An Hour of Who a Day

July 17, 2016: "Prologue" / "The Doctor's Meditation" / "The Magician's Apprentice"

Hi there, welcome back! Hopefully you had a good year. We're back for a couple of weeks in order to tackle series 9 of Doctor Who, starting with the two prequel scenes that accompanied "The Magician's Apprentice" -- a reasonable idea to build anticipation for the upcoming episodes, since it has been nine months since "Last Christmas". So let's get started, shall we?

The first scene, simply entitled "Prologue", is a somber affair, with the Doctor on Karn, apparently avoiding someone. "He has asked to see you," says Ohila, the member of the Sisterhood of Karn last seen at Paul McGann's regeneration in "The Night of the Doctor". It becomes clear that the Doctor has done something wrong, and the item he hands Ohila is obviously something of great importance, and he knows that he has to make up for it somehow. "You are embarking on an enterprise that will end in your destruction," Ohila warns him. "You could say that about being born," the Doctor jokes bleakly. But no, it's time to go face the music.

But not quite yet. Our next prequel, "The Doctor's Meditation" (which was initially released as a special teaser accompanying the 3D theatrical screening of "Dark Water" / "Death in Heaven" overseas), is a much more light-hearted affair, with the Doctor in 12th century England, preparing to meditate but being completely incapable of sitting still for very long. One thing to note here that wasn't as obvious in the Prologue scene is how Capaldi's hair has grown -- or, as Terrance Dicks might say, how increasingly bouffant it's become. It has the effect of making Capaldi seem a bit less severe than in series 8 (well, that and the T-shirt and hoodie, matched with light grey plaid trousers), and the humorous tone of this piece also helps with this -- this Doctor at least seems much more comfortable with himself, even if he's avoiding something dark. It's a fun little scene, and it does the job of making us curious as to just what the Doctor is running from, what it was that he did wrong.

Stuart Manning's poster for "The Magician's
Apprentice" (from Doctor Who: exclusive
The Magician's Apprentice poster revealed)

That brings us to the episode proper. "The Magician's Apprentice", despite being a series opener (no matter what the box sets might have you believe), is something of a quiet, slow burn. Don't get me wrong, there are lots of big exciting ideas and such to make things feel tremendously important, but at its core this is an episode about the Doctor confronting one of the mistakes he's made. It's a great cold open, by the way, and the way Capaldi's face falls as he learns that the boy he's going to rescue is in fact a young Davros is marvellous to behold. But it's that decision he made that propels this entire episode, as he comes to terms with the fact that he left Davros behind.

More on that in a moment, but for now let's focus on everything leading up to the Doctor's inevitable reunion with Davros. As I said, there are some big ideas in this episode and some fun callbacks, such as a return to the Maldovarium (from a number of episodes, starting with "The Pandorica Opens") and the Shadow Proclamation (from "The Stolen Earth") -- and look, they've even brought back Kelly Hunter as the Shadow Architect, just for this scene. But perhaps the biggest idea in the first half is the fact that all the planes in the sky on Earth have been halted. This is just a way for Missy to get UNIT's attention -- and yes, Missy is back with no explanation whatsoever as to how she wasn't killed at the end of "Death in Heaven". "How come you're still alive?" Clara asks her. "Death is for other people, dear," Missy replies dismissively.²⁶³ It's wonderful to see Michelle Gomez back as the Master, and she shows that she's just as crazy as ever, even if this time she's ostensibly on the Doctor's side, having received his confession dial -- his last will and testament. The Doctor expects to die.

Which is what makes his appearance in 12th-century Essex all the more fun, as he rides in on a tank, wearing sunglasses and playing electric guitar: he knows he may die, but he's going to enjoy himself before he goes. It's an unusual sight, but Capaldi makes it seem incredibly natural for his Doctor to play guitar licks. But as I noted earlier, despite all the spectacle this is being driven by the Doctor meeting Davros. Getting picked up by a mobile colony of snakes (Colony Sarff) and bringing Missy and Clara along for the ride is just extra.

