Series 10 (Aug 7 - Aug 20)

August 7: "The Return of Doctor Mysterio"
August 8: "The Pilot"
August 9: "Smile"
August 10: "Thin Ice"
August 11: "Knock Knock"
August 12: "Oxygen"
August 13: "Extremis"
August 14: "The Pyramid at the End of the World"
August 15: "The Lie of the Land"
August 16: "Empress of Mars"
August 17: "The Eaters of Light"
August 18: "World Enough and Time"
August 19: "The Doctor Falls"
August 20, 2018: "Twice Upon a Time"

August 7: "The Return of Doctor Mysterio"

It's been a full year since a new episode of Doctor Who has been on our screens, and while some exciting stuff has happened in the meantime (including currently-missing story The Power of the Daleks getting an animated reconstruction for its 50th anniversary and David Tennant doing a set of tenth Doctor audios for Big Finish), this still feels like something of an event: Doctor Who is finally back, with the punning title "The Return of Doctor Mysterio".  ("Punning" because Doctor Who is frequently called Doctor Misterio in Latin America (dating back to the '60s), and Steven Moffat has recently learned this from his 2015 Doctor Who World Tour.)  And so our very first shot of the episode features...Comic Sans?!  No!  The bane of typeface fans everywhere!  Although it does appear in a comic book, so maybe it's more forgivable.  And that's here because Doctor Who has decided to tackle the current trend of superheroes.

And so we get an affectionate opening, with the Doctor and a young boy named Grant Gordon who, as befits a young boy, is into superhero comics.  (Although the adult Grant doesn't seem to have lost that interest -- note the modern Superman comic on his bedside table -- despite being an actual superhero himself.)  There are some fun little gags with the Doctor, such as him working out that Superman and Clark Kent are the same person ("Everyone knows they're the same person," Grant scoffs274), or inquiring about Spider-Man:
DOCTOR: Why did they call him Spider-Man?  Don't they like him?
YOUNG GRANT: He was bitten by a radioactive spider, and guess what happened?
DOCTOR: Radiation poisoning, I should think.
YOUNG GRANT: No, he got special powers.
DOCTOR: What, vomiting, hair loss, and death?  Fat lot of use.
This is all ultimately in aid of two things: having Grant call the Doctor "Doctor Mysterio" (thus justifying the title) and having the Doctor give Grant a special crystal that he inadvertently swallows which grants him superpowers (so that there can actually be a superhero in the Doctor Who universe).  It's all setup -- fun setup, but still setup.

No, what Moffat is interested in is looking at how having superpowers would actually affect a person.  As he kept noting in interviews, he was more interested in Clark Kent than in Superman.  It's not a bad move, but there's frequently the feeling lurking in the background that Moffat thinks he's being very clever by doing this, which rather ignores the fact that he's by no means the first person to consider superheroes in this light.  Consequently, moves that look like they're intended to subvert the superhero genre end up looking like they're aping it instead.

The Ghost in Harmony Shoal. ("The Return of Doctor Mysterio") ©BBC
This leads to a rather curious episode.  One of the strengths of Doctor Who is that it can essentially be any genre, but placing the Doctor in those genres tends to subvert them, to send them off into new and interesting directions.  But since Moffat thinks he's already subverting the genre, he sends the Doctor off to deal with the other side of the plot, leaving the adult Grant to balance his life as both the Ghost and as a nanny for the baby of the girl he's crushing hard on, reporter Lucy Fletcher.  And so what follows basically just is a superhero movie (albeit a condensed one).  We get Grant switching rapidly back and forth between his two roles, trying very hard not to let Lucy figure out that he's the Ghost while rescuing people from fires and such.  He even manages to get pulled into a rooftop interview/date with Lucy (yes, just like the movie Superman) that goes more or less the way you'd expect.  None of this should be construed as being tough criticisms, mind; Justin Chatwin has an easy charm as Grant and does a reasonable job of being the tough guy as the Ghost, and Charity Wakefield does a good job as Lucy, providing the foil to both Grant and the Ghost (and watching her interactions with each, and the differences between the two, is nicely played).  And crucially, there definitely is chemistry between Chatwin and Wakefield that really helps sell the storyline.  It's certainly an enjoyable superhero tale -- it's just not a groundbreaking one.

The Doctor instead is far more concerned with the goings-on at Harmony Shoal.  That name might have rung a bell with some people, as in the previous episode it was the Shoal of the Winter Harmony who were buying the diamond from River Song -- and if it didn't ring a bell, then people peeling their heads open to reveal blue insides should have.  In some ways this plotline resembles another comic book, the seminal Watchmen, with Harmony Shoal planning on faking an alien attack on New York City -- although instead of averting a nuclear war, Harmony Shoal want all the world leaders to take refuge in their buildings and then convert them into vehicles for their brain hosts to use, thus controlling the world.  And Harmony Shoal want to use the Ghost as one of those vehicles (thereby tying the two plots together).  Oh, and look!  Nardole is back!  It seems the Doctor cut him out of the Hydroflax robot body and reassembled him, because, in the wake of River's death (or at least the last time the Doctor saw her), "you were worried you'd be lonely."  Matt Lucas and Peter Capaldi have a fun and easy relationship here, with Nardole being both comic relief and the Doctor's conscience, to a degree.  It works really well.

So this isn't perhaps the deepest episode ever, but it does take a stab at providing a look at the human side behind the superhero, and at that it's largely successful.  You could, after all, imagine a version of this where the Doctor and the Ghost team up to stop Harmony Shoal, with the focus on the superpowers side of things, and that just wouldn't have been as interesting.  I can see how people who are sick of superheroes would find this more of the same, but as long as you're not one of those people you should find plenty to enjoy here.  It's not the most original story ever, but it is well told and acted, and there's the confidence that's typical of the current Doctor Who production team on display to help power through any of the weaker moments (such as the weird bit with Mr. Huffle the squeeze toy).  This in fact may be the smoothest and most confident of certainly the Moffat era Christmas specials, and possibly even of all the Christmas specials.  "The Return of Doctor Mysterio" might be a tad familiar, but it's undeniably fun.

August 8: "The Pilot"

Some big news happened between Christmas 2016 and April 2017.  We lost a Doctor, as Sir John Hurt passed away at the age of 77, and Peter Capaldi announced a few days after that (on 30 January, to be precise) that series 10 of Doctor Who would be his last.  In other words, the twelfth Doctor is now on borrowed time.

Series 10 Parts 1 & 2 (UK edition)
It's also Steven Moffat's final series as showrunner, but he decided that rather than make things seem like they were ending that he was going to act like it was a brand-new beginning, with new companions (including an overt and admirable attempt to address the issue of diversity in the show by making sure they cast a black actress) and an effort to keep things fresh.  Which is partly why he's cheekily chosen to call this episode "The Pilot".  But it's clear from the outset that they intend for this to be a good jumping-on point for any new or casual fans.  This episode is squarely from new companion Bill Potts' point-of-view.  Which isn't to say there aren't little references and in-jokes here and there (pictures of both River and Susan, a pencil holder full of sonic screwdrivers), but they're not the main point.  The point is Bill.  And from the outset, Pearl Mackie knocks it out of the park, from her rambling non-answer to the Doctor's question ("I was hoping something would develop") to the casually awkward-yet-comfortable way she holds herself as she responds to the Doctor's questions.  Bill is a bit quirky and a whole lot of fun, and the episode does a good job of easing her into things, with it initially being simply a student-teacher tutoring relationship between her and the Doctor (for actually quite a very long time, based on the amount of time that passes during this episode) before circumstances require a bit more.

And that slow development is something to admire here.  They haven't really attempted an introduction like this since "Rose" -- even "The Eleventh Hour", Moffat's own soft relaunch, focused on the Doctor over the companion.  But this decision puts Bill front and center and gives us a better understanding of her character, being tutored by the Doctor (mainly in physics, based on the papers we see), dealing with her foster mom Moira (Jennifer Hennessy, who was in "Gridlock"), and being interested in a particular girl named Heather, who has a defect in the iris of her eye that makes it looks like a star (hence the working title for this episode, "A Star in Her Eye").  The first time around, I did wonder if that was going to be significant, if it was going to turn out she was an alien or something, but no, just a girl with an unusual eye.  She does discover the weird alien mimicking puddle and ends up getting pulled into it though, so she's inadvertently the catalyst for this episode's events.

It's also worth noting how relaxed the Doctor is here.  Peter Capaldi's come a long way from the cold and distant Doctor of "Deep Breath" and "Into the Dalek", and his natural chemistry with both Bill and Nardole is really lovely.  He's in one place for a while, guarding some mysterious vault (more on that in future episodes), but he doesn't necessarily seem frustrated and incredibly bored by it, the way (say) the eleventh Doctor would have been.  Indeed, if what Bill says about his having been there for fifty years is true, he seems to have settled in remarkably well.  But the point is that that slightly eccentric professorial thing seems perfectly natural for Capaldi's Doctor at this stage in his life.  It works well for the character.

Bill and Nardole step out onto an alien world. ("The Pilot")
The other cool thing this episode does is, yes, start with a slower build, but the ramp up to the second half of the episode also feels natural, rather than sudden or jerking.  We get one of the greatest TARDIS reveals ever, with the interior in darkness and the Doctor and Bill at the door, and then that pan into the room as the lights start to come on -- it's just so gorgeous.  And Bill's slow reaction as she starts to put the pieces together, along with the sly dig at the TARDIS anagram, is fantastic.  And then we're off to the races, as the TARDIS heads to a different part of the university, and then a different part of the planet (Australia, for I believe the second time ever (after 1967's The Enemy of the World)), and then an alien planet in the future, and then a different alien planet in the past -- in the middle of the Dalek/Movellan War (from Destiny of the Daleks), in fact!  (And they haven't changed the design of the Movellans at all, which is great.275).  The narrative turns into a chase (much like, er, The Chase), allowing us to get a bunch of different locales and for Bill to get all the "oh my, it's a different planet/time" stuff out of the way more or less immediately.  It makes for an exciting viewing experience without necessarily plodding down the same familiar paths.  (Oh, and yes, a little bit of "Friend from the Future", the Bill intro scene, is used here.)

