forgot to mention: what's the deal with Mrs. Flood (the woman who knew what a TARDIS was)? Why is she being so rude to Ruby's grandmother, and how does she know Sutekh is about to return?  More questions for next time, it seems.)

October 4: "Rogue"

On 3 June 2024, between the broadcast of "Dot and Bubble" and this, William Russell, who played Ian Chesterton, passed away at the age of 99.  Rather sweetly, the British broadcast of "Rogue" was dedicated to his memory.  (Not the Disney+ or the home video release, however; the dedication must have been added after those versions had been locked and distributed.)  It's interesting, though, to reflect on just how different an episode "Rogue" is from the stories of Russell starred in back in the early to mid '60s.  This is an episode about aliens cosplaying as real people in 19th-century England, while the Doctor has a romantic attraction to the main male guest star.  There's no way William Hartnell would have ever agreed to such a thing, but here in 2024 it's a completely reasonable thing for the show to do.

But yes, cosplay!  Apparently we have time-traveling bird aliens (the Chuldur, not the sort-of-similar-looking Jacondans from The Twin Dilemma) who wanted to dress up as Bridgerton characters (or the equivalent) not by having a convention but by going to the original time and place and taking over the forms of real people (killing them in the process) and pretending to be them.  When you stop to think about it it's an incredibly daft idea, but to the credit of new-to-the-series writers Kate Herron (of Loki fame) and Briony Redman, they make it work.  Of course, it doesn't hurt that there are other plotlines moving along to distract you, lest one become too silly at a given moment, but they do a good job of properly balancing all the strands and then making them come together.

Rogue meets the Doctor. ("Rogue") ©BBC

One of the most interesting strands is the titular character, a bounty hunter named Rogue.  He's here in 1813 Bath on the trail of the Chuldur, and when he encounters the Doctor, who isn't particularly hiding the fact that he's Not From Around Here, he jumps to the perhaps not unreasonable conclusion that he is in fact the Chuldur.  Jonathan Groff, playing Rogue, is clearly having a lot of fun in the role, and his chemistry with Ncuti Gatwa is palpable.  There's a charge in every scene they share, and it's a joy to watch.  The Doctor is in full flirt mode, critiquing Rogue's ship, listening to Kylie Minogue through his sound system, and working out his name comes from Dungeons & Dragons.  Even when Rogue is preparing to incinerate him, the Doctor feels like he's in charge, tossing his psychic paper against some controls to prove he's not a Chuldur, with images of all the previous Doctors, including the Fugitive Doctor and... is that Richard E. Grant?  Did the show just canonize the Shalka Doctor?  Outstanding.  Rogue and the Doctor feel like equals in a way we've rarely seen on the series -- the closest equivalent might be River Song, which feels appropriate.

And while the Doctor and Rogue are showing off to each other -- complete with each asking the other to travel with him -- Ruby is enjoying the dance and eavesdropping on a couple having a quiet but anguished debate: "I will not marry you," Lord Barton says to Miss Emily Beckett.   "Not now.  Not ever."  "Then go," Emily replies.  "You stole my heart, now leave me my reputation."  And even when Ruby accidentally interrupts, causing Lord Barton to leave, the basic scenario continues.  "Oh, this is so Bridgerton," Ruby exhales.  Of course, we know that Lord Barton is one of the Chuldur, along with the Duchess (played by Indira Varma, who you might remember as Suzie from Torchwood), so there's an undercurrent of danger that Ruby is unaware of.

But even with this danger, and the fact that we've seen multiple people killed by the Chuldur, the overwhelming sense throughout "Rogue" is one of fun.  Despite the joy that the fifteenth Doctor exudes, this has generally been a pretty solemn season, with racism, war, and ghost stories on display.  So this is a welcome contrast, a rollicking adventure that acts as a release of tension.  It's good to have a more typical Doctor Who tale, and it gives Gatwa the opportunity to blossom.  His storyline with Rogue soon takes center stage, with a glorious little moment as the Doctor decides to set a trap.  "We need to get the Duchess outside, on her own," he says, "and if there's one thing that attracts her, it's scandal.  And outrage and plot twists.  So, come on, Rogue.  Shall we?"  "I don't see how us dancing will create a scene," says Rogue, bemused.  "Then you should have researched this era a little more," the Doctor replies happily, "because we are scandalous."  This leads to the Doctor and Rogue dancing together, causing some ripples, presumably due to two men dancing together -- especially when they move into a tango.  Then they up the ante with the Doctor claiming offense, and Rogue, apparently not comfortable with improved dialogue, wordlessly moving to his knee in a sign of a proposal, causing the Doctor, who seems genuinely caught off-guard, to leave the room.  It's such a well-done scene, beautifully shot and acted, and both Gatwa and Groff do a great job of making us uncertain just how much they mean it.

"Find me." ("Rogue") ©BBC

There's so much joy in the Doctor, in fact, that it's a bit of a shock to see just how vengeful he is when he thinks the Chuldur have killed Ruby and taken her form.  "How long do they live for?" the Doctor asks Rogue about the Chuldur.  "They have a lifespan of 600 years," Rogue replied.  "Good," the Doctor says darkly.  "Good.  That's a long time to suffer."  But maybe that shouldn't be surprising; the fifteenth Doctor seems to be the most emotionally open of any of the Doctors we've seen, from the way he hugged the fourteenth Doctor in "The Giggle" to the rage he screamed out in "Dot and Bubble" to the many, many times we've seen this Doctor moved to tears.  This is a Doctor who feels things deeply, who's furious at the Chuldur for (he thinks) killing Ruby -- watch the incredibly sarcastic way he sets the triform trap around the Chuldur before telling them, "for the desecration of Ruby Sunday, you deserve only this" -- and who, when he learns Ruby isn't dead but is trapped, cannot bring himself to lose Ruby again, even though it put the Earth in tremendous danger.  And so Rogue does it for him, distracting the Doctor with a (really nice) kiss and grabbing the controller away before replacing Ruby with himself.  "Find me," he tells the Doctor as he presses the button, exiling both the Chuldur and himself to some unknown place and dimension.  Except the Doctor doesn't even know how to start looking for him, which makes it a sad ending.  The only thing the Doctor has is the ring Rogue gave him when he proposed.  (And what do you want to bet that will be significant if they do decide to bring Rogue back?)

So yes, a rather sad ending, but overall the mood of "Rogue" is one of fun.  It's a blast to watch the Doctor and Ruby in Regency-era dress, navigating through a fancy dance while dealing with shape-shifting bird aliens -- and meanwhile the chemistry between the Doctor and Rogue is so electric, you could happily watch them banter with each other forever.  It's a bit unusual, even now, over 60 years after the show debuted, to give the Doctor a romantic arc, but in this case it works really well.  "Rogue", quite simply, is a delight.

October 3: "Dot and Bubble"

It opens on a young white woman waking up and more or less immediately activating a floating device called a Dot, enclosing her in a Bubble (hence the episode title).  And so from the minute she wakes up she's talking to friends, watching someone sing and dance, and gossiping about outfits and such.  She can't even use the bathroom unless something shows up (the bluntly named "Dr. Pee") to let her know if she needs to or not.  In other words, it's the smartphone/social media episode.