And it's great to see Julian Bleach back as Davros (who was also in "The Stolen Earth", come to think of it), giving us a weary, accusatory performance. It's wonderfully nuanced, with little of the ranting that frequently characterizes Davros. Plus we get some nifty callbacks to conversations he'd previously had with the Doctor -- another opportunity to hear Sylvester McCoy rant about unlimited rice pudding.

The Daleks wait for the Supreme Dalek's order. ("The Magician's
Apprentice") ©BBC

OK, before we continue: even though this is only, strictly speaking, discussing the first half of this story, I'm going to bring in some knowledge from "The Witch's Familiar", so if you haven't seen that yet you should stop reading and go watch that. Don't worry, we'll wait.

...

Right, so. There's one Tom Baker clip that Davros plays to the Doctor to accuse him, from the famous "Do I have the right?" scene from part six of Genesis of the Daleks. "If someone who knew the future pointed out a child to you, and told you that that child would grow up totally evil, to be a ruthless dictator who would destroy millions of lives, could you then kill that child?" the Doctor says in that. And this is what's great about this: for the Doctor, and for the first-time audience, this appears to accuse the Doctor, to say that because he attempted to, if not kill, at least not save the young Davros, he put Davros on the path toward creating the Daleks; because of that attempt, he grew up be totally evil. "Do you know why you came, Doctor? You have a sense of duty. Of guilt, perhaps. And certainly of shame," Davros says to him -- and later, when Clara's life is in danger: "Compassion, Doctor. It has always been your greatest indulgence. Let this be my final victory. Let me hear you say it, just once. Compassion is wrong." But for Davros, and for repeat viewers, suddenly the situation is turned on its head: Davros is accusing the Doctor of not killing Davros, of allowing the Daleks to be created as a result. In fact, because the Doctor ultimately saved Davros's life, he ensured a future full of the Daleks who've just killed Missy and are now threatening to kill Clara; thus, according to Davros, "compassion is wrong" because it led to the deaths of the Doctor's friends. That is frankly brilliant writing, and I'm full of admiration for Steven Moffat, fully intending that reading not to surface until you watch it a second time, with the knowledge of what the Doctor ultimately does.

So yeah, despite the spectacle, this episode comes down to the confrontation between the Doctor and Davros, and it's not about what we see, it's about what we hear, as these two take the time to talk to each other -- a conversation that seems destined to continue, red herring cliffhangers of the Doctor threatening young Davros's life notwithstanding. (Although even that's brilliant, as it starts to suggest that what Davros has been talking about isn't simply neglect but attempted murder.) But we'll have to wait for "The Witch's Familiar" to see how that works out.

²⁶³ Steven Moffat apparently intended this be something of an homage to the way Anthony Ainley's Master would keep popping up, with no explanation as to how he'd survived his previous story. Knowing that doesn't make this any less vaguely irritating, though.

July 16: "Last Christmas"

Stuart Manning's poster for "Last Christmas"
(from Doctor Who: Exclusive Last Christmas
poster revealed)

Strictly speaking (or going by home video boxsets, at least), this episode is the start of series 9, not the end of series 8. But "Last Christmas" (which, remember, only aired a month and a half after "Death in Heaven") partly concerns itself with addressing the unfinished business between the Doctor and Clara, as each lied to the other in the belief that it would make it easier for the other to say goodbye. But it's also a Christmas special, so we get a whole bunch of Christmassy stuff thrown in as well.

But pleasingly, instead of overwhelming us with Christmas imagery and narratives, we're treated to a creepy episode involving an alien crab that latches onto your face and induces a dream state. Cheekily, the end of the episode displays (most of) its influences on screen, as Shona looks at her Christmas to-do list, which includes watching the movies Alien, The Thing from Another World, and Miracle on 34th Street. (No mention of the other major influence on this episode, Inception, but perhaps that's making things a little too obvious -- at least with the others we can say that it was Shona influencing the dream, but including Inception would be a little too meta.) This means that we get a properly scary story that happens to involve Santa Claus.