And the final nice thing is that the weird puddle thing taking Heather's form (or is it Heather herself?) isn't pursuing Bill because of evil designs or anything, but because Heather made a promise to Bill before she was sucked into the puddle that she wouldn't go away.  "What, in the end, are any of us looking for?" the Doctor muses.  "We're looking for someone who's looking for us."  It's nice to have a monster that's not actually monstrous, and while Bill lets her go, she admits afterwards that she refused because she was too scared, but you get the sense she was still a bit tempted by the prospect of travelling the universe with her.  And while the Doctor initially tries to wipe Bill's memory, Bill refuses to let him.  "Just imagine how it would feel if someone did this to you," she says, and we get Clara's theme on the soundtrack, reminding us that that's exactly what happened to the Doctor at the end of last series.  It's a nice, understated touch.

So "The Pilot" is a story that's both bold and understated, and it's a smashing season opener.  If you could level any criticisms at it, the main one is that it's not the deepest or most nuanced story.  But that's OK; sometimes a breezy, fun episode is just what you want.  And Pearl Mackie is a sheer joy as Bill, full of energy and fun without being annoying or frustrating, while Matt Lucas is so much fun as Nardole, basically providing the comic relief but without him being annoying either.  And with Peter Capaldi anchoring them both, the TARDIS team is in excellent shape.  It might not end up being regarded as an all-time classic, but it's difficult to imagine how "The Pilot" could be any better.

August 9: "Smile"

Promo pic for "Smile" (from BBC One - Doctor Who, Series 10, Smile)
"Smile" sees the return of writer Frank Cottrell-Boyce, who was last responsible for series 8's rather underwhelming "In the Forest of the Night".  I'm happy to report that "Smile" is definitely better than that, although it's not a perfect episode.

For one thing, there's an actual proper threat here, rather than the abstract solar flare one we got in "In the Forest of the Night".  The opening of the story establishes that there are killer robots all over this colony world being set up, as one of the colonists tries to convince another to remain happy or else the flying robot swarms will kill them.  (And yes, it's The Sarah Jane Adventures' own Mina Anwar as one of the colonists -- maybe this means that Rani's descendants survive into the future...)  This is the environment that the Doctor takes Bill to on her first proper TARDIS trip.

The best part of the episode is the first half, with just Bill and the Doctor wandering around the empty city (filmed on location in Valencia, Spain, at the City of Arts and Sciences -- and it looks gorgeous), talking to each other.  If you weren't sure about Pearl Mackie last episode (which I suppose is a remote possibility), then this one cements her as absolutely delightful, as she spends her time being frightened by the killer robots but also delighted by all the futuristic things around her.  Mackie walks the line between the two perfectly, and so Bill's conversations with the Doctor about his two hearts and his Scottish accent, smelling rosemary twenty light years away from Earth, and pointing out that the Doctor is the help line are pitch perfect.  In some ways it's a shame that the actual storyline has to interfere and start introducing additional characters.

The Doctor and Bill sidle past the Emojibots. ("Smile") ©BBC
Not convinced by the idea of the Emojibots, though.  It's admittedly a cute idea, but it seems like the sort of thing that will age rather badly in ten years or so, reduced to cultural debris alongside such things as the misguided Emoji Movie.  Which is a problem not because they shouldn't be making episodes that aren't current (because they should be), but because it's really hard to believe that a human culture in the distant future would still know and care about emojis.  Maybe I'm wrong -- feel free to throw this in my face in 2027 -- but I suspect I'm not.  But emojis aside, making the robots look a bit sad and dumpy (much like Marvin the Paranoid Android in the movie version of Hitchhiker's) but also a threatening presence is the sort of bizarre disconnect that Doctor Who lives for, and on that level they work quite well.

But like I said, the episode sags a bit once it has to introduce the rest of the plot.  I'm not sure if it's because the concept is so abstract or because they just don't pull it off, but the idea of grief-as-plague doesn't really land.  It's certainly a hard idea to get across, and the explanation they give isn't as clear as it should be.  When they see that people are unhappy, the reaction of the Vardy isn't to do things until they're happy again but to kill the unhappy people?  We're supposed to think this Happiness Patrol-esque result is a consequence of poor programming (so kind of like the nanobots in "The Empty Child"/"The Doctor Dances"), but it seems like a really weird logical jump to me.  And of course it doesn't help that the first adult awake seems to be a bit of a pig-headed fool, immediately jumping to get the guns to use against a cloud of tiny robots that their entire city is made from.  There's dumb and then there's that guy.  (Also, pro tip: maybe don't your name your colony ship Erehwon, after a Samuel Butler story about a happy colony that is revealed to be not as idyllic as it first appears?  That's just tempting fate right there.)

So yeah, the ending bit is something of a letdown (although it's only annoying rather than terrible), but the first half, with the Doctor and Bill exploring and poking around, more than makes up for it, and the goodwill that engenders is enough to carry it through the weaker second half.  I'm glad we got such a great showcase for the two of them, and I would happily watch loads more of the Doctor and Bill hanging out together.  They, more than anything else, make "Smile" work.

August 10: "Thin Ice"

Three episodes in and I haven't even mentioned the slightly different font style for the episode titles that they've been using.  No, it does matter, come back!

Nah, it doesn't actually matter.  Just an observation.

Anyway, "Thin Ice" is by Sarah Dollard, who wrote last series's excellent "Face the Raven" and is back with this outstanding story.  It's not an adaptation of the unmade McCoy-era Ice Warrior story, though (sorry, Big Finish fans), but instead this time around we're back to the time of the last frost fair in London, in 1814.  This is when the Thames used to freeze over and people would hang out on the frozen river and have parties and fun.  And yes, they really did have an elephant out on the ice.  In some ways, despite only being 200 years ago, the idea of the Thames freezing over seems really alien -- Bill even comments on it, wondering if the TARDIS has landed in a parallel dimension.

And once again the Doctor and Bill steal the show, thanks to both their easy relationship and some sparkling dialogue.
BILL: Traveling to the past, there's got to be rules.  If I step on a butterfly, it could send ripples through time that mean I'm not even born in the first place and I could just disappear.
DOCTOR: Definitely.  I mean, that's what happened to Pete.
BILL: Pete?
DOCTOR: Your friend, Pete.  He was standing there a moment ago, but he stepped on a butterfly and now you don't even remember him.
BILL: Shut up!  I'm being serious!
DOCTOR: Yeah, so was Pete.
The Doctor slugs Lord Sutcliffe. ("Thin Ice") ©BBC
Seriously, Bill and the Doctor's interactions are so good, and they're so relaxed together, that I wouldn't be surprised if these two end up being considered one of the best Doctor-companion pairings ever.  And here they get to say Dollard's dialogue, which is full of sharp, insightful moments ("Regency England," Bill comments.  "Bit more black than they show in the movies."  "So was Jesus," the Doctor replies.  "History's a whitewash") and quieter, more significant ones.  The scene between the Doctor and Bill, where she asks him if he's ever killed anyone, is well done because you understand both sides, and crucially, both of them choose to underplay it.  We could have gotten Pearl Mackie shouting and raging at the Doctor, but she plays this much quieter, and consequently it's a lot more impactful.  It's also good how the script has her move on, so that we don't have to deal with a lot of outrage, as with Clara and the moon situation in "Kill the Moon" -- Bill focuses on the task at hand, which is good.  And then a later scene, where the Doctor tells Bill to let him do the talking because it's best not to get emotional, before slugging Lord Sutcliffe for being racist to Bill, is fabulous not just because it's great to see the Doctor punching racists in the face (although that's definitely part of it) but because it reveals to Bill the sort of man the Doctor is: it's not that he doesn't have time for outrage, as he claims, but rather that he doesn't have time for anything else.   And of course, that gorgeous speech that sums up the Doctor's philosophy: "Human progress isn't measured by industry, it's measured by the value you place on a life.  An unimportant life.  A life without privilege.  The boy who died on the river, that boy's value is your value.  That's what defines an age.  That's what defines a species."

The actual storyline of the episode is a good one: there's a creature living in the Thames that's eating people, except that someone has actually chained it down there.  That someone, it turns out, is one Lord Sutcliffe, who is harvesting the creature's waste as a fuel source which burns a thousand times longer than coal and hotter than they can measure.  We find this out slowly, as the story satisfyingly unpeels thanks to the Doctor and Bill's investigations.  And the villain isn't an alien or anyone deserving of any sympathy, but simply the racist, unfeeling Lord Sutcliffe, who doesn't care who dies (in fact, he encourages it) so long as the creature is kept fed so that it can keep producing fuel.  (Quick aside to note Bill's cheeky almost-swear: "No sh-" *immediate scene change*.)  This leads to another parallel to "Kill the Moon": as in that one, the Doctor declares that the choice of how to deal with the creature, to set it free or to leave it be, is not his to make, but rather Bill's, as a representative of humanity.  But unlike in "Kill the Moon", he doesn't leave Bill alone to make the choice but rather helps her after she decides to set the creature free.  It's a suitably action-packed finale to a story that's been both thoughtful and exciting.

I feel like I've doing a lot of raving about this story, but that's because "Thin Ice" deserves it.  This is a script with dialogue that sparkles and a storyline that unfolds at just the right pace, and everyone in this, on both sides of the camera, do their very best to make this work, and they definitely succeed.  This is easily one of the best stories (if not the best) of series 10, and possibly of Capaldi's whole run.

August 11: "Knock Knock"

Promo pic for "Knock Knock" (from BBC One - Doctor Who, Series 10,
Knock Knock) ©BBC
A large, old house, a group of students, a creepy landlord... what could possibly go wrong?