It begins as a fun bubbly episode, with the generally vapid conversations belying the fact that something darker is going on in Finetime.  It starts small, with some people offline who normally wouldn't be, but the main character of this episode, Lindy Pepper-Bean, doesn't seem to believe that there's a problem.  She is completely dependent on her Dot and Bubble, choosing to spend her entire time inside it instead of looking at anything beyond.  And so when the Doctor messages her inside her Bubble, she blocks him, since he's an unsolicited request.  But when Ruby breaks in, posing as a systems check and asking her questions about the people around her, Lindy finally starts to realize that there's danger -- especially when she sees her coworker being eaten by a giant slug-like creature (called a Mantrap behind-the-scenes, according to the accompanying documentary series Doctor Who Unleashed).

Lindy and company watch Gothic Paul get eaten by a Mantrap. ("Dot
and Bubble") ©BBC

This means we get to see just how dependent on their Dots these people are, with Lindy being completely incapable of even walking unless she has an app telling her where to go.  Not only does she keep bumping into tables, but when a Mantrap appears in the lift she can't even walk away from it, and it's only because she wasn't on the menu yet that she's saved.  It's not terribly subtle, to be honest, but it's still reasonably entertaining, watching as Lindy gets incensed that the Doctor keeps bursting in into her Bubble and then is completely at a loss when her Dot runs out of battery.  And it may be incredibly dumb, but watching Lindy walk straight into a pole -- twice -- is still funny.  (It doesn't hurt that she's one of these people who refuse to believe the evidence in front of them, trying to retreat into their bubble (literally, in this case) to avoid dealing with any unpleasantness, meaning there's a certain satisfaction when she does walk into that pole.)  She's honestly pretty helpless, thanks to her dependency, so it's a good thing Ricky September is there to help her.

Ricky in some ways is presented as the opposite of Lindy.  Although he's a major popstar among all the rich kids in Finetime (it's only for people aged 17-27 who can afford to go), he spends most of his day without his Dot, choosing to read or explore.  This curiosity about the world he's living in sets him apart from everyone else, not needing to be glued to his Bubble to enjoy life, and you can't help but notice the message regarding smartphone use.  (There's also a part of me that wonders, looking at how attractive everyone in Finetime is made up to be, if there's also a critique about the kinds of actors cast in ostensibly dystopian environments in movies and television being raised here, given how put together everyone looks -- particularly Ricky, with a calculatedly messy hairstyle.)  Ricky is shown to be brave, smart, and kind, so it's perhaps inevitable that he would end up dead thanks to Lindy's selfishness -- there's no place for someone like Ricky in this world.  In fact, we learn that the whole place is like Lindy, shallow and self-centered, and that the Dots have apparently created the Mantraps to eliminate the population because they've become fed up with the lot of them.  As a commentary on smartphone use and the way social media frequently encourages shallowness, it's perhaps a bit on-the-nose, but there are worse sins to commit.

Except.

It turns out that in many ways the broad commentary on smartphones and social media has been disguising something much more subtle going on.  The last scene is a masterful reveal that makes you question everything about yourself as it reveals the real point of the episode: Finetime is populated by racists, who would rather risk their lives in an unknown wilderness that they are woefully unprepared for rather than accept help from a Black person.  Some people had a very strong negative reaction to this at the time, possibly because for many of them it felt like it came out of nowhere, a twist ending that wasn't justified.  And yet this is where the genius of this episode lies, because in retrospect all the signs are there: the way everyone in Finetime is white; the behaviour of Lindy toward the Doctor in a way that isn't how she treats Ruby; Lindy's comment to her friend group that "I know this is wrong, and when this is over, he is going to be so disciplined.  I can't wait. But...just give him a shot, okay?" followed up with "I think he's not as stupid as he looks"; her disgust at the Doctor and Ruby being in the same room; and, perhaps most damningly, when she comments, "Didn't I block you?  I knew it, I did.  I thought that you just looked the same" (emphasis mine).  This is lurking in the background of the entire episode, daring you to notice, not a twist so much as it is just a reveal.  I think it's worth quoting Russell T Davies in full, from the aforementioned episode of Doctor Who Unleashed, because it really gets to the heart of this:

It'll be interesting to see the response to this episode.  I think the main response to this episode is going to be about that ending.  What we can't tell is how many people will have worked that out before the ending, because they've seen white person after white person after white person, and television these days is very diverse.  I wonder, will you be 10 minutes into it, will you be 15, will you be 20 before you start to think everyone in this community is white.  And if you don't think that, why didn't you?  So that's going to be interesting.  I hope it's one of those pieces of television you'll see and always remember.  From the moment we cast Ncuti, everyone said to me, "Oh my God, what's it going to be like when he goes into the past?" Because a Black Doctor is going to face such racism.  You sit there going, what about now?  Why do you think racism is only in the past, when you look at what's happening to the world?

For myself, I did notice a number of those things, such as that everyone is white, but I explained it away for other reasons: the Doctor and Ruby aren't from Finetime and that's why they're being brushed off, Lindy's just upset, breaking into someone's Bubble is extremely taboo, that sort of thing.  I have to be honest and say that racism didn't occur to me as an explanation.  But clearly it should have, and maybe that says something about me and about society and how all-too-often we condemn overt racism but excuse more subtle forms as being about something else.

So if the episode had ultimately been just about social media, etc., that would be fine but perhaps not the most exciting thing in the world.  But it's the ending that really elevates this episode, where the survivors get to be explicitly racist, with comments such as "You, sir, are not one of us.  I mean, you were kind, although it was your duty to save me, obviously" and "If you'll turn away, ladies, before you're contaminated".  And the incredible, most Doctorish thing is that the Doctor decides he doesn't care: "I don't care what you think.  And you can say whatever you want.  You can think absolutely anything.  I will do anything if you just allow me to save your lives."  But obviously, they don't trust him and think he's inferior, so he walks away, leading to an absolutely astonishing performance from Ncuti Gatwa, where he starts to laugh, bending over, before screaming out his rage, spittle flying, because he doesn't want to believe people would behave like that.  (It's even more impressive a moment when you learn that was basically Gatwa's first day on set.)

So "Dot and Bubble" is a decent story that is really elevated by its ending, making you question everything you've seen up to that point and why you reacted the way you did.  That alone makes this episode worth watching and rewatching.  The smartphone stuff is kind of fun, but the real trick is how Davies has been skilfully weaving the real theme throughout the whole episode, wondering when you'd notice.  I wouldn't want the whole show to be like this, but I'm glad this episode exists.  Well done all around.

(Oh right, Susan Twist.  This time she's Lindy's mum, and it seems even the Doctor has started to notice that she keeps popping up...)

October 2: "73 Yards"

Only eight episodes this series and we still have a Doctor-lite episode?  (Actually it's because Ncuti Gatwa is off finishing up his commitments on Sex Education, not because they're trying to run two production blocks simultaneously.)

It's been a bit surprising, this series; normally it felt like you got one or two "experimental" episodes that push the boundaries of what the show is like and can do, things like "Love & Monsters", "Midnight", "Heaven Sent", or "It Takes You Away".  But so far it's felt like 3 of the last 4 episodes have been pushing those boundaries, with the craziness of "The Devil's Chord", the basically single small set of "Boom", and now the pure ghost story of "73 Yards".  It even starts unusually, with no opening credits for the fourth time ever.