I have to say, my initial thoughts upon hearing about this episode (well, beyond the obvious jokes about stories now being based on Wham! songs) was a bit of dread as to how they were to going to handle the Santa bit, but there was no need for concern; Steven Moffat has come up with a clever way to integrate Santa and his elves into the storyline without it bringing everything crashing down -- in fact, it just adds to everything. Yes, there's a bit of a sense that Nick Frost is playing Santa the same way he approaches his other roles, but to be fair, that's exactly what the script is looking for -- and he's clearly having fun doing it. Meanwhile, his two elves -- Dan Starkey (now out of his usual Strax makeup) and Nathan McMullen -- are just as much fun, commenting wryly on what's going on and with explanations for all the Santa mythology delivered in a condescending tone of voice.

But this is primarily an episode meant to scare you, and it does a good job. The dream crabs are a combination of being absurd and terrifying, and while, as Professor Albert Smithe (played by Patrick Troughton's son Michael) points out, they resemble the Facehuggers from Alien ("You know, Alien. The horror movie Alien," Albert says. "There's a horror movie called Alien?" the Doctor asks, aghast. "That's really offensive. No wonder everyone keeps invading you"), they're still very effective for the most part -- although the times when the "mouth" opens and reveals the face underneath are rather less successful. It's also an episode about dreams in dreams, and there are some clever moments as a result. "You know what the big problem is in telling fantasy and reality apart? ... They're both ridiculous," the Doctor says, but nevertheless that's the task that's been set for the Doctor, Clara, and these four scientists at the North Pole.

Santa asks the Doctor if he wants to fly the sleigh. ("Last
Christmas") ©BBC

Clara's dream with Danny is obvious wish fulfillment (both for her and for anyone who wanted to see Danny again), but it also serves a greater purpose: to lull the audience into thinking they can recognize the difference between dreams and reality, when in fact that's not remotely true -- it eventually turns out that everything we've seen has been a dream, which they're able to cleverly prove with the Helman-Ziegler test, where they all look at a copy of the same book and pick a random word to see if they're the same. (Of course, this would only work with proving shared dreaming, but it's still a really smart idea.) And so because they can prove it's all dreams, we get an explanation for Santa: it's their subconscious trying to save them from being killed by the Dream Crabs.

So there are thrills and magic coexisting side by side in "Last Christmas", like all the best Doctor Who stories. And there's also the fake out of the ending, where the Doctor goes to save Clara and discovers that she's become an old woman -- only to find out that this too is a dream.²⁶² But that gives the Doctor enough time to regret not going back for Clara, and since they've admitted their lies to each other and have made peace, they can go off and have more adventures together. (Although, worryingly and presumably unintentionally, this repeated "it's just a dream" ploy means that the final shot of the tangerine, which is actually meant to make you wonder if Santa actually is real, instead makes you wonder if they're in fact still in a dream.)

It's a fast-paced, exciting episode, with some scary monsters and some mind-twisting mechanics at work here. There are lots of both fun and suspenseful moments, matched by some lovely acting and clever ideas. Equal parts magic and fear, "Last Christmas" is a great episode, and possibly the best Christmas special of the Moffat era.

And so with "Last Christmas", 563 days later, I've reached the end of my daily Doctor Who (plus spin-offs) viewing. And while I suspect I'll be back for future episodes (though I'll likely wait until they're available in a block -- perhaps check back on 17 July 2016 for the start of series 9...), for now this is it. This, of course, isn't the end of Doctor Who -- series 9 is set to start on 19 September, and not only has series 10 been confirmed, but reportedly Steven Moffat had discussions with BBC Worldwide regarding the future of the next five years of the show. Doctor Who is as strong as ever (it was the BBC's top-selling programme last year) and it looks like there's no signs of it going away. (This presupposes the Tory government is unsuccessful in its current attempts (literally current; the government issued a green paper on the future of the BBC today) to dismantle the BBC.) And the impressive, amazing, wonderful thing about Doctor Who is that through nearly 52 years, the show continues to adapt and change while still remaining, at its heart, the same show about a man in a box travelling the universe and taking in the sights, helping where he can. Sydney Newman and company probably had little inkling of just how flexible a format they'd created, one that their successors could shape in new ways and still remain true to the core. It's little wonder the show has endured; it really is the greatest television show out there. Long may it continue.