"Knock Knock" is the debut Doctor Who script from noted playwright Mike Bartlett, and it explicitly wants to be a haunted house horror(ish) story.  And so we get many of the clichés present and correct, including a group of young people who can be picked off one by one and a weird old guy (played wonderfully by David Suchet) who knows more than he's letting on.  And, like Doctor Who does, "Knock Knock" puts the Doctor inside the cliché and consequently distorts the story, sending it in a new direction.  That's probably why the story ends the way it does, an example more of "misguided" than "evil" at the heart.

But before we get to that point, the story does need to go through the motions, which is why we get the setup of six young, attractive people, with some romantic possibilities (such as Paul being into Bill (who obviously isn't interested, being into girls and all), while Shireen is into Paul) and a sense of people being happy and having fun -- which obviously won't go well when a haunted, sort of alive house is involved.  (Although while we're here, it's a bit weird how everyone seems to know who the Doctor is, yet Bill has to spend time explaining who he is.276 [Edit: It's because he lectures at their school; it's embarrassing how long it took me to work that out.])  The story doesn't really demand much from the housemates other than to be cheery and then afraid, but to their credit everyone here does really well, even when they don't have a lot to really do -- so, for instance, Felicity is claustrophobic (rather like Charlie from Class) and sells it quite well, even while she demonstrates that it's not any safer outside the house than inside.  But the star of the show is David Suchet, who brings a quiet, matter-of-fact manner to a rather creepy character, which makes him even more creepy as a result.  It's one thing to have a character cackle that you're going to die, and quite another to have a character calmly and cheerfully state it.  I only really know David Suchet as Poirot, and seeing him play such a different character was a bit of a revelation.  The Landlord is quiet, a bit oily, and very self-satisfied, and he's a delight to watch, even as you're rooting against him.  I also really like the way his character almost never tries to hide what's going on, such as when Bill and Shireen find Pavel trapped in the wall.  "Music can be pleasant, but a simple repetition like that [record currently skipping], it's merely a distraction from the inevitable," he comments.  "Hope is its own form of cruelty. ... Oh, look.  He's released.  Mercy at last.  Beautiful, isn't it?  Nature contained.  He's preserved in the walls, in the very fabric of the building forever."  Suchet is so matter-of-fact and pleased as he says this that it's really rather wonderful.

Pavel is trapped in the wall. ("Knock Knock") ©BBC
But here's the thing.  The way the story picks the housemates off one by one is well done.  The discovery that this has been happening for years and years is skillfully done.  The living house thing works well, and the woodlice/Dryad bugs are really creepy -- the initial shot of them pouring out of the doorframe in the kitchen as the Doctor and Harry watch is effectively gross, and the way they can just show up out of nowhere is also suitably unpleasant.  The effects in general, in fact, are really good -- seeing Pavel swallowed up by the wall is nicely nasty, and the makeup on Eliza, as she's essentially made of wood, is top-notch.  This should work.  And yet I just didn't find it that engaging.  Maybe it's because I'm not really into horror movies, so I'm not really the target audience?  I dunno; on paper this sounds great, but while it seems like all the individual parts are good, the sum is somehow less.

Is it the ending?  There is a sense, a little bit, that the story is pulling its punches by having the Landlord not be evil but just trying to desperately keep his mother alive, to the exclusion of all else.  They're doing it for a reason, of course -- this is part of the subversion that the Doctor's presence has on events, after all -- but it does come at the cost of not being quite as visceral.  And that feeling is only compounded by the semi-happy ending, with all six housemates being "restored" by Eliza as she ends things -- nice, yeah, but it does neuter the horror rather.  But is that enough to retroactively lessen the impact of everything up to that point?  It doesn't seem like it should, but maybe.

So in the end it's a bit difficult to judge.  Maybe if I were a bigger fan of the genre this would work better for me (so obviously your mileage may vary), but as is, while it's easy enough to admire the care and skill that's gone into everything here, it just doesn't quite do it for me.  Its heart and its brain are both there, but it's like they don't quite click together.  "Knock Knock" is entertaining enough, but it's not as outstanding as it seems like it should be.

August 12: "Oxygen"

Promo pic for "Oxygen" (from BBC One - Doctor Who, Series 10,
Oxygen) ©BBC
It opens, cheekily, by lifting from the famous opening from Star Trek: "Space, the final frontier..."  Except instead of continuing with a stirring, optimistic speech, here the Doctor uses the phrase to illustrate just how deadly space is.  It's a fun little subversion.

"Oxygen" is by Jamie Mathieson, who, after a bit of an uneven entry last series ("The Girl Who Died"), is back on form, with a tense, thrilling affair that's right up there with his series 8 episodes ("Mummy on the Orient Express" and "Flatline").  We get some stuff early on regarding the Vault... oh right!  The Vault!  I haven't even mentioned the Vault yet.  It's the reason the Doctor is staying at the university and lecturing, because it's a safe place to guard this mysterious Vault that Nardole keeps reminding him about.  In some ways the Vault is the overarching plot this series, but as pretty much everyone correctly guessed who was in the Vault, they wisely don't milk it till the end -- in fact, we'll find out who's in it next time around.  But yeah, the Vault comes up basically so that Nardole can chastise the Doctor about it and the Doctor can ignore him, but in a way such that Nardole gets to come along on the adventure this time around, instead of remaining behind like he's done in the last three episodes.

One of the neat things about "Oxygen" is how it takes an argument of free, unfettered capitalism and extends it to a logical conclusion: in space, oxygen is a resource just like any other, and corporations charge money for resources, so therefore corporations would charge its employees for oxygen.  So the number of breaths you have left becomes the measurement for everything, and it creates a tension of a constantly ticking clock in the background that the audience is aware of on some level, even if it's not being brought up all the time.  Then there's the reference to the idea that the Doctor and company are from the union, which the others believe to be a myth.  And of course, there's the fact that the life-preserving spacesuits that everyone is required to wear are programmed to start killing all the employees because it would be cheaper to just bring in a brand-new crew than to either fire this crew (and thus have to transport them back from the mining station) or train them to be more efficient or something, which also reads as a critique of capitalism and the focus solely on the bottom line.  (One is reminded of the infamous memo related to the Ford Pinto, where Ford calculated that it was cheaper to just deal with the cost to society of accidents and deaths than to alter every vehicle to be in accordance with higher safety standards.)  But the cool thing about this critique is that it's there in the background, motivating the plot, but Mathieson isn't beating us over the head with it, shouting "Look how terrible capitalism is!" or anything.  It's just a logical extrapolation, like all good allegorical SF.

Bill's suit malfunctions. ("Oxygen") ©BBC
The cast, of course, is great; Pearl Mackie still excels as Bill, while Matt Lucas gets to slip back into the comic relief role that he had in "The Pilot".  It's a relationship that works really well, and seeing the two of them with the Doctor continues to be a real joy.  (In particular, the bit at the end where Bill hugs the Doctor, and then Nardole hugs them both to be part of the moment, made me laugh out loud.)  There's also the way Bill reacts to being confronted with an alien with bright blue skin, which leads to her being called a racist, which is handled with a nicely light touch.  And it's good that they have these light moments, because the rest of the story is properly scary, with basically zombies trying to kill off the remaining crew.  As I said earlier, the tension doesn't really let up, and the atmosphere (sorry) of the episode is therefore very effective -- certainly, for my money at least, much more effective than last week's episode.  The moment where it looks like Bill might die from vacuum exposure is excellent, and the way that the solution has repercussions for the Doctor, blinding him, is clever.  It makes the Doctor have to rely even more on his wits, now that the TARDIS, his sonic, and even his sight are unavailable to him.  Really, the only thing that doesn't quite work is the idea that Bill is only knocked out by the electrical charge, not killed, and that's probably more an issue with the direction and makeup making her look dead than with the idea itself.

So "Oxygen" is a compelling, scary episode that provides a nice set of thrills, but with a point about capitalism lurking in the background, adding another layer to consider and appreciate.  In fact, it's worth taking a moment to ponder just how good this run of episodes has been so far.  It hasn't been a perfect success, of course, but even the weaker episodes have plenty of moments to make them at least somewhat worth your while.  It's a sign of just how confident and experienced the production team has become: this is a team that knows what works and what doesn't, but critically, this doesn't mean that they've gotten complacent.  Doctor Who is still pushing itself, coming up with new ways to thrill and entertain viewers, all while making it look natural.  Some of this is their excellent casting, of course (seriously, you should just accept that I'm going to be raving about Pearl Mackie for the rest of series 10), but some of it is the way they're still taking risks.  Like that cliffhanger at the end, making the Doctor still be blind.  A less adventurous production team would have made the Doctor better at the end of the episode, and in fact we the audience assume that that's what will happen -- but making his choices have long-term repercussions, even if those choices were the correct ones in that moment, is the sign of a show still pushing itself.   Doctor Who isn't resting on its laurels by any means, and having the Doctor's blindness persist makes you want to know what will happen next.  What more could you want?

August 13: "Extremis"

Interesting; the recap at the start of this episode uses a slightly less hysterical line reading from the Doctor ("I can't look at anything ever again") than at the end of "Oxygen", as if they know that now it's not a cliffhanger any more they can dial it down a bit.  In some ways it's a lot like the classic Who days of providing slightly different reenactments of cliffhangers.

The last couple of series, Steven Moffat has been taking an episode and using it to push the format of the show.  In series 8 it was "Listen" (a bit), last series it was "Heaven Sent" (a lot), and this time it's "Extremis".  The clues are there at the beginning, of course, with the Doctor getting an email called "Extremis", but we don't really remember that as the story progresses.  No, this time around Moffat is going full-blown Dan Brown conspiracy theory thriller, with forbidden texts in the Vatican and suicidal CERN physicists.  (And remember, The Da Vinci Code borrows a lot from The Holy Blood and the Holy Grail, the book that claimed Jesus and Mary Magdalene married and had kids who ended up as part of the Merovingian dynasty and which was co-written by Henry Lincoln, who also co-wrote three Troughton stories -- thus bringing the Doctor Who connection around full circle.) Consequently we get lots of clandestine meetings with high-ranking Vatican officials, including the Pope himself (albeit not the real current Pope, Francis, probably because a) it's not great to involve the real Pope in this story, and b) Francis isn't Italian, and they clearly want that European Da Vinci Code vibe) and rumors of a text, the "Veritas", that is so dangerous that everyone who's translated or read it has subsequently committed suicide.  (An idea which unintentionally mirrors Monty Python's "Killer Joke" sketch.)