The beginning is seemingly innocent enough: for the second time in as many episodes, the Doctor steps somewhere he shouldn't, this time accidentally breaking a fairy circle on a clifftop in Wales (well, the episode calls it a fairy circle, but this seems to be something constructed by people with string and messages, rather like a spirit trap, instead of a ring caused by mushrooms).  When Ruby bends down to read some of the messages, the Doctor apparently disappears, while in the distance a woman can be seen talking and gesturing.  But Ruby can neither approach her nor get her to leave her alone: instead the woman is always 73 yards away from Ruby.  And this set-up leads us into one of the stranger episodes of the entire series.

One benefit of the Doctor being gone is that the focus can now shift to Ruby, and Millie Gibson rises to the occasion.  On her own, she has to try and get to civilisation and then live her life while this woman constantly keeps following her, and you can see in Gibson's performance how confusion gives rise to annoyance, then to terror, and finally acceptance.  She has some wonderful moments throughout, such as her uneasiness in the pub, her anguish when her mother disowns her, or the way she apologises to Marti for not doing something sooner.  She also does a good job of aging the attitude of the character; Ruby in her 40s is less lively than Ruby in her 20s, seeming a bit older and more careworn -- not just because of the hair and makeup but also just in the way Gibson carries herself.  It's a really lovely performance that does a lot to deepen our understanding of Ruby and her character (even if it ultimately turns out none of this happened, at least in this way).

The script also does a good job of slowly building up the mystery, from a weird phenomenon of being followed to the first time Ruby asks someone to talk to the woman -- in this case, a hiker played by, you guessed it, Susan Twist.  "I haven't met you before, have I?" asks Ruby, in the first acknowledgement of Twist's repeated appearances.  "I don't think so," the hiker replies, confused.  "Have you?"  But in any case, when the hiker goes to talk to the woman she flees in terror.  This is the start of the pattern, as a pub-goer flees, then Ruby's own mother, and even Kate Lethbridge-Stewart (in a nice cameo), despite her claims that UNIT have training against psychic, telepathic, mesmeric, and witchcraft forces.  It serves to make Ruby increasingly isolated and powerless to stop this woman or get rid of her, something that the show reinforces by showing her distracted on dates and alone on her birthday over the next 20 years.

Amol Rajan interviews Roger ap Gwilliam. ("73 Yards") ©BBC

This time lapse, as we move from 2024 to 2046, moves the episode from creepy to something slightly different, as Ruby hears about a Welsh politician named Roger ap Gwilliam that the Doctor had mentioned right before he disappeared was a future Prime Minister who led the world to the brink of nuclear destruction.  Ruby decides to inveigle her way onto Gwilliam's campaign team, so that she can be just close enough to him to use the woman against him.  To be fair, Gwilliam does show that he's pretty terrible -- seeming to claim that he wants to fire a nuclear missile during an interview or whatever he's doing to Marti that causes her to declare that he's a monster -- so Ruby's actions aren't only based on an off-hand comment the Doctor made.  But when it's officially announced that Gwilliam will be Prime Minister, Ruby makes her move just by walking out onto a football pitch so that she's exactly 73 yards away from Gwilliam, which means he can talk to the woman, leading him to flee in terror.  Ruby has saved the world.

Except then the episode keeps going, and we see Ruby eventually turn into an old woman, who goes to visit the TARDIS one last time (now covered in moss) before somehow becoming the woman who's been keeping her distance, at which point she's transported back in time to the TARDIS's arrival in 2024 or so, where her presence distracts Ruby long enough to then distract the Doctor, so that he doesn't break the fairy circle.  So, er, does that mean the future isn't saved then?  It's only saved in that one divergent timeline that no longer exists?  And how did Ruby become the old woman, and did she just stay the same age for the next 60 years?

There's a slight feeling of a shaggy dog story at the end of this, where we get led on this journey that ultimately doesn't matter.  It's not even like Ruby remembers the events or anything.  We also don't get any sort of explanation for why any of this is happening -- although, to be fair, that seems to be part of the point.  Russell T Davies slyly lays his cards on the table at one point, as Kate remarks that "We see something inexplicable and invent the rules to make it work," but in this case he doesn't provide us with the rules; we're on our own as to come up with theories about why this is happening.  The first time around, I found that very frustrating when combined with the ending: we don't know why any of this occurred and none of it mattered anyway, so what's the point?  But this time around, knowing what kind of episode this is and where it's going, it was easier to see its virtues.  This is a ghost story about a haunting at a distance, and the tone and the mood is the driving force behind all this, more than any explanations or rationales.  In some ways airing at the end of May instead of like October does this episode a disservice.  This is a story designed to exude a certain spooky atmosphere, and on that front "73 Yards" is a clear winner.

October 1: "Boom"

We've had six episodes in a row by Russell T Davies, but now it's time for a different writer to take over, and that writer is...Steven Moffat?  Apparently everything old really is new again, as Moffat returns for the first time since 2017's "Twice Upon a Time".

"Boom" wears its primary inspiration on its sleeve, at least for fans versed in the 20th-century run: this is, at its heart, an expansion of the landmine sequence from Part One of Genesis of the Daleks (and Moffat has been forthright about that being where this stems from).  Here we have the Doctor stopping a war and saving a planet while being transfixed to one spot, trying very, very hard to remain calm.  It's a set-up that obviously lends itself naturally to lots of tension, and Moffat milks it for everything he's got.

Ruby prepares to hand the casket to the Doctor. ("Boom") ©BBC

If you're in a churlish mood, you can point out that it's almost formulaic, the way the story progresses: just as one problem is about to be solved a new one reares its head.  So just as the issue about weight distribution is addressed, then the dumbest kid on the planet shows up; once she's dealt with, a soldier shows up; then an ambulance appears; and so on and so forth.  However, to the credit of everyone involved, it's not something you really notice while you're watching.  Ncuti Gatwa has already impressed as the Doctor before this point, but here he dials it up even further: listening to him sing "Skye Boat Song" to calm his nerves, or start to babble as he tries to distract himself from his situation, or the way his voice just drips with contempt as he says, "Thoughts and prayers"... it's a fabulous performance, made even more impressive by the fact that Gatwa needs to deliver it basically standing still.  Millie Gibson perhaps doesn't get quite as much to do, but she still proves herself by being brave and willing to walk right up to the Doctor to hand over the casket (a euphemism for the compressed body of a soldier, looking like a cylinder) so that he has a better chance of properly shifting his weight so that the mine doesn't go off.

There's also the main Anglican marine, Mundy Flynn, who is initially hostile to the Doctor but then starts to come around as she realizes just how bad things would be if the Doctor activated the landmine.  Flynn is played Varada Sethu, who one month earlier had been announced as the Doctor's companion next series.  We'll have to wait and see if this is a deliberate choice, like Jenna Coleman in "Asylum of the Daleks" and "The Snowmen", or more like Freema Agyeman in "Army of Ghosts", but for a number of fans it made them sit up and take notice, though on the face of it Sethu seems to be playing a different character.  She does a good job of being both likeable and pigheaded, needing the Doctor and Ruby to talk her round but finally willing to trust the Doctor.  Joe Anderson as John Francis Vater and Bhav Joshi as Canterbury both do what's required of them, while Susan Twist (no longer in a cameo role!) hits just that right level of cruel niceties as the ambulance AI, meaning that you really dislike it.  Really the only weak link is Vater's daughter, Splice, and that has less to do with Caoilinn Springall's performance and more to do with the fact that she's simply too old: the script treats her like she's 4 or 5, while Springall is fairly clearly a few years older than that.  This means that most of the time her character ends up looking like an idiot, rather than a young kid; the scenes where she doesn't understand what happened to her dad (on a battlefield, mind you) make you wonder if there's something wrong with her.