²⁶² Reporters kept asking Jenna Coleman and Steven Moffat if Clara would be back for series 9, but they were both tight-lipped, telling people to watch the show and find out -- which led to all sorts of rumors either way. It turns out this was the escape valve: if Coleman wanted to leave, the "old woman" version would have been the reality, and if she wanted to stay, what we eventually got would happen.

July 15: "Death in Heaven"

Stuart Manning's poster for "Death in Heaven"
(from Exclusive Doctor Who Death in Heaven
poster revealed)

It's an admirably cheeky moment, this opening, as after Clara (attempting to prolong her life) tells a Cyberman that she's not Clara Oswald, she's really the Doctor, they alter the title sequence so that Jenna Coleman's name comes first, and that it's her eyes we see instead of Capaldi's. These are the sorts of little moments that make this show something special.

If "Dark Water" was the tense, brooding first half, then "Death in Heaven" is the action-packed second, with lots of thrilling moments -- Cybermen rising from graves! Flying around the planet! Tearing apart an airplane! -- packed into an hour-long episode. But for all that, it's still the smaller character scenes that ultimately provide the best moments here. And to the credit of writer Steven Moffat and director Rachel Talalay, it's clear that that's the point; the Cyberman army, for all its new tricks, takes a backseat to the machinations of the new Master.

Michelle Gomez continues to have an absolute riot of a time as the new Master, providing us with a character who is absolutely insane and knows it and doesn't care. She delights in telling people that they're going to die (her interactions with Osgood being a prime example of her insanity) and she seems completely self-assured, as she knows that her Cyber-pollen plan has already taken effect and there's nothing anyone can do about it. ("Throw away your weapons, Man Scout, it's all over," the Doctor tells Colonel Ahmed. "How can you win a war against an enemy that can weaponise the dead?") There's something incredibly appealing about Gomez's homicidal quirkiness, but it's made very clear that she's a killer, and what's more, that she's killing people for fun. This combination means she's a very dangerous opponent.

And yet the twist is that she's gone to all this trouble of harvesting dying minds and creating a new race of Cybermen from the bodies of the dead (although one wonders how they get enough material to cover themselves in metal/plastic -- surely the Cyber-pollen can't be that good?) in order to give it to the Doctor as a gift. ("Happy birthday," she tells him. "Oh! You didn't know, did you? It's lucky one of us remembers these things.") She wants to show the Doctor that they're really not that different, the Doctor and the Master, that they're still at heart the same people who were childhood friends, and so by giving him an army she'll make him like her. It's a marvelously insidious scheme that demonstrates that despite the outward changes, this is still the Master. (Thus cementing Neil Gaiman's throwaway line in "The Doctor's Wife" suggesting that Time Lords can change sex -- although, predictably, there was an element of fandom who objected strongly to the change, though for no obviously compelling reason.)

Clara hugs the Cybernised Danny. ("Death in Heaven") ©BBC

So yes, while the action sequences are entertaining -- watching Cybermen all over the UNIT airplane is a great image, and we get things like fan favorite Osgood's shocking death and Kate Stewart being sucked out of the craft -- it really is the character moments that anchor everything. The Cyber-converted Danny Pink, still in possession of his emotions (since he didn't delete them) as he's strapped inside the Cyber-suit, is a frankly impressive display of acting, even before he removes the faceplate. The way the actor inside (I'm guessing it's Jeremiah Krage) lowers his head after listening to the unaware Clara tell him that "I am an incredible liar" is fabulous, and the scenes of Danny inside the suit, his face pale and distorted by implants, are disturbing. And he's predictably not in the best mood, which is likely why he's so antagonistic toward the Doctor -- even more so than usual. "Clara, watch this," Danny says. "This is who the Doctor is. Watch the blood-soaked old general in action. I can't see properly, sir, because this needs activating. If you want to know what's coming, you have to switch it on. And didn't all of those beautiful speeches [about pain being a gift] just disappear in the face of a tactical advantage? Sir." But it's the confrontation with both Danny and the Master that finally lets the Doctor realize who he is. He's faced with a terrible choice (either accept the Cyberarmy as his or let the Cyber-pollen clouds rain death and destruction down on the living), but he finds the right decision. "Thank you," he tells the Master. "Thank you so much. I really didn't know. I wasn't sure. You lose sight sometimes. Thank you! I am not a good man! I am not a bad man. I am not a hero. And I'm definitely not a president. And no, I'm not an officer. Do you know what I am? I am an idiot, with a box and a screwdriver. Just passing through, helping out, learning. I don't need an army. I never have, because I've got them." He puts the decision to end things in the hands of Danny Pink, a soldier, allowing him to choose his own fate to save the lives of others. Thus the Earth is saved. I'm less convinced of the decision to create a Cyber-Brigadier, which does feel a tad ghoulish given that Nick Courtney has passed away, but it does at least provide a way of dealing with the Master that doesn't involve either Clara or the Doctor committing murder.