The Doctor seemingly executes Missy. ("Extremis") ©BBC
Interspersed with the Veritas storyline is the Doctor remembering an encounter with Missy, who'd been captured and was going to be put to death.  It's...actually not quite clear why he's remembering this now.  Certainly the thing River Song said about him that Nardole reads to him ("'Goodness is not goodness that seeks advantage.  Good is good in the final hour, in the deepest pit without hope, without witness, without reward.  Virtue is only virtue in extremis'") keeps coming to mind, so maybe that's why, but it does feel on some level like Moffat just wanted to get the fact that Missy is the one in the Vault out there now so he didn't have to worry about teasing the viewers the rest of the season -- and, of course, so that he can use Missy later in this three-part story, and it makes more sense to introduce her here than in the next episode.  But it's an interesting storyline, and it makes clear just why Missy is in the Vault (because of that "without witness" stuff), and why Nardole is still around too (because River sent him after the Doctor).  It just doesn't quite gel with the surrounding storyline.

But that's OK.  This is an episode that nevertheless succeeds because it commits to its premise. We get a secret library of heretical books under the Vatican, created by Pope Benedict IX, who was apparently a woman.  (Interesting that Moffat chose a pope considered to be one of the all-time worst to retcon as female.)  There's some creepy decaying monks walking around threatening people, and portals that lead to places all over the world.  Even when things get a bit weird, they still do a great job of having everything slowly unfold, so that by the end, when the Doctor is confronting the Monks in the Oval Office, next to the body of the American president (who isn't orange, interestingly enough -- see next episode for why this matters), it's still a logical progression.  But the best thing is that the only really logical way to end the story Moffat is telling to basically have the Doctor and his friends lose, and so that's what happens.  There's no deus ex machina here, no Missy swooping in at the last minute (say) to fix things.  Instead we learn this world is a simulation, for the Monks to work out their best plan of invasion, but this doesn't feel like a cheat because the whole episode has been building to that moment.  The Veritas and the Shadow Test wouldn't work in the real world, but because they're in a computer simulation it does.277  And the way the characters also discover this -- Nardole by moving outside the limits of the projectors, Bill by being told the truth, the Doctor by reading the Veritas -- is also well done, with no punches pulled.  And finally, because the episode straight up told us about this Extremis email, there's no sense of letdown that, in some ways, it was all a dream, because we knew that going in, even if we didn't necessarily realize it.

It's the first part of a three-part story, so "Extremis" doesn't wrap things up all nice and neat.  But what it does do is mess with our heads, just a bit, but in a way that feels satisfying.  This is an episode that fully commits to its premise, with hardly a foot misplaced.  This is another success in a series filled with successes, but it does leave you wondering: how can the next two parts of this story match this?  I guess we'll have to watch and see...

August 14: "The Pyramid at the End of the World"

Promo pic for "The Pyramid at the End of the World" (from BBC One -
Doctor Who, Series 10, The Pyramid at the End of the World) ©BBC
Interesting that they brought back the blue berets, now that this is ostensibly the actual UN and not UNIT...

Last time around we got a fresh, interesting take on a conspiracy thriller, which got to actually pull the trigger on killing people because it was actually a computer simulation.  This time around, we get the people who set up that computer simulation, arriving in a giant pyramid for some reason (effect, I guess) and telling humanity that they're doomed unless they let the Monks rule over them.  Their simulations pointed to this moment, and it's up to the Doctor to work out why and then stop it.

This episode is co-written by Peter Harness, who wrote last series' Zygon two-parter, which is probably why this episode has a similar feel.  There's a sense of international danger presented that's rather nice, although it does require the Doctor being President of Earth again.  I dunno; the first time it was a fun gag, the second time it was like, "Yeah, OK", and this time around it's starting to get tiresome.  That might be because now that it keeps showing up we have to actually consider what it means, rather than just letting it be a throwaway joke.  Is it really likely that Earth would readily give up sovereignty to an alien?  Or even to a single person?  This is one of those things that seems less and less likely the more you look at it.  (That said, I'm fully in favor of them bringing this back next series, now that we know the thirteenth Doctor will be female.)

The Monks activate their plane-catching beam. ("The Pyramid at the End
of the World") ©BBC
And speaking of weird things...  What exactly is the Monks' goal here?  We get told that they can't just invade the planet, but they have to be invited in.  This is presumably because it would be a real drag, having to deal with the population resisting them, and it would be way easier to be asked nicely to take over the planet, even though they've clearly got a lot of power and can bring down planes and subs without damaging either the vehicles or the crew.  (Maybe they only have enough power for one show of strength like this.)  This plan involves frightening the hell out of the populace, by the way, with sending everyone a Doomsday Clock notification telling them they're at 3 minutes to midnight278, but then informing the representatives of humanity that consent must be given but not out of fear.  So maybe not your best plan, guys.  (Also, so long as one person consents out of love, that takes care of everyone else who maybe wouldn't have agreed with that decision (such as the Doctor)?  How does that work?)  And then when they get the planet, what do they get out of it?  Is there some natural resource they need?  Do they just enjoy bossing people around?  Or do they just like the adulation from convincing the populace it loves them?  (These questions don't really get answered here or in the follow-up next time, in case you were wondering.)

So that's what doesn't work.  What does work are the smaller moments.  Watching Bill's date with Penny go awry a second time, this time due to the appearance of the UN Secretary General instead of the Pope, is still fun, and both actresses sell it really well.  (Ooh, and a quick dig at the US President's Cheeto-like complexion.)  Nardole also gets some fun moments ("Course I can [hack the systems], I'm not just sexy"), and the way he keeps helping the Doctor with his blindness is nicely done as well.  But this episode is primarily the Doctor's, and Capaldi does a great job with it, standing up to the Monks, working out what the problem threatening humanity is and how to track it down, and his interactions with lab scientist Erika (played wonderfully by Rachel Denning) are lovely to behold.  And the other thing that really does work is the doomsday scenario they've concocted, with a killer bacteria being unwittingly unleashed (almost) upon the world through a series of small accidents that compound into one big one.  (This is reminiscent of the genetic alteration of plant bacteria Klebsiella planticola, which was modified to produce alcohol when it broke down crop residue but when introduced into non-sterile soil would have (possibly) killed all plant life due to alcohol poisoning -- and note that the strain used here has a similar name.)  This is played as a simple mistake with horrific consequences for the entire world as it aggressively breaks down organic matter (with Capaldi's one-time Thick of It co-star Tony Gardner being the first victim, as Erika's lab partner Douglas), with the possibility of it being vented into the larger world.  The way the Doctor finds out which lab is having the problem is also clever.  (The geography of the lab and what portions are safe from the bacteria and the Doctor's sterilizing explosion and which are affected is occasionally confusing though.  And so if the Monks had never shown up then the world would have definitely been doomed then, yeah?  So maybe it's a good thing they showed up when they did...)

So in general this is a pretty average episode, with some logical problems but a number of good moments to counterbalance.  But the ending is fantastic, by making it hinge on the Doctor's hubris.  He can't quite bring himself to tell Bill (or anyone besides Nardole, in fact) that he's blind, and while the sonic sunglasses help him with larger shapes they can't help him with images or painted details.  And so he's defeated the Monks and saved the planet from mass extinction, but because he hasn't told anyone (like, say, Erika) that he's blind, he can't open the combination lock to get out of the affected areas.  And so rather than have him die, Bill consents to let the Monks rule Earth, so long as the Doctor gets his sight back and can escape the explosion.  It makes the Doctor pay for his pride in a very significant way, refusing to let him off the hook, and it's incredible to watch it happen, to know what Bill is going to do.  This is one of those quintessential "defeat snatched from the jaws of victory" moments, and is easily the most memorable part of the episode.  That alone helps tip the balance for this episode to the "favorable" side.  "You'd better get my planet back!" Bill tells the Doctor, but we'll have to wait until the conclusion to see what happens.  The "next time" trailer certainly suggests that that might be a problem, what with the Doctor now working for the Monks and all...

August 15: "The Lie of the Land"

The Monks are in control, having convinced the population of the planet that they've always been there (because "however bad a situation is, if people think that's how it's always been, they'll put up with it," as Nardole points out), and the Doctor is apparently their figurehead, broadcasting to the world how good the Monks are (despite the fact that they have Memory Police who arrest and kill people who remember that the Monks have only been around six months or who own comic books (i.e., proof the Monks weren't always here)).  Bill is one of the people who remembers the old days, although she has to fight every day to keep it that way (mainly by talking to an imaginary version of her mother), and once Nardole gives her the chance to rescue the Doctor she takes it.

The third part of this story is by Toby Whithouse, who's usually a fairly solid writer.  So that's why it's a bit disappointing to find that "The Lie of the Land" is rather unfortunately mediocre.  I'm wondering if that's because he's essentially been brought in to wrap up this three-parter (and it really does feel like a three-parter, despite what the production team said), rather than conceiving of a complete story from scratch.

Honestly, the production team on this show continues to be so good at what they do that even lesser efforts like this can still boast of solid production values and interesting direction.  (The way the Monks' reality keeps threatening to break through the characters' resolve, with the symbol and the word TRUTH flashing up every so often, is a particularly nice touch.  And there's that homage to the McGann movie, with the Master's eyes superimposed over another image.)  So it definitely helps that the whole thing looks great.  It's just a bit of a shame that the storyline is so standard-issue.  Having rebels break into a secret base to locate a figurehead just isn't that exciting, and while they do a good job with it, it suffers from that feeling of familiarity.