But this is a Steven Moffat script, which means a lot of his obsessions and in-jokes are present and correct.  So it's set in the 51st century (that one's a bit subtle, but 2004 (Ruby's birth year) + 3082 = 5086, except it's 5 October so it's actually 5087), it features the Anglican Church as a military organization, the Doctor mentions fish fingers and custard, and he recites a poem about the moon and the President's wife that seems to be the same thing as something Missy mentioned during "The Magician's Apprentice".  The most overt reference, though, is the weapons manufacturer Villengard, which the ninth Doctor implies he destroyed in "The Doctor Dances" and which the twelfth Doctor visits the ruins of in "Twice Upon a Time".  Here Villengard seems to be in its prime, supplying weapons to the Anglicans and maintaining a casualty rate slightly above the acceptable number, so that the war continues and Villengard makes more money.  This means if it's not profitable to heal someone the roving ambulances will kill them instead, so as not to waste resources on them.  It may not be the most original critique of war profiteering ever, but that doesn't mean they shouldn't do it.  And this way you get to see the Doctor defeat the warmongers, even if the actual method is literally a deus ex machina.  Plus I like the way the enemy is handled, even if it is a bit too obvious that there's no enemy -- but the Doctor uses that as an opportunity for a critique:

DOCTOR: Ruby, stop that.  Hang on in there.  I still need you.  I can't think unless I'm talking, and I can only talk to you.  Mundy thinks that she's fighting the Kastarions, what do you think?  You figured it out yet?  I don't think Mundy's figured it out.
MUNDY: Figured what out?
DOCTOR: So this lot, Ruby, they came here, what, six months ago?  They set up their defences and fired their warning shots into the air.  "Watch out, we come in peace."  Yeah?
MUNDY: We advertised our presence.  It's standard procedure.
DOCTOR: Did you hear that, Ruby?  They advertised their presence.  And do you know what that does?  Ruby, that activates the Villengard algorithm.  The acceptable casualty rate algorithm.  Keeps you dying, keeps you buying.  Huh?  Do you get it?  Huh?  Do you get it? ... There's nobody else here.  You declared war on an empty planet.  There are no Kastarions in the mud, they're not in the fog.  There are no Kastarions.  Just the algorithm maintaining an acceptable casualty rate in the face of nothing at all.  You are fighting your own hardware and it's killing you at just the right amount to keep you buying more.  I mean, most armies would notice that they were fighting smoke and shadows, but not this lot, Ruby.  You know why?  'Cos they have faith. ... The magic word that keeps you never having to think for yourself.  Just surrender, Mundy.  Just stop, and it's all over.

(from The Doctor Who Transcripts - Boom)

It's perhaps Moffat's most anti-religion script, the way it dismisses faith and religion, although he does give a little bit of grace at the end: "Just because I don't like [faith] doesn't mean I don't need it, Mundy," the Doctor says.  That may not be to all tastes, of course, but it's more an aside than the main thrust of the episode, so it doesn't really ruin things if you disagree with him.

And the thing is, this really is a well-done story.  It's not perfect, of course, and some things may grate, depending on your general opinion of Steven Moffat, as this is a pretty Moffat-esque script.  But even with that, the production is so well done that any qualms about the storyline disappear like the fog being sucked up by the vacuum drones.  "Boom" is an excellent story that shows just how much you can do with basically a single set and a handful of characters.  This is one of the standout episodes of series 14.

September 30: "The Devil's Chord"

Now this is a bit of trivia for you: not counting Resurrection of the Daleks (which doesn't really count anyway since it was broadcast as one episode per day), this is the first time two full-length episodes of Doctor Who have debuted on the same day, as "The Devil's Chord" went out immediately after "Space Babies" (perhaps they were worried no one would come back if that was the last thing they'd seen for a week).

This is certainly a stronger episode than "Space Babies" was, but more than that, you can see why they aired it back-to-back with the previous one: in tandem, these two episodes do a really good job of showing off what Doctor Who can do.  If "Space Babies" was about the future and space and monsters, this is about the past and visiting celebrities and human-seeming villains; as a contrast, it works really well.  But while I can see why they aired it second, part of me wonders if it might not have been better a little later in the series.

On the surface that's a bit surprising, because, while there were some hints of oddness in that opening scene, in general this starts like a fairly typical celebrity historical.  We meet some people who sound like and slightly resemble the Beatles, someone else who looks more like Cilla Black (although she wouldn't be signed by Brian Epstein until September 1963, but never mind), and a general puzzle regarding what's wrong with music.  It's not until Maestro, the main villain, makes their presence known to the Doctor that things go sideways, as they start to distort the story around them.  And honestly, that's not really a bad thing!  Some of the best stories have a sudden shift that changes what you thought was happening.  So what's off about this one?

Part of the issue may be the more experimental (for lack of a better word) nature of Maestro.  Played to the hilt by Jinkx Monsoon, Maestro is a gloriously scene-chewing villain, clearly relishing every moment.  Maestro is explicitly named as one of the Toymaker's children (from "The Giggle", if you'd forgotten), and in fact the giggle itself heralds their presence to the Doctor.  If the Toymaker was all about games, then Maestro is about music.  But where the Toymaker wanted to play games, Maestro just wants to consume music, trying to make it so that there's nothing left but the Aeolian tones of the universe, devouring even the music of the spheres.  "That lament will be my symphony supreme," Maestro proclaims.  So we get a villain who seems incredibly powerful and wonderfully camp, having a ball while they destroy everything.  But we've had that kind of thing before, so what's different here?

The Doctor confronts Maestro, who is holding Ruby captive. ("The
Devil's Chord") ©BBC

Is it too weird?  This is a story, after all, that features CG musical staves grabbing people and dragging them around.  (Which also leads to a wonderful, slightly bizarre joke about the Doctor commenting that he thought the music that grabs Ruby was non-diagetic (in other words, not heard by the characters).  Does that mean he hears Murray Gold or Dudley Simpson or Paddy Kingsland as he travels through time and space?)  The sight of the music flying around is reminiscent of the music battle from 2022's Doctor Strange in the Multiverse of Madness, so there's also an element of magic involved -- we're rather a long way away from the Doctor's "there's no such thing as magic" position of The Dæmons.  It also seems to hinge on the idea that no one before Timothy Drake (the instructor at the top of the episode) had played that particular tritone before, which seems unlikely.  So it relies on coincidence and it's borderline magic.  It also feels an awful lot like the confrontation with the Toymaker in "The Giggle", when he pulled the Doctor and Donna into a theater -- only this time it's a stage in the ruined Earth of Ruby's time if Maestro isn't stopped, Pyramids of Mars-style.  Coincidence, magic, and familiarity then.