It's not exactly a triumphant ending, and the closing moments of the Doctor and Clara lying to each other (the Doctor about finding Gallifrey, Clara about having Danny back -- Danny chose to send back the child he'd killed as a soldier instead of himself) are quite downbeat. But what "Death in Heaven" makes clear is that the Doctor is not the Master. It tells us that love is an incredibly powerful force, and that it's the relationships we create that define us, for good or ill. Despite the superficial trappings, "Dark Water" / "Death in Heaven" is a thoughtful examination of these themes, and if the finished product lacks some of the impact of previous series finales, the difference is made up in those character moments.

Still, no wonder Santa shows up (in the middle of the end credits! Another cheeky move!) to tell the Doctor he and Clara can't leave things like that.

Series 8 has marked less a change of direction so much as a change of emphasis; in principle there's nothing really radically different about this year's run of stories from the previous year's, but what's changed is the focus on the characters. Series 7 was about big ideas, about the mystery of the Impossible Girl and the upcoming 50th anniversary story, while series 8 wants to examine our heroes. Who is this new Doctor? Who is Clara Oswald, now that she's not the girl who was "born to save the Doctor"? What is it like for these people to travel and see the things they've seen, and make the decisions they make? These are opportunities that both Jenna Coleman and Peter Capaldi seize eagerly. Coleman in particular flourishes, as Clara gains some nuances and becomes a more three-dimensional character, and you can tell that Coleman appreciates the chance to flesh out Clara's character. Peter Capaldi does just as well (even if the material he's given occasionally doesn't work -- and here I'm thinking of the odd insults he has to deliver to Clara in the early parts of this series), as he strives to give us a Doctor that's markedly different from the last two Doctors and succeeds in doing so without alienating viewers. This is an actor who loves the show, and that affection bleeds through every move, every line of dialogue, so that even when he's being brusque and unlikeable it's still clear that this Doctor is the same man as ever.

It's something of new ground for the show, to make the focus land so squarely on the Doctor and his companion, but it works; not only do we get more of an insight into these characters, but it also results in perhaps the most generally accessible run of episodes since series 4. You don't need to have been watching all the previous episodes to understand what's happening. And while series 8 has been a bit more uneven in quality than series 7 was, it rarely descends to levels of unwatchability, and there's always something entertaining or compelling going on. It does sometimes feel like you have to work a bit harder at this series, but there are plenty of rewards for those willing to do so. Even after 51 years, Doctor Who can find new things to say and do, and that's perhaps no clearer than in the whole of series 8.

July 14: "Dark Water"

Stuart Manning's poster for "Dark Water"
(from Doctor Who: exclusive Dark Water
poster revealed)

Exciting news for those of us who care about such things (and don't we all secretly?) -- "Dark Water" is the start of our first two-parter since 2011's "The Rebel Flesh" / "The Almost People". "Dark Water" / "Death in Heaven" is one of those two-parters where the first half leads to a completely different second half (as opposed to, say, "The Hungry Earth" / "Cold Blood", where there's a very clear through line from start to finish); here the first half is a somber affair, with little in the way of action and lots in the way of thoughtful creepiness.