The best part of the episode, though, is Bill's confrontation with the Doctor.  Her growing disillusionment is pitched perfectly, and Capaldi makes us initially believe that he really does want to help the Monks -- no knowing winks or sly smiles or anything that might give the game away.  "What about free will?" Bill demands.  "Yes, well, I mean, you had free will, and look at what you did with it," the Doctor replies.  "Worse than that, you had history.  History was saying to you, look, I've got some examples of fascism here for you to look at.  No?  Fundamentalism?  No?  Oh, okay, you carry on.  I had to stop you, or at least not stand in the way of someone else who wanted to, because the guns were getting bigger, the stakes were getting higher, and any minute now it was going to be goodnight, Vienna. ... All I can say is that we are lucky it was a benevolent race like the Monks, not the Daleks.  Yes, I know the Monks are ruthless.  I get that.  Yes, they play with history and I'm not exactly thrilled about that.  But they bring peace and order."  Capaldi makes it seem like he agrees with the Monks, like he's tired of having to save humanity from itself, in such a way that even we the audience aren't certain if he's really on their side, and if Bill is going to have find a way to stop the Doctor as well as the Monks.  And honestly, that might have made for a far more interesting back half -- perhaps with Bill and Nardole having to go to Missy to get her help to stop the Doctor.

The Doctor seemingly regenerates. ("The Lie of the Land") ©BBC
But that's not what we get.  Instead we're told this was all an elaborate set up to verify that Bill wasn't a Monk plant (complete with the Doctor faking a regeneration, most likely so they could include bits of it in the series trailers (the more cynical side of me says)) and then it's more business as usual, with the freedom fighters infiltrating the Monks' base to shut off their broadcast.  Even the appearance of Missy, telling the Doctor that the easiest way to break the Monks' control would be to kill Bill (since she's the one who invited them in in the first place), doesn't do too much to liven things up.  The best bits are Missy being snarky to the Doctor: "I've had adventures too," she tells the Doctor in one instance, after he asks if she's met the Monks before.  "My whole life doesn't revolve around you, you know."  (And they do explain a couple of the questions I posed last time after all -- though not the "why are they here at all?" one -- so that's a good thing at least.)  But no, most of this is, in many ways, just Who by numbers, right down to the final solution to the Monk problem being love (in this case, Bill's pure love for her mother).  Ho, as they say, hum.

So as I said, the production values are excellent, and that goes a long way in making this palatable.  But as a story, "The Lie of the Land" feels just a bit tired, almost going through the motions rather than trying to push the envelope.  Considering we started this three-parter with "Extremis", it's perhaps inevitable that the wrap-up wouldn't be as exciting as the beginning.  But nevertheless it's unfortunate that a storyline that started so adventurously ended by playing it so safe, but that's how "The Lie of the Land" feels: safe.  And in some regards safe is fine; it's not the worst sin to shoot for that, but it does mean that it's all too easy to feel let down by the result.

August 16: "Empress of Mars"

(Who, working at BBC America, thought it was a good idea to put scenes -- not trailers, actual scenes -- that haven't actually aired in the episode yet as mid-commercial teases?  What on Earth is this even for, other than to potentially spoil the episode for the viewers?)

This opens with a frankly pointless scene at NASA (and that shot of the building is very cheap-looking) to establish that there were humans on Mars in 1881 -- rather than just having the TARDIS show up on Mars in 1881.  This leads to a story involving British troops on Mars, dealing with Ice Warriors who've been hibernating.  In theory this should be a bit daft but also exciting, the sort of juxtaposition that Doctor Who is fond of doing.  But it just never really gels.

Iraxxa in front of her hibernation device. ("Empress of Mars") ©BBC
Part of the problem is that it's a pretty shallow script that Mark Gatiss has given us.  On its surface level, "Empress of Mars" is admittedly a lot of fun.  We get Ice Warriors actually on Mars, for the first time ever on TV, and we get an entertaining clash with Victorian troops, with Victorian ideals (although, somewhat surprisingly, we also get a black soldier -- something even Gatiss commented on, although it seems there were a couple).  The new way the Ice Warriors kill people, by basically crushing them into small, twisted balls, is suitably horrific.  There's a noble leader in Godsacre and a slimy one in Catchlove, and since this is the Ice Warriors we're dealing with, the script takes some pains to establish that even though they're currently killing soldiers, they're not an evil species, not really.  (And they do get provoked by the incredibly stupid Catchlove, so their aggressive response is sort of justified.)  We even get a brand-new Martian design, in the form of the Ice Queen Iraxxa.  (Not sure about the hair-like tendrils though.)  And Alpha Centauri!  And Ysanne Churchman doing its voice again, even! That's a genuinely thrilling moment for any old-school fans.

So the initial, undemanding watch of "Empress of Mars" works, just about.  But that's the only level on which this works; there's no substance behind this story, no themes you can grapple with -- not even straightforward ones like "imperialism is bad", or "jingoistic arrogance only leads to destruction" (which is right there to take up, with Catchlove's comments about up-right crocodiles, but is cheerfully ignored), or even a token effort to compare Victorian and Martian philosophies, which seems like it would have been a pretty easy scene to do.  The closest the story gets is the way Iraxxa spares Godsacre's love, but that's only because of the Martian code of honor, rather than because any characters have experienced any real growth.

Actually, that's another problem with "Empress of Mars".  Gatiss hasn't provided us with characters, but rather with caricatures.  Everyone's defined by a broad stroke or two and nothing more: Catchlove is impulsive, Godascre is a noble coward, Iraxxa is imperious, Jackdaw is your standard conniving selfish soldier, Vincey is a bit scared and misses his girl and home...  None of these characters have any hidden depth to them.  And not even the regulars are spared; they'd mentioned in interviews before the series began that Bill might be more into pop culture than other companions, and so that's pretty much her only defining characteristic here, while the Doctor is just your standard Doctor, rather than anything that marks him out as the twelfth Doctor.  (Although, admirably, Peter Capaldi does a good job of playing against this somewhat; I particularly like the moment where he tosses off the "too quiet" line with a quick little grin, undercutting what could have been a rather groan-inducing line.)  And Nardole gets shunted off into the TARDIS, which is misbehaving for reasons that are never explained, other than that Gatiss doesn't want to deal with a third companion.  (Actually, given that Nardole wasn't initially intended to be a regular, this could just be Gatiss's way of handling suddenly having a third TARDIS person to worry about.)  All this means that it's difficult to really get a grasp on any of the characters beyond those broad strokes, and so it's subsequently hard to care about their fate -- certainly the deaths of some of them don't really elicit any reactions from the audience.

So by the bare minimum standards, this works: it looks gorgeous, it's exciting if undemanding fare, and if you just let it all wash past you the story's all right.  As a pastiche of silly B-movie SF fare with some Mummy archetypes thrown in, this is OK.  But the minute you try to sink your teeth any deeper into "Empress of Mars", the whole thing collapses like spun sugar: pretty to look at, but ultimately unsatisfying.

(And what the hell is going on with the ending?  Why does Missy ask the Doctor if he's all right with such gravity, given that what's he's just experienced is pretty much a walk in the park by his standards?  If she's referring to something deeper (which is probably what we're meant to think) we never find out, as this is never brought up again.  It's heavy foreshadowing for something nonexistent, which is really weird.)

August 17: "The Eaters of Light"

Promo pic for "The Eaters of Light" (from BBC One - Doctor Who, Series
10, The Eaters of Light) ©BBC
Now this is something special: for the first time, a writer from the original run has written a story for the BBC Wales run.  Award-winning writer Rona Munro wrote the very last serial of the original run, Survival, and now she's returned, to give us a tale of Romans and Picts and the Pictish Beast.

The fact that Munro had written for the show in the previous century seemed to have biased some reviewers, with comments about how "retro" this episode felt, but I have to say that I can't really see what they were getting at.  It's not about modern concerns, I suppose, and there's no effort to make the Romans or the Picts seem "just like us" (which is frankly welcome), but it's not like this episode is particularly out of step with the rest of series 10.  I mean, we could make comparisons with Survival if we really wanted to (for instance, both feature gateways between worlds, sort of), but it doesn't really seem necessary -- particularly since Munro has given us such a strong episode.

The inspiration for this story seems to have been a desire to explain both the fate of the Ninth Roman Legion, which was stationed in Britain in the 2nd century but then disappeared from Roman records, and the Pictish Beast, a drawing of a strange-looking animal on various Pictish monuments that no one's quite sure what it's meant to represent (a lot of commentators seem to have overlooked this second inspiration, mind).  And so we're told about a creature from another dimension that's made its way through an "interdimensional temporal rift" and which feeds on sunlight (and people too, by absorbing all the sunlight inside them?  This part's not super clear), and which single-handedly wiped out the Ninth Legion, barring those who ran away.  And it's actually a fun idea to tie these two things together, and it's done in a very Doctor Who manner, with time running at different speeds and an isolated area for the creature to stalk around in.

The beast is restrained and driven toward the gateway. ("The Eaters of
Light") ©BBC
But the best moments are the smaller ones: the idea that crows can talk and just choose not to is the sort of offhand magical idea that Doctor Who does well.  The way the Doctor is completely unawed by the Picts ("Shh!  Did anybody hear that?  Do you know what that sound was? ... That was the sound of my patience shattering into a billion little pieces"), and the way Nardole has completely ingratiated himself into the Pict tribe in two days (complete with face paint) are both lovely and completely in character for them, while Bill's interactions with the remnants of the Romans are really something special.  Pearl Mackie continues to be outstanding, and the way she discusses sexuality with the Romans, the way she works out how she can understand Latin, and her general bravery are all portrayed so well.  Other actresses might struggle with this material and the different skills required, but it's no problem for her.  And these little moments of characterization are particularly noticeable after "Empress of Mars" -- here they feel like natural extensions of the characters we've already seen throughout the series, rather than traits grafted on.  And it's because of a character moment that we get the resolution, as Bill uses her new-found knowledge regarding the TARDIS translation circuits to bring the Romans and the Picts together, to help fight the beast hunting them both.  It's a delight, watching Mackie watch the two groups slowly figure out what's going on, with the Doctor there to spur them into action. "She slaughtered your legion," he tells them.  "You slaughtered everything that she loves.  Now, you all have a choice.  You can carry on slaughtering each other till no one is left standing, or you grow the hell up!  Because there's a new war now.  I think these creatures are light-eating locusts, looking for rents and cracks between worlds to let themselves into dimensions of light.  Once they break through, they eat.  They will eat the sun, and then they will eat the stars.  And they will keep eating until there are no stars left.  So, whose side are you on now?  Because as far as I can see, there's only one side left."