But that's the thing.  None of that should really matter, and viewed in isolation, it works really well.  No, the main issue is that this episode feels out of place.  The Doctor and Ruby seem too familiar with each other, as if they've been travelling together for some time now, and Ruby mentions at one point that she thinks it might be June for her now, which would suggest this was initially intended to be later in the season.  But this issue really manifests itself in the Doctor's reaction to Maestro.  He seems completely terrified by them, to the point where he runs away and hides.  And at this point, we just don't know the fifteenth Doctor well enough to know just how atypical this is.  (His description of the events of "The Giggle" also seem to imply a much more fearful encounter from the Doctor's perspective than what it looked like in that episode.  Maybe Maestro is also making a noise at 17 Hz to scare the Doctor, like the Bogeyman in "Space Babies".)  Is Maestro really that scary, or is the fifteenth Doctor a bit of a coward?  It doesn't seem likely, but the point is that we don't know for sure yet: we haven't seen Fifteen in action enough.

So by no means is it a bad episode, and the performances from the main cast are once again excellent, with Gatwa and Gibson clearly both having a blast.  It's got a weird ending, sure, as if they wanted a dance number but couldn't figure out how to put it into the episode proper, so they just tacked it on to the end, but that's not the worst thing ever.  But it's got great energy, an interesting premise, and a sense of the show stretching itself, to demonstrate it can do more than slightly silly space stories.  If it had aired later in the season (maybe around episode 5), with a better established relationship with Ruby and more familiarity with this Doctor, I don't think I would have as many reservations.  I can see why they moved it up to episode 2; I just kind of wish they hadn't.

(There's always a (Susan) Twist: in this case she's the tea lady charging half a crown for two cups of tea.)

September 29: "Space Babies"

We've had a Christmas special, but now it's time, nearly 5 months later, for the regular season to begin.  And like the previous season, series 14 also consists of 8 episodes plus a special.  Series 13 was that way due to COVID; series 14 is that way because... the previous series was?  It's not really clear why.

But in any event this is basically the start of the new series.  So, Russell T Davies appears to have decided, this would be a good time to reintroduce the basic premise and rules of the show.  (Maybe Disney also requested this?)  But the result is rather clunky: we get a bunch of exposition about who the Doctor is and how the show works (right down to explaining what TARDIS stands for), along with a slightly odd sequence where Ruby steps on a butterfly and turns into a lizard person (though not a Silurian) until the Doctor somehow resurrects the butterfly.  The sequence manages to be both clunky and really bizarre -- they did a much better job with Bill in "Thin Ice".

The Doctor and Ruby with the space babies. ("Space Babies") ©BBC

But then this whole episode is rather bizarre.  On an intellectual level I can appreciate the chutzpah in making the main characters a bunch of talking babies running a spaceship; I'm just not convinced they pull it off.  Part of the issue is that babies aren't actors, so they can't deliver performances.  The baby playing Eric, for instance, perpetually looks incredibly unhappy, even when he's meant to be happy.  They try, of course, with the voice actors and the CG lip sync, but it never quite works.  It doesn't help that we never really get the sense, after an initial "checking readings" bit, that these babies (who are also 6 years old?  That also never quite makes sense) are really running things.  But then maybe it's just an illusion to give the babies something to do, I suppose.  Certainly it seems like Jocelyn is the one actually trying to run the station, posing as the computer NAN-E so that she doesn't "see them die.  And I don't want them to see me die."  Making the computer actually just one overworked person is a clever idea, and it leads to some entertaining moments -- if they'd run with that a bit more, it might have been more interesting.  Unfortunately, however, they instead spend a bunch of time dealing with the monster of the week, which is, let's face it, a snot monster.  This has the real feel of Davies noticing the similarities between Bogeyman and the slang word "bogey" and deciding to build a monster around it.  In that regard it's very reminscient of the eye-booger monsters from "Sleep No More" and is about as believable.

So once again this means it's up to Gatwa and Gibson to carry the episode.  To his credit, Gatwa is so exuberant as the Doctor, marveling at everything, that he is in fact able to do a lot of the work of making this entertaining.  Watching him coo over "space babies" or wonder why he's frightened of the Bogeyman is a joy.  There's also the throwaway comment suggesting the Star Trek universe is real (unless he's suggesting visiting the soundstage or something), which is wonderfully cheeky.  Meanwhile, Millie Gibson is doing a good job of being both the audience identification and showing why the Doctor chose her, being both brave and smart, such as when she works out the actual computer has designed the station to basically be a children's story.  The word for her is plucky, and she fulfills the role admirably, being clever without being annoying.  That said, there's a weird moment where the Doctor is asking if there was a note left when Ruby was dropped off at the church, and it starts snowing.  It's not at all clear why, but this at least seems to be an ongoing mystery through the whole series, given the final scene.  But even so, it's a strange little moment.

The ending is also a bit strange.  I get Jocelyn wanting to get rid of the Bogeyman, and I understand why the Doctor wants to save it.  I don't really get why the babies are so upset that the thing that's been terrorizing them is being destroyed.  Even a line or two might have helped explained this, but as is it's because the babies are just good?  Or something?  And then the whole thing ends with basically a fart joke, as there's been a build-up of methane that the Doctor expels to propel the station to a refugee planet.  If they'd leaned into that it might have been audacious enough to be worth it, but the way it's presented it's just another weird moment in an episode filled with weird moments.

Because that's the thing with this episode.  It's competently made and the performances from the adult actors are enjoyable, but it never really coheres into anything.  There's a veiled comment about abortion ("So the planet down below refused to stop the babies being born, but once they're born, they don't look after them?" Ruby asks.  "It's a very strange planet," Jocelyn replies.  "It's not that strange," Ruby says), but just like the rest of it, it's a moment that never snowballs.  The problem with "Space Babies" is that there's almost nothing to engage with.  It's a silly premise that they don't push nearly far enough in any given direction, either with the babies in charge or any sort of social commentary or anything at all, really.  As with the last episode, this is an episode that, if it succeeds at all, is due to performances -- but "Space Babies" doesn't even have the fantasy vibe to fall back on.  I appreciate the absurdity of the main conceit; I just wish they'd done more with it.

(This week's Susan Twist appearance: Comms officer Gina Scalzi, signing off duty on the Babystation.)

September 28: "The Church on Ruby Road"

After three episodes of celebrating the series, it's now time to look forward with a new Doctor.  Same logo and titles though, which is perhaps slightly surprising, since I'd sort of figured that was just for the 60th.  But I suppose if you've spent all that time and money branding things with the new logo, you don't want to immediately get rid of it.

But here we are at the start of series 14 -- and it is series 14, no matter what Disney or anyone else says.  I get it's not sexy to start your new show at 14 (and runs the risk of people asking where 1-13 are), but trying to pretend this is "season one" is disingenuous.  It gets even slightly dafter when you consider that the first three episodes Disney put on their streaming service were the 60th anniversary specials, so they've already admitted there's a whole bunch of the show that's not on their streaming service.  (Not that you'd know it through their interface; when you click on "Doctor Who" the fourteenth Doctor is nowhere to be found -- those are apparently "Doctor Who Special 1-3" and something completely different.)  And besides, we've already had a season one and it starred William Hartnell.

Sorry, where was I?  Ah, that's right.