In some respects the ending is obvious.  Time passes differently in the gateway, and while the Doctor decides to fend off the Eaters of Light until the end of time, the Romans and some of the Picts decide to do it instead of him, seeing it as their duty (er, except even with the time flow difference they'll still die out a lot sooner than the Doctor would... the script rather glosses over this).  But because the episode opened with the girl listening for the music, this takes on the air of an inevitability rather than a plot twist everyone saw coming.  And the idea that the crows (which can talk, don't forget) say "caw" because they're remembering Kar, the Pictish gatekeeper who went into the gate with the Romans, is quite lovely too.

In some ways this isn't an overly ambitious story, but it's definitely a confident one, and the way the episode weaves a quiet sense of wonder and magic through everything (no doubt helped by the gorgeous location, sets, and costuming) makes this something special.  Yes, there are a couple logical oddities, but everything else works so well, and nothing hinges on these things, that they're easy to overlook.  It's a really lovely script, with some excellent characterization for everyone on board, and it provides nice Doctor Who-style explanations for old mysteries too.  If this is the quality that Rona Munro can still deliver (she's two for two right now) then I hope she comes back under Chris Chibnall. In short, I rather adore this story.

(Ooh, and that ending with Missy!  Has she changed her ways for real, or is it all a trick?  They've been spending quite a bit of time trying to make it look like she has indeed had a change of heart(s), but with just enough doubt left to make you wonder. But I guess we'll find out soon...)

August 18: "World Enough and Time"

Promo pic for "World Enough and Time" (from BBC One - Doctor Who,
Series 10, World Enough and Time) ©BBC
The opening of "World Enough and Time"279 (the first of an explicit two-part story), with the Doctor starting to regenerate, makes it very clear: we are reaching the end of Peter Capaldi's tenure as the Doctor.  And so what follows does have a bit of a sense of finality to it, even though we know on an intellectual level that he's got one more story after this one to go.

But after the credit sequence we shift gears a bit.  The back half of this series, they've been teasing whether or not Missy has been reformed, and so here they kick it up a notch, with Missy taking the place of the Doctor for an investigation of a distress call from a massive colony ship, currently trying to avoid falling into a black hole.  "Hello," she announces.  "I'm Doctor Who.  And these are my plucky assistants, Thing One and the Other One."  There's a bit of business about whether his name is actually Doctor Who, with an almost Ford Prefect-like suggestion that he chose the name because he thought he would blend in (although ultimately the evidence seems to suggest against that being his name at all280), and then the huge shocker, with Bill getting a very big hole blasted clean through her chest.

But that's OK, since, if you'd been paying attention to the publicity surrounding this episode (and series 10 in general), you'd know this is a Cyberman story, so Bill can be repaired.  And not just any Cyberman story: this features the return of the original design of Cybermen, the ones all the way back from Hartnell's swan song, The Tenth Planet.  (This was reportedly done as a favor to Peter Capaldi, who had maintained that the Tenth Planet Cybermen were one of his favorite monsters.)  And so, after some near misses and almost-rans, we're finally getting a "Genesis of the Cybermen" story.  (Well, sort of; we'll pick this up next time.)  But not before we get a bit of a sad flashback, to the Doctor telling Bill that he wants to believe Missy is still good because she's his oldest friend.  ("She's my man-crush ... Yeah, I think she was a man back then," the Doctor comments, in a way meant to remind viewers that Missy was once male -- but which also, in hindsight, looks like them preparing the way for the thirteenth Doctor, Jodie Whittaker.)

But the other clever thing that "World Enough and Time" does is finally deal with relativity, particularly in relation to black holes.  (See "The Impossible Planet"/"The Satan Pit", in case you need a reminder of how far we've come.)  This is therefore a story that actually grapples a bit with the idea that the end of the ship furthest from the event horizon is moving much faster temporally than the end closest.  (Although one can't help but wonder if it was the 2014 film Interstellar, which dealt with relativity in a similar way, that's ultimately responsible for the basic idea here.)  Ultimately, this means that, once Bill is taken down to the bottom of the ship for surgery, time moves much faster for her than for the Doctor, Nardole, and Missy -- and so consequently, this becomes her episode.  She gets to see the slow process by which the Cybermen are created (not that she knows that -- or even that we do, technically, although the clues are all there), and we get to see the subtle ways she's changed as time has passed for her.  She's accompanied by a strange, charming little fellow named Razor, who seems quite kindly and who wiles away the years (because it definitely seems like she's down there for years) with her.  Razor rather reminded me of Zathras from the show Babylon 5, with the slightly silly accent, the hair, and the hunched, shuffling-yet-lilting walk -- which may be why I didn't realize who he really was until he went and found Missy.

The Doctor confronts a Cyberman. ("World Enough and Time")
Because yes, Razor is in fact John Simm, the Master himself (hence the need to remind the audience about a male Master, near the top of the episode).  Sadly, this surprise was spoiled by last week's "next time" trailer (as well as independent publicity), which showed that he was back (and sporting a fetching goatee, just like the Masters of old (Simm's idea, apparently)).  Because imagine the surprise if we hadn't known.  That's a hell of a reveal, and Simm pulls it off really well, with Missy a bit distracted by the fact that this ship is from Mondas (home of the original Cybermen!) until he removes the mask he's been wearing.  "Hello, Missy," he says.  "I'm the Master, and I'm very worried about my future.  Give us a kiss."  And then combine that with the horrific reveal that Bill (who'd been partially cybernized, thanks to the hole in her chest) has in fact been fully converted into a Cyberman, much to the Doctor's horror.  "I am Bill Potts," we hear in that wonderful weird old-school Cyberman voice, and the camera shows us Bill's eye behind the mask, just in case we thought it might be a trick.  That's awesome.

So this is an incredibly successful first half, one that not only allows Steven Moffat to play with time once more and throw in a creepy Cyberman development story, but also provides an impressive showcase for both Pearl Mackie and John Simm.  This is ultimately their episode, and both of them seize the opportunity eagerly.  I would have happily watched the two of them do an entire episode of just them waiting, that's how good they are here.  And with a hell of a double-cliffhanger, it looks like series 10 is going to go out very firmly on top -- so long as they can keep up the momentum, that is...

August 19: "The Doctor Falls"

Bill carries the Doctor. ("The Doctor Falls") ©BBC
In the previous episode, the disguised Master mentioned that a group of people had gone up to one of the solar farms on floor 507, but that they were never heard from again (because of that whole relativity thing).  Well, this time we head to those people, to save them from the Cybermen below who want to convert them into fellow Cybermen.

There's definitely a sense of desperation running under this entire episode.  The Cybermen are treated as an implacable force, one that can only be delayed, not defeated -- which, it turns out, is the sort of thing the Cybermen have needed in order to actually be a serious threat.  Lots of other Cyberman stories have claimed this is the case but have never really shown it.  This is probably the closest we've got to actually seeing that threat fully realized.  The Cybermen are, in some ways, essentially a force of nature: "They always get started," the Doctor tells the Masters.  "They happen everywhere there's people.  Mondas, Telos, Earth, Planet 14, Marinus.281  Like sewage and smartphones and Donald Trump, some things are just inevitable."  There's also a suggestion that this might be the Master's fault in some ways, as he arrived on the ship, ruled over the people living on the bottom, and then they overthrew him -- but perhaps he influenced their development into Cybermen along the way.

But yeah, most of this story involves floor 507, and the preparations for the inevitable invasion of the Cybermen, who've already had a huge number of years to advance (leading to the "Nightmare in Silver" et seq version, which suggests that maybe those Cybermen were in fact also Mondasian, rather than something else).  The huge change here, of course, is Bill, who really has been turned into a Cyberman, full stop.  The only reason she's still hanging on at all is because her experiences with the Monks during "The Lie of the Land" mean she's used to holding on to her identity.  This means that Pearl Mackie still gets to play scenes, as when we get moments from her perspective she's still herself, not a Cyberman -- and, touchingly, the Doctor seems to view her the same way, as Bill.  And Mackie absolutely goes for it; the scenes in the barn, where she looks at herself in the mirror and then gets angry, inadvertently activating her headlamp weapon and demolishing the barn door, are really very impressive.

Also, I should take a moment to praise Matt Lucas.  Nardole has frequently been the comic relief this series, which has been quite lovely, but here he finally gets to step up and be the hero.  The computer skills they've kept referencing get used in a big way, and he absolutely saves the day, even if he doesn't want to.  He's sent off to guide the people to a different floor, to become their protector.  It's a really touching farewell between him and the Doctor and Bill, and he's left to defend them against the Cybermen.  It's really quite sad to see him go -- he'd come a long way from a jokey, bit character in "The Husbands of River Song".

The Masters and the Doctor prepare to fend off the Cybermen. ("The
Doctor Falls") ©BBC
And we also get some moments with both Masters (and John Simm's Master is still being written as completely insane and malevolent, which is rather wonderful), as the old Master has no interest in saving anyone other than himself, while Missy seems to have genuinely changed after her time with the Doctor, even if only a little.  It's a lot of fun, honestly, watching Simm and Michelle Gomez inhabit scenes together.  We've never had a multi-Master story on TV before, and it's great to finally see one.  Watching the old Master wonder how he became a woman, and with Missy a bit hazy on how exactly it happened, are lovely (and a bit of foreshadowing, if you've remembered that Time Lords meeting themselves don't retain the memory of events).  We even get some dismissive misogyny from the old Master ("Is the future going to be all girl?" the Master asks snidely.  "We can only hope," the Doctor replies -- again, making it look like they're preparing us for the next Doctor, even though Jodie Whittaker wasn't announced as such until after this episode went out), which is again perfectly in keeping with his character.  But this also means that the Doctor can rail against them both, after they decide that he can't win against the Cybermen and so therefore they're leaving:
DOCTOR: I'm going to be dead in a few hours, so before I go, let's have this out, you and me, once and for all.  Winning?  Is that what you think it's about?  I'm not trying to win.  I'm not doing this because I want to beat someone, or because I hate someone, or because, because I want to blame someone.  It's not because it's fun and God knows it's not because it's easy.  It's not even because it works, because it hardly ever does.  I do what I do because it's right!  Because it's decent!  And above all, it's kind.  It's just that.  Just kind.  If I run away today, good people will die.  If I stand and fight, some of them might live.  Maybe not many, maybe not for long.  Hey, you know, maybe there's no point in any of this at all, but it's the best I can do, so I'm going to do it.  And I will stand here doing it till it kills me.  You're going to die too, some day.  How will that be?  Have you thought about it?  What would you die for?  Who I am is where I stand.  Where I stand, is where I fall.  Stand with me.  These people are terrified.  Maybe we can help, a little.  Why not, just at the end, just be kind?
And while the old Master remains resolutely unconvinced ("See this face?  Take a good, long look at it.  This is the face that didn't listen to a word you just said"), Missy seems much more uncertain, which shows her character development -- to the point where, although she initially goes along with her other self, she decides she is going to make a stand with the Doctor, even though it means killing her older self in order to do it.  Not that the Master will stand for this ("No.  Never.  Missy!  I will never stand with the Doctor!"), so he kills his future self, claiming that she won't even be able to regenerate (although I guess we'll see in the future if that was true).  This is the end of Missy's arc, one of partial redemption but which was ultimately undone by her own hand (sort of), and it's surprisingly satisfying.  "You see, Missy, this is where we've always been going," the dying Master tells her.  "This is our perfect ending.  We shoot ourselves in the back."

But that speech also reflects the twelfth Doctor's journey.  He started out quite aloof and uncaring of humanity, preferring to take a larger view of things, but as time went on he moved to this, to the point where he's willing to sacrifice himself just to buy others time to escape.  The little speech from "Extremis" ("Good is good in the final hour, in the deepest pit without hope, without witness, without reward.  Virtue is only virtue in extremis") kept running through my head through this, and so when it actually came up again at the end of the episode it wasn't a surprise.  This is the Doctor making a stand and falling as a result because that is who he is.  Ready to sacrifice himself for the sake of others.

The first Doctor talks to the twelfth. ("The Doctor Falls") ©BBC
The ending, of course, means that he blows up all the Cybermen and himself.  And this leads to a bit of deus ex machina, with Bill rescued by Heather, the girl from "The Pilot", but I find I don't mind.  They've been hinting at it a bit with the tears stuff, and Bill is such a great character that I want a happy ending for her, even if it stretches credulity just a bit.  Bill gets the girl and gets to explore the universe with her (so, er, a bit like the ending to Clara's story last series then), off to have her own adventures.  (Although she will be back one last time for the Christmas special.)  And so the Doctor is left alone in the TARDIS (having been transported there by Heather), preparing to regenerate -- although he, like the tenth Doctor, doesn't want to go. "I don't want to change again.  Never again!" he shouts.  "I can't keep on being somebody else."  And so the TARDIS brings him to the end of his very first regeneration (and gloriously, David Bradley makes the transition from playing William Hartnell in the docudrama An Adventure in Space and Time to being an official, canon version of the first Doctor, alongside Hartnell and Five Doctors actor Richard Hurndall) -- and we'll have to wait until Christmas to see what happens next...

This has thus been a great story, with some fantastic characters and a great, clever storyline.  It's a "big" episode, obviously, what with being the series 10 finale and all, but they pull it off with great aplomb.  This is full of memorable moments and great (and sometimes shocking) surprises.  In fact, this might be the finest series finale of Moffat's entire tenure. Definitely a winner.

And yes, there's still the final episode of both the twelfth Doctor and the Steven Moffat eras to go, but this is essentially the end of series 10.  I commented under series 9 how much more accessible and confident that run had been than series 8, but 10 feels as much of an advance over 9 as 9 did over 8.  Part of it is that 10 feels even more easy for the casual audience to watch and enjoy than 9 did, with little in the way of overarching or convoluted storylines.  But this welcoming feeling is also in no small part due to the chemistry between Peter Capaldi, Pearl Mackie, and Matt Lucas.  Capaldi has mellowed into the role and become incredibly comfortable in it, to the point where he just is the Doctor, while Mackie has brought such an energy and affection and naturalness to the role of Bill that she makes just about every scene she's in worth watching.  And Lucas has hit the perfect balance of comedy and seriousness, making him just as excellent.  This TARDIS team is one of the all-time greats, aided by a series of stories that have been generally high-quality -- and even when they're a bit weaker, these three elevate the material.  Series 10 is a definite success, due in no small part to them.

So thanks once again for reading my thoughts on the latest series of Doctor Who.  Hopefully we'll see you again on August 20, 2018, for "Twice Upon a Time", and the final end of the twelfth Doctor and the Moffat years...

August 20, 2018: "Twice Upon a Time"

It's been almost six months since "The Doctor Falls" left us with that double-cliffhanger of both the Doctor refusing to regenerate and meeting the first Doctor in that snow-covered landscape, but now it's Christmas 2017 and we can finally learn what happens next, here at the final episode of both Peter Capaldi's tenure as the twelfth Doctor and Steven Moffat's tenure as showrunner.

If you've been following my blog up to this point (and if you haven't, hello and welcome!), you'll have noticed that I've generally been pretty satisfied with Steven Moffat's run on the show, and even when he doesn't quite get it right there's enough there to satisfy me for the most part, and I can usually see what he's getting at.  But with this episode, I think I started to see what his detractors were talking about.  There's definitely a sense of Moffat being too clever and knowing that's running through this episode.

That's not to say that there aren't some great moments, because there definitely are.  I love the confidence of opening the episode with footage from a 51-year-old black-and-white story (The Tenth Planet, in case you need reminding), which ends up blending rather well into footage of David Bradley, doing his own version of the first Doctor.  (It seems they had a go at restaging the relevant bits of The Tenth Planet with Bradley in the whole time, but wisely, they decided to stick with the original footage until halfway through, at which point most of what we see is from the now-missing episode 4 anyway.)  And as I mentioned last time, making David Bradley an official canon Doctor actor, rather than just in the Adventure in Space and Time docudrama, is really lovely as well. And Bradley, unsurprisingly, does a good job as the first Doctor, making his version similar to William Hartnell's but still distinct.  (Although his speech patterns do occasionally feel more like William Shatner than Hartnell.)

The twelfth and first Doctors exchange a look. ("Twice Upon a Time")
There's also some fabulous interplay between the first and twelfth Doctors.  Watching the two of them somewhat warily circle each other, metaphorically speaking, is fun, and you get the sense that these two are equals, despite the experience that the twelfth Doctor has on the first. It's also fun watching Twelve being delighted at how One calls the TARDIS the Ship, and trying not to let on to him just how much he's changed in the intervening years, wincing as the first Doctor watches the "Doctor of War" stuff that Testimony shows him. And the first Doctor gets some nice moments in criticizing the new boy's various sonic devices -- and it's great how Moffat makes sure that the first Doctor is just as clever as the twelfth at times, such as by observing that the glass avatar must have been based on a real person. "Her face, it's very slightly asymmetrical.  If it were computer-generated, it wouldn't produce that effect," he notes.

But I don't know if it's because they've decided it's a Christmas special and they need some jokes, or if it's Steven Moffat being Moffat, but there are some problematic elements with the first Doctor as he's portrayed here.  It starts with the first Doctor describing the twelfth to the Captain as his nurse, going on to say that elderly gentlemen can be made useful.  "OK, well, he's just rationalizing it for the Captain," I thought.  Then he makes comments about how dirty Twelve's TARDIS is, so obviously Polly's not around anymore.  "Well, Polly wanting to dust things actually would be in character for her," I thought somewhat desperately, "so that's just about all right."  But then he starts talking about women being fragile and being surprised that Bill likes girls and it becomes too much.  It's infuriating mainly because that's not how the first Doctor was.  Was William Hartnell the actor like that?  Sure -- but the first Doctor wasn't.  It doesn't even make sense for him to be that way, given that he comes from the advanced and enlightened society of the Time Lords, as the twelfth Doctor would occasionally mention during series 10.  And crucially, there's virtually no evidence on-screen that the first Doctor was any less enlightened than the twelfth.282  But no, this is how a generation of children are going to think the first Doctor behaved, just so they could make some cheap shot jokes.  And it's particularly frustrating because when David Bradley doesn't have to deal with this and can just be the Doctor (such as his discussion with Bill about why he went out into the universe), he shines, making his Doctor very likable.  But the "haha, the '60s were so backwards" material casts a pall over things, making it not as enjoyable as it should be.

Balancing that, though, is Mark Gatiss's very enjoyable turn as Captain Archibald Hamish Lethbridge-Stewart (although they don't reveal his identity until the end, thus fooling almost no one).  I love the stiff-upper-lip approach Gatiss gives him, and the speech to Bill about no longer being ready to die is really well done.  I also adore the way he responds to the Doctor, after the Doctor points him out as a World War I captain.  "Yes, but what do you mean, 'One'?" he asks.  It's a great performance, and I liked it a lot more than his last major role in the show, as Professor Lazarus in "The Lazarus Experiment".  And plus it's always great to have more Pearl Mackie, even if she's a memory of Bill rather than the person herself.  (Yeah, think I'm on the Doctor's side on this, no matter how much she protests otherwise.)  Ooh, and we get to see the inside of the first Doctor's TARDIS, and they've scaled everything properly this time (versus the similar look in "Hell Bent") -- and the extra props like the elaborate clock and the astral map are great too.