It's the start of series 14 and, more importantly, for the first time since 2017, Doctor Who is back on Christmas Day (instead of the New Year's Day experiment Chibnall tried).  This means that once again we get a festive opening, with Christmas trees and decorations and such.  But unlike some other Christmas episodes, this time the focus is not so much on Christmas as it is on our incoming companion: Ruby Sunday (which, let's be honest, isn't a great name since it sounds like an off-brand Rolling Stones song).  And so we (and the Doctor) follow Ruby around a bit, seeing that she seems to be a magnet for bad luck for some reason.  This, by the way, lets us see the fifteenth Doctor in a white tank top and kilt, dancing in a club -- something it's a bit difficult to imagine many, if any, of the other Doctors doing, yet Gatwa makes it seem completely natural.  But yes, we learn that Ruby is a musician (complete with another Susan Twist appearance), a foundling who was adopted by a loving foster mother, and unlucky.  It's those last two qualities that the episode is going to mainly focus on, with the last one, it seems, related to the second: there are goblins stalking Ruby, making her life seem unlucky, so that the coincidence of a baby arriving to be fostered on the same day of the year as Ruby was found will make the baby more appetizing to the goblins who are going to eat the baby.  Or something.  To be honest, it's a bit difficult to follow the rationale here.  I get that the goblins like coincidence, but I'm not sure how bad luck plays into it.  Does it make people more memorable or something and thus more prone to coincidence?  Are coincidences and bad luck related somehow?  It's never really clear.

Ruby and the Doctor cling to the goblins' ladder. ("The Church on Ruby
Road") ©BBC

But then in some ways it doesn't matter.  There's almost a dream logic at work here, with goblins operating a flying cloud ship that's held together and powered by knots and who come down and kidnap babies to eat.  Oh, and who can "bimble" through time.  We get some handwavy stuff about a science based on luck which is a different form of physics, but even that feels token at best, a way to say, "don't worry about it, just enjoy the episode".  This is one of the most overt dalliances with out-and-out fantasy that the show's ever had; whether you like that or not may come down to personal preference.

In terms of the story, the most successful part is the moment where the goblins go back in time and take baby Ruby away from the church she was left at back in 2004, because we get a glimpse into the life of Ruby's mother Carla if she'd never fostered and then adopted Ruby.  It's a much colder and less cheery life, and Michelle Greenidge, playing Carla, does an excellent job of showing us the subtle differences, seeming much more tired and worn-down in the Ruby-less timeline.  It's a nice way of showing how someone can make a difference in others' lives, without being too flashy or twee.  That's where the real meat of the episode is, not in singing goblins and flying ships.  Not that those bits aren't entertaining, mind, and there's something wonderfully audacious not just having a jolly pop song about eating babies but then having Ncuti Gatwa and Millie Gibson join in to sing their own verses.  It's just that those bits don't resonate in the same way as the parts with Carla, or the Doctor admitting he recently learned he was adopted.

Oh!  But we haven't properly discussed Ncuti Gatwa or Mille Gibson yet!  It's perhaps not much of a surprise, given his performance in "The Giggle", but nevertheless Gatwa completely owns every scene he's in.  His Doctor is confident and fun-loving, and there's no hint of uncertainty in Gatwa's performance.  The exuberance on display is infectious, and you want to see more of him, both marveling at the universe and in the quieter moments, such as the aforementioned "adoption" scene or his interactions with Ruby-less Carla.  He simply is the Doctor.  Against that Millie Gibson does a good job of holding her own.  There was a slight worry, in the publicity leading up to this episode, that Ruby was going to be another version of Rose Tyler, but she manages to sidestep that for the most part.  She's engaging to watch, letting Ruby's kindness come through along with her pluck, and it doesn't feel like Ruby's just another Rose.

So like I said, appreciation of this story likely depends on just how much pure fantasy you want in Doctor Who.  I'm personally a bit ambivalent about it, but fortunately the performances of the cast carry the show, so that even if you do wonder just what's up with those goblins, you don't find yourself completely bored or disconnected from the story.  This story succeeds on the shoulders of Gatwa, Gibson, Greenidge, and the rest of the cast, much more so than the script itself.  And sometimes that's enough.

(Oh, and what's the deal with Mrs. Flood?  How does she know what a TARDIS is?)

September 27: "The Giggle"

We've now reached the third and final of the 60th Anniversary specials.  It's a bit odd; for every other Doctor, we've never quite known when their tenure will end (even Eccleston got three days after "Rose" before his departure was announced), but the fourteenth Doctor's time has always been limited to these three specials.  This Doctor has always been on borrowed time, and now that time is up.  And this time, an old enemy is returning -- fitting for a 60th anniversary special.  So we start at the dawn of television, as John Logie Baird's assistant is sent to buy a dummy to use as the test subject, where he enters a toy store run by a man with a (deliberately) cod German accent.  "What a game we are playing," the man says, after he's informed the dummy is to be used for a television experiment.  And so when we see the television transmit the image of the dummy, Stooky Bill, we also hear a strange giggle as the dummy catches on fire, due to the intensity of the lights -- a giggle that's going to have a pretty dramatic impact on humanity 98 years later...

And so after the end of the previous episode, where we saw the entire world gone mad for some reason, UNIT wastes no time picking up the Doctor and Donna and transporting them to UNIT HQ, which now looks vaguely like Avengers Tower from the Marvel movies.  (Guess they had the time and money to build a new skyscraper after the last one went boom in "The Power of the Doctor".)  We get to see Kate Stewart again, along with Shirley Anne Bingham and, gloriously, the Doctor's old companion Mel.  "I travelled the stars with good old Sabalom Glitz," she tells the Doctor.  "He lived till he was 101. ... He had this great big Viking funeral, and then I thought, time to go home.  So I got a lift off a zingo and came back to Earth." (So that explains why she was on Earth to have a cameo in "The Power of the Doctor".)  "But then I had to face up to the one thing I'd been running away from.  I've got nothing.  My family are all gone.  Remember?" she adds, presumably referring to how she first met the Doctor -- something we don't actually know about, as you may recall.  "But then Kate offered me a job, and... here I am."  It's nice to see all these new and old faces together at UNIT, giving the Doctor a base to work from without needing to take time to establish his knowledge and credentials.  UNIT itself is something of a callback, of course, but including Mel is also a good way of referring back to the past, of saying that, here during this anniversary, it's the entirety of the show that's being celebrated, not just series 4.

The Toymaker and the Doctor prepare to play a game. ("The Giggle")
©BBC

Of course, the bigger callback is the villain, played with gusto and delight by Neil Patrick Harris: the Toymaker, last seen on-screen in 1966, has finally returned.  (The Doctor thinks that business with the salt last episode gave the Toymaker the opportunity to enter our reality, but we never quite get that confirmed.)  It's something of a bold move, bringing back a character that only appeared once in a story that's now 75% missing³⁰², but that alternately means Davies has a bit more freedom with the character, because the audience won't have much of a fixed image in their minds, the way they do with, say, the Cybermen.  And so the Toymaker places the laughing Stooky Bill in every screen ever, waiting for the moment the entire world has access to a screen in order to drive them mad, making them believe they're always right, so that they always win.  "I made every opinion supreme.  That's the game of the 21st century.  They shout and they type and they cancel.  So I fixed it.  Now everybody wins."  "And everyone loses," the Doctor points out.  "The never-ending game," the Toymaker replies.  To be honest, Stooky Bill giggling in every screen a really strange threat, with no explanation given as to how that actually works.  It's a bit easier to swallow when you learn it's due to the Toymaker, who doesn't seem to be bound by our universe's rules, but even before that the Doctor states it like it's a plausible explanation, which is a bit more difficult to credit.³⁰³  But in some ways it doesn't matter; this is really about the Doctor versus the Toymaker.  "I came to this universe with such delight," the Toymaker crows.  "And I played them all, Doctor.  I toyed with supernovas, turned galaxies into spinning tops.  I gambled with God and made him a jack-in-the-box.  I made a jigsaw out of your history.  Did you like it?  The Master was dying and begged for his life with one final game, and when he lost, I sealed him for all eternity inside my gold tooth."  The Toymaker seems to delight in playing with the Doctor, taunting him and providing him with a labyrinth of corridors to become lost in.  And so when the Doctor challenges the Toymaker to a game and then loses, the Toymaker seems delighted -- until the Doctor points out that that means the series is tied: "I won the game many years ago, you've won today, which leaves us equal."  (I guess that means the unmade sixth Doctor story The Nightmare Fair, from the original, cancelled season 23, never happened.)  So that means they're having one final confrontation ("Best of three") back in 2023.