So it's not all bad by any means.  But it does sometimes feel on some level like Moffat's just running through some of his greatest hits, and not as well as the first time around.  The enemy that's not actually evil was done far better in "The Pilot" at the start of this year, because there at least it seemed like there was an issue with communication; here it looks more like Testimony is being deliberately obtuse, just to make sure the Doctor gets the wrong end of the stick.  "We take from you what we need and return you to the moment of your death," the glass avatar tells him, rather than something more useful like "we record their memories before they die so that we have a record of their lives and experiences".  It's like Testimony wants to fight the Doctor of War.  (Well, maybe they do; maybe they engineered the whole thing so that they could talk through Bill to the first Doctor, to find out what he was looking for when he left Gallifrey.)  All this just so the ending can be about a happy misunderstanding about New Earth historians from 5,000,000,012 doing some research, instead of something sinister.283  And then there's the pointless inclusion of Rusty the Dalek from "Into the Dalek", who's here...just because?  It's not like they're making a thematic connection between the two episodes, so it feels tacked on, like Moffat felt the need to tie up a loose thread that no one was that bothered by.  Then there's how the first Doctor's comments about his future (particularly regarding the sonic stuff) feel like a bit of a retread of the War Doctor's in "The Day of the Doctor".  And even the inclusion of the first Doctor's TARDIS, while lovely, loses a bit of its impact because we'd already seen something like it at the end of series 9.

So the overall feeling of "Twice Upon a Time" is one of frustrating unevenness.  Because when it works, it really works.  Capaldi and Mackie continue to be a delight, the non-sexist first Doctor stuff is great, and while setting the World War I stuff immediately before the Christmas Day Armistice is a bit obvious, they pull it off by playing it so sincerely.  (Oh, and I wonder if the timeline error related to the Captain was not the presence of two Doctors at the South Pole, but the fact that he was supposed to die but didn't, due to the Doctor's change.)  It's also fun how they cast writer Toby Whithouse as the German opposite the Captain in the crater, and I like how, if you know a bit of German, you know that he doesn't want to kill the Captain anymore than the Captain wants to kill him, but because neither can understand the other they would have ended up shooting each other anyway, had the Doctor not intervened.  And the part where Testimony restores the Doctor's memories of Clara is lovely -- and I like the farewell scene between the Doctor, Bill, and Nardole (hooray, Nardole!), as they get to say goodbye one last time.  But at the other times I've already mentioned, the episode just falls flat.  It's like they needed one more pass at the script to take out some of Moffat's self-indulgence.  "Twice Upon a Time" could have been a winner, a fantastic send-off for the twelfth Doctor, but as it is, it's just somewhat middling.

Peter Capaldi regenerates into Jodie Whittaker. ("Twice Upon a Time")
But yes, here we are at the final moments of Peter Capaldi as the twelfth Doctor, as he finally decides to regenerate after all.  "I suppose one more lifetime wouldn't kill anyone," he says.  "Well, except me."  And so after a speech that honestly seems a bit overwritten (and just largely restates things better expressed in the 50th anniversary special) but that Capaldi does the best he can with, the end comes: "Doctor, I let you go," he says, and then the regenerative energy explodes from him, destroying large parts of the TARDIS as the thirteenth Doctor arrives.  And this really is a big change: for the first time ever, the Doctor is now a woman.  "Oh, brilliant," she says happily, seeing her reflection in one of the console screens, before the doors fly open and she's sucked out of the ship and into freefall above a planet.  (Honestly, given how often this keeps happening (every regeneration since the War Doctor's, and that one might have been the same way too, we don't actually know), you'd think the Doctor would have learned by now to land the TARDIS before regenerating.)  And so Jodie Whittaker and the thirteenth Doctor awaits us...

But before we get there, there are some farewells to make, not the least of which is to Peter Capaldi.  I know some people were put off by his initial portrayal as a darker, less caring Doctor, and while I didn't mind it too much, it felt like he really came to his own after series 8, as he became far more relaxed and fun in the role.  Capaldi had some truly excellent moments, and it was while I was rewatching series 10 that I fully realized just how perfect he is as a Doctor.  Each Doctor finds a way to make it their own, to make it clear that you're not watching an actor but the character, and Capaldi was no different; in fact, I found myself believing he was the Doctor almost more than the other modern Doctors, he embodied the character so well.  I wouldn't be surprised to see people's estimation of his Doctor go up as they come back to these stories and find just how good he really was.  And so it's sad to see him go, but he definitely made his mark on the show.  For me, he was the Doctor.

It's also time to say goodbye to series composer Murray Gold, who's been here since the beginning of the BBC Wales run.  While I'd sometimes found his scores a little too on-the-nose, I also think he really matured as a composer over the last ten series; there are some really wonderful and imaginative scores and orchestrations in some of his later stuff, as he became more comfortable with taking risks, using electronic instruments and backwards music and such.  I don't think it's unfair to say that his music defined Doctor Who over this period as much as the actors or showrunners did, and it'll definitely be different without him.

And of course, this is the final story for Steven Moffat as showrunner.  As I noted above, not everyone loved what he did.  But I thought he brought some (to me) welcome elements of magic and fairytale to the show.  Doctor Who under his tenure became more about exploring the universe again, about seeing what else is out there, instead of being as focused on Earth as Russell T Davies' era was.  He also had a more relaxed view toward continuity than RTD had, which meant offhand mentions of things like the message box from The War Games and Alpha Centauri could coexist along more modern references to things like the fate of Gallifrey and "The Next Doctor"'s Cyber-king.  Some people didn't care for this, but I didn't mind; I like how it made it feel like all of Doctor Who was fair game and anyone or anything could pop up if they really wanted -- with the Mondasian Cybermen only being the most spectacular realization of this.

But the main thing about Moffat's Doctor Who is how confident it feels.  There's always the sense that they know exactly what they're doing and that the audience will come along, and that means that even when they want to try something as complex as series 6's arc, there's that feeling that this is precisely what they want to do.  Moffat's Doctor Who is not a show that talks down to its audience, but nor does it hold their hand all the time.  And even when they don't pull things off (*cough*iPod Daleks*cough*), you get the sense that the production team is glad they tried it, rather than just choosing to play it safe.  For me, this is a period of the show with far more hits than misses, and I'm glad that Steven Moffat got the chance to put his mark on the show.

But Doctor Who is a show about change as much as anything else, and now it's time for the next big one: Chris Chibnall is the new showrunner and Jodie Whittaker is the new Doctor, and I can't wait to see what they get up to.  I'll be back on August 21, 2019, to discuss this exciting new beginning; hope to see you all again then!


274 Having taught classes where Superman and Clark Kent have come up, I can in fact inform you that no, not everyone knows that they're the same person.  That made for an interesting conversation...
275 Oh!  But the Daleks are different; these are the bronze versions that we'd previously assumed were only introduced in the Time War, not the grey ones that were standard through most of the original run.  Here's an effort to resolve any possible continuity problems: the bronze versions were initially introduced during the Movellan War to see if they were any more effective against the Movellans.  They weren't, so the Daleks didn't make a huge switch en masse, but they later found the bronze shell was useful against the Time Lords, so that's when they made the switch.  But I'm sure you can come up with a different in-universe explanation if you want.
276 This might be because Harry was, in initial drafts, supposed to be related to one-time companion Harry Sullivan, so it could have been him who told the others about the Doctor, rather than Bill.  But when they cut the reference to Sullivan they didn't adjust the rest of the script to match -- in other words, draft artifact.
277 Personal moment of pride: the minute they started doing the Shadow Test I instantly realized it must mean they were in a computer simulation because of pseudorandomness.  It made me feel clever.
278 Three minutes to midnight is where the real Clock was set until January 2017, when the inauguration of the new US President, Donald Trump, helped nudge the clock thirty seconds closer.  But that didn't happen until literally a week after they finished filming this story, which is why there's this slight discrepancy.
279 The title comes from an Andrew Marvell poem, "To His Coy Mistress" ("Had we but world enough, and time,/This coyness, Lady, were no crime"), which is why it tends to pop up in various places, including the third part of Big Finish's second volume of The Diary of River Song, as well as an episode of the fan production Star Trek: New Voyages, which is notable not only for guest-starring George Takei as Sulu, but also for being nominated for a Hugo Award in 2008 -- an award it lost to Steven Moffat's "Blink".  Which means Moffat might have been subconsciously already aware of the title when he named this episode...
280 So yes, obviously there's The War Machines to consider and the various early Troughton episodes where he calls himself some suggestion of this (Dr. W, Dr. von Wer), but even setting that aside and just considering his reaction in this episode, where he decides he likes the idea of being called Doctor Who, the implication is that, yes, Missy is indeed winding Bill and Nardole up.
281 Planet 14 is a reference to an unseen adventure mentioned in the Troughton story The Invasion, while Marinus is a reference to Grant Morrison's 1987 DWM comic story "The World Shapers", which suggested that the Voord eventually turned into the Cybermen.
282 Moffat tried to justify this by noting that the "jolly good smacked bottom" line is lifted straight from The Dalek Invasion of Earth.  Well yes, but he's addressing his granddaughter Susan at that point after she's just buried the TARDIS, and I'm pretty sure being annoyed at family members who you've helped raise is different from just general sexism.  And the thing is, this is basically the only example of anything like this at all during the Hartnell years.  The only other thing (unless you want to count things like his being annoyed at Dodo's slang) is a moment at the end of The Gunfighters, when he smacks Dodo on the butt with a rolled-up poster to get her to enter the TARDIS, but frankly it's very easy to envision him treating Steven in exactly the same way.
283 Do you suppose Testimony was wiped out by the Bliss virus from "Gridlock", seeing how that episode is set after the year five billion and twelve?