In some ways this story is a massive cheat; it feels energetic and fun, but when you stop to think about it you realize not much actually happens.  The Toymaker causes the world to go mad, sure, but when you come right down to it, the Doctor investigates the Toymaker back in 1925, loses a game, and then confronts him again in the present day.  There's not much in the way of complications or twists (well, other than the big one, which I'll get to in a moment).  So it's a credit to the writing, the direction, and the acting that it never really feels like that while you're watching.  It's suitably creepy watching the Doctor discover a human turned into a puppet who then turns into a puppet version of the Doctor himself, and it's tremendously entertaining seeing Donna respond to getting attacked by a bunch of wooden dolls (Stooky Bill's family) by beating the hell out of the mother and terrifying the puppet children into submission.  The scene where the Toymaker points out how traumatic the Doctor's life under Steven Moffat was (notice how every companion of the 11th and 12th Doctors shows up, while only the Flux gets mentioned from Chibnall's time) is a delight, and the moment where he dances around to the Spice Girls, turning bullets into rose petals and soldiers into balloons, is a wonder of direction and editing.  It's a story where the flaws only really show up in hindsight; while you're watching it's easy to get sucked in, which is something Doctor Who has occasionally struggled with the last couple series.

David Tennant bigenerates into Ncuti Gatwa. ("The Giggle") ©BBC

But yes, the twist.  The Toymaker has taken control of a big laser gun (all right, the Galvanic Beam) owned by UNIT and threatens UNIT with it.  And after the Doctor tells the Toymaker that "your fight is with me", the Toymaker shoots the Beam straight through the Doctor.  "I played the first game with one Doctor.  I played the second game with this Doctor.  Therefore, your own rules have decreed I play the third game with the next Doctor!"  And as Donna and Mel rush to his side, we realize that this is it: the fourteenth Doctor is about to regenerate.  His time is up, and as I watched this the first time I found myself wishing he could stay around for a little longer.  But that's the nature of the show.  "Here we go again," the Doctor says.  "Allons-y!"

Except then... he doesn't.  "Erm," the Doctor says, as the regeneration energy fades away, leaving the audience wondering what's going on.  Then we get something completely mad, as the Doctor splits into both his old self and his new self, leaving both of them standing there, both very much alive.  "Bigeneration!" the new Doctor exclaims.  "I have bigenerated!  There's no such thing.  Bigeneration is supposed to be a myth, but... look at me!"  Ncuti Gatwa emerges more or less fully-formed, and he's clearly having a blast as the Doctor, full of life and verve, literally dancing around.  And so here, during the 60th celebration of the show, Davies gets to have his cake and eat it too, by having not just the brand-new Doctor arrive but letting the old one also stick around -- in other words, he gives the fourteenth Doctor a happy ending, one that isn't marked by his death.  Is bigeneration sort of ridiculous?  Sure, but I don't know that it's any more ridiculous than regeneration itself -- we've just had 57 more years to come to terms with that.  This also means we do in fact get a bit of a multi-Doctor story for the 60th, just not in a way anyone really expected.  It's bold and cheeky and I find I don't actually mind one bit.

And so after the Doctors defeat the Toymaker in a game of catch and banish him from the universe ("My legions are coming," he cries as he's flattened, folded up, and put into a box, similarly to how his toy store was folded up -- oh, and this is the part where I feel compelled to mention a hand picking up the gold tooth containing the Master, in a conscious echo of the picking up of the Master's ring from "Last of the Time Lords"), it gives us a chance to breathe, and, perhaps more importantly, for the fourteenth Doctor to be confronted by his new self:

DOCTOR 15: Our whole lifetime.  That Doctor that first met the Toymaker never, ever stopped.  Put on trial, exiled, Key to Time, all the devastation of Logopolis.
DOCTOR 14: Adric.
DOCTOR 15: Adric.  River Song.  All the people we lost.  Sarah Jane has gone.  Can you believe that for a second?
DOCTOR 14: I loved her.
DOCTOR 15: I loved her.  And Rose.  But the Time War, Pandorica, Mavic Chen.  We fought the Gods of Ragnarok!  And we didn't stop for a second, to say, what the hell?
DOCTOR 14: But you're fine.
DOCTOR 15: I'm fine because you fixed yourself.  We're Time Lords.  We're doing rehab out of order.

(from The Doctor Who Transcripts - The Giggle)

So we get a celebration, with the fifteenth Doctor creating a second TARDIS, thanks to the Toymaker ("We won the game.  You get a prize, honey, and here is mine!" he exclaims, giving the TARDIS a big whack with a carnival hammer and creating a duplicate), and letting the fourteenth Doctor get the adventure he has yet to have: stopping and staying in one place and time (but with his own TARDIS to stop him from getting bored), to be part of a family.  To grow roots.  The show will continue with the fifteenth Doctor, but this is a way to give the departing fourteenth Doctor a happy ending, a place to call home after he not only lost Gallifrey but learned he didn't even know where his real home was.  (And to make David Tennant available for cameos in the show's future, should he ever want to.)  It's really sweet, seeing him as part of Donna's family, with other friends like Shirley and "mad Auntie Mel" also happily gathered around.

As I said, "The Giggle" isn't actually the most exciting episode in terms of plot, but it's presented with such zest that you hardly even notice, let alone mind.  There's a sense of supreme confidence at work here, as if everyone involved knows this will be good and are giving it their all.  It's wild, it's manic, and above all it's fun.  "The Giggle" sees the show once again firing on all cylinders.

But then this whole set of specials has been like that.  There's such an obvious joy to things: it's clear that David Tennant and Catherine Tate are thrilled to be back, and Russell T Davies is clearly enjoying giving them more adventures.  These three episodes may not have been as overtly festive as, say, The Five Doctors, but there's still clear links to the past and a celebration of the entire history of the show, from Hartnell to Whittaker and beyond.  (And it's interesting to note how much more comfortable Davies seems here with referencing the past than he did during his first tenure as showrunner, as if he can relax a bit now that the show is once again familiar and generally beloved (with most of it available for the curious on iPlayer).)  Recasting a previous Doctor as the latest version could have gone badly wrong, a sign that the show was trying to play it safe or, worse, desperately trying to recapture its glory days, but they walk the line on this so well that part of you wonders how you could have ever doubted them in the first place.  Plus, by giving Gatwa so much more to do in this episode than incoming Doctors normally get, it gives us a clear sign that the show is in safe hands and that the fifteenth Doctor will be worth watching just as much as the fourteenth.  This may have been an anniversary and a chance to look back, but the future looks as bright as ever.







³⁰² Although since this episode aired they've released a surprisingly decent (given how poor it looks in still frames) animated reconstruction of the original story on Blu-ray and DVD.
³⁰³ The novelisation tries to account for this by saying all screens have either burn-in (for CRTs) or burned out pixels (for newer screens), and that's where Stooky Bill's image is.  Not sure I buy that either, but it's more than the televised version provides.

September 26: "Wild Blue Yonder"

In the promotional material for these three specials, there was a lot made out of the fact that the first special was an adaptation of Doctor Who and the Star Beast, complete with photo-friendly aliens, while the third special played up the fact that Neil Patrick Harris was the main guest star.  This second special, however, received comparatively little in the way of advance publicity, making it something of a mystery.  It turns out that's because there's really not any special aliens or guest stars in this: it's basically a chamber piece, with just four characters -- and two of those characters are played by the other two actors.  And yet despite the lack of flashiness, this might be the best of the three specials.

It's not completely guest-star-free, mind: we do get a cold open with Isaac Newton greeting his housekeeper Mrs. Merridew (played by Susan Twist -- this will become important next series) before going to contemplate the universe, only to find the TARDIS crashing into the apple tree he's sitting under.  To Davies' credit, he at least has Newton come to his gravity realization before the Doctor arrives, but nevertheless the scene is rather silly and actually slightly at odds with the tone of the rest of the piece.  The "mavity" "joke" is one thing³⁰¹, but the Doctor and Donna seem much cheerier about their situation here than when the episode actually starts.

But the main thrust of this episode is the Doctor and Donna, trapped on a spaceship at the edge of the universe while the TARDIS, mending itself after Donna's coffee spill, departs thanks to the Hostile Action Displacement System (another little callback to the show's past).  There's a really great moment where the two of them start to tear into each other before the Doctor visibly pulls himself short and moves on, apologizing to Donna.  I also like the part where Donna realizes what the HADS activating means: "There's something on this ship that's so bad the TARDIS ran away?" Donna asks.  "Yes," the Doctor replies.  "Then we go," Donna states, "and kick its arse!"

But despite Donna's proclamation, there's nothing immediately obvious threatening the pair of them.  Instead, we're presented with a puzzle: a giant, seemingly abandoned spaceship out so far no stars are visible, with an unknown language occasionally speaking, an old robot moving very slowly, and the spaceship periodically rearranging itself.  The ship was placed in shutdown, three years ago an airlock opened and closed, but otherwise there doesn't seem to be anyone there.  However, during the Doctor's efforts to bring the ship back online (with an utterly delightful moment where, after Donna asks if the substance coating some rectangular circuit-board-like things is dangerous, the Doctor says, "No," tastes it, and starts to choke -- with the music swelling dramatically -- before revealing he's just faking it to an annoyed Donna), we start to see something strange: the Doctor seems to be in two places at once.  But this isn't some sort of time travel scenario: instead it seems there are two doppelgangers on board, a Doctor and a Donna.  "I don't know why, but the arms are so very difficult," the fake Doctor says, as his arms become unnaturally long, dragging along the floor.

The real and fake Doctors and Donnas encounter each other. ("Wild Blue
Yonder") ©BBC

And from that moment on, things shift and become first a form of body horror, with heavily distorted Doctor and Donna copies chasing the real thing down the long central corridor, and then a more psychological terror, as the Doctor and Donna become separated from each other, meaning they can't tell if they next meet the real version or the copy.  The body horror is one type of terror, with distended limbs, bulging eyes, and joints not bending properly.  But to me the psychological terror is more effective, because it's not just that these "not-things" (as they refer to themselves as at one point) look like the Doctor and Donna -- it's that they're copying their minds as well as their forms.  This means they can't even do the usual "tell me something only you would know" trick, because the not-things know everything the real versions know.  Davies not only takes this opportunity to increase the tension but also explicitly refer back to the events of the last two series:

DONNA: You don't know where you're from.
DOCTOR: How do you know that?  How does anyone know?  How does Donna know?
DONNA: Back on Earth, when I was the DoctorDonna, I saw your mind.  I've had 15 years without you, and I saw everything that's happened to you since and, oh, my God, it hurt.
DOCTOR: You're saying this to break me down.
DONNA: We haven't stopped to talk.  We haven't had a chance.  It's always like that with you, running from one thing to the next.  I saw it.  In your head.  The Flux.
DOCTOR: It destroyed half the universe because of me.  We stand here now on the edge of creation, a creation which I devastated.  So, yes, I keep running.  Of course I do.  How am I supposed to look back on that?

(from The Doctor Who Transcripts - Wild Blue Yonder)

I'll be honest; I half-expected the Flux in particular to be just quietly forgotten, so it's nice to actually have it come up again, and to see that it actually did deeply affect the Doctor.  The moment after he escapes from the not-Donna and then gives in to his anger for a moment, punching and kicking a wall and letting out an anguished scream, is a striking one, played to perfection by Tennant.  But then both Tennant and Tate deserve kudos for playing both versions of their characters so well, pitching their copy performances at exactly the right level to be frightening without going too far.

It helps that this script is written so well.  There's something compelling about a doppelganger story that you can't reason your way out of.  It means the Doctor can't just outthink the not-things, because if he's thinking something then so is his copy.  The Doctor tries to resort to trickery, such as with the salt superstition, but ultimately it becomes a matter not of outwitting the not-things at all, but simply working out what the captain of the ship did when she found the not-things were on her ship.  We get a satisfying explanation for why the not-things are trying to scare the Doctor and Donna, and how the captain outwitted them: the not-things need things to be fast in order to copy them, so the captain deliberately set the ship to self-destruct very slowly, hoping the not-things wouldn't work out what was going on.  The clues are there, and nothing about this feels arbitrary or a cheat.  The worst you could say is that the Doctor and Donna don't really do much to stop the not-things; it's more just that they work out what the captain did and then make sure her plan is carried out.  But that's not much of a complaint, and it's honestly one of Davies' tighter scripts, bringing to mind other standouts like "Midnight" or "Gridlock".

So it's well-written, it's superbly acted, it looks gorgeous for the most part -- with only a couple dodgy effects shots -- and, after a cryptic bit of foreshadowing ("I invoked a superstition at the edge of the universe, where the walls are thin and all things are possible.  I've just got this feeling"), it's even got an appearance from Bernard Cribbins, making his final appearance as Wilfred Mott, filmed shortly before he died in 2022.  What more could you want?  It may not be the flashiest story ever, but the mood "Wild Blue Yonder" creates is more than enough to compensate.  This is one to treasure.

Right, that's two-for-two so far.  Can they go for a hat-trick?







³⁰¹ This bit gets more daft the more you think about it.  First of all, the word "gravity" predates Newton's use, so it's not like he coined the word; he just coined that particular use of it.  (The word comes from the Latin gravitas, or "weight" -- hence Donna's comment to Newton.)  But moreover, while Newton used the word to define the physical property, there are earlier uses that convey a similar meaning, so the word isn't completely novel.  So for Newton to think the word is "mavity" -- something that has no likely antecedent in Latin, Greek, or, say, French -- instead of a word he's likely already familiar with, albeit in a slightly different context, is absurd.  (And unfortunately, this is going to turn into something of a running gag even beyond the handful of times it happens in this episode.)