It starts with the most horrifically mundane death ever: Danny Pink talking to Clara on the phone and struck and killed by a car as he's crossing the road. It's a surprisingly boring death for this show -- but that's the point. He didn't die sacrificing himself, or fighting for his beliefs, or even to show that the villain really means it; he died in a traffic accident. What it does, however, is spur Clara into desperate action; her best friend has a time machine, after all, and so all she can think of is getting Danny back, by changing the past, which leads to one of the most dramatic moments of series 8: Clara threatening the Doctor to either bring Danny back or be locked out of the TARDIS forever. It's a powerful moment, watching Clara toss in spare key after spare key in order to make the Doctor help her, and even when you know it's a trick it's still just as impressive. But what's best is that even after all that, after seeing how far Clara was willing to go, the Doctor is still willing to help. "You're going to help me?" she asks. "Well, why wouldn't I help you?" the Doctor replies. "Because of what I just did," Clara says. "I just—" "You betrayed me," the Doctor replies somewhat harshly. "Betrayed my trust, you betrayed our friendship, you betrayed everything that I've ever stood for. You let me down!" "Then why are you helping me?" Clara wonders. "Why?" the Doctor asks, genuinely confused. "Do you think I care for you so little that betraying me would make a difference?" And just like that, we know -- we for certain know -- what kind of man this Doctor is. He may be brusque and tactless and totally alien, but he still cares deeply. He's still, emphatically, a good man.

A big moment, but it leads to some suspenseful scenes, as the Doctor and Clara travel to what might be the afterlife and what seems to be a mausoleum. This is where we're finally getting a payoff for all those Missy scenes scattered throughout the previous episodes, of people being brought to the Nethersphere after they die. And since Danny's just died, he's currently in the Nethersphere, trying to work out what happened, which is why the TARDIS has arrived at 3W in the first place. These scenes apparently were cause for concern for some viewers, as it depicts a world where the dead are still conscious and feeling things that happen to their bodies, but it's hard to know what exactly is going on. The sales pitch by Dr. Chang is very smooth, but the Doctor doesn't believe a word of it and it's not hard to see his point of view -- other than Danny's presence, we don't have any genuine evidence that things are as 3W says they are. There are things to make us wonder though; the off-screen screaming could be staged, but the boy who Danny accidentally killed when he was a soldier -- the thing that clearly made him give up the soldier life -- seems too real to be a fake. Although it could be a clever manipulation to make Danny give up his emotions so that he can become a Cyberman.

The Cybermen reveal is a good move, by the way; despite knowing that they were going to be in this episode (from both all the publicity photos from when the Cybermen were marching outside St. Paul's (again) and the "Next Time" trailer at the end of "In the Forest of the Night"), it took me an awfully long time to realize that the bodies inside the "dark water" tanks that only revealed organic matter were full of Cybermen, and that the 3W logo was in fact a Cyberman eye, with the teardrop motif and everything. Perhaps sharper viewers than me were wishing they'd just get on with it, but it was a pleasant feeling as the pieces finally all fell into place, right when presumably the production team wanted them to. It also sets the stage for the next episode, with Missy in control of Cybermen, populated by minds snatched up by a piece of Gallifreyan tech -- the Matrix data-slice²⁶¹ -- and all ready to do her bidding.

Missy reveals her identity. ("Dark Water") ©BBC

It's nice to finally get the Missy stuff out in the open, and Michelle Gomez is clearly having a ball in the role, pretending to be a welcome droid and then killing Dr. Chang -- but only after he says something nice, because "[t]his is going to be our last conversation, and I'm the one who's going to have to live with that." Missy is clearly a psychopath, but she also has a sense of humor, which makes her even more frightening -- she's someone you could potentially reason with who's still going to kill you. Her chemistry with Peter Capaldi is really good -- Missy is loving the fact that the Doctor doesn't recognize her, and she's clearly enjoying putting him on the back foot (the kissing scene being a prime example of this). They also do a good job with the misdirection of Missy's identity -- being called a Time Lady and such (my brother in fact was convinced that this was Romana, and that the Mistress stuff was related to K-9's term of address for her); it's a shame the bit of location filming misdirection -- "I'm the Random Access Neural Integrator" -- wasn't kept. But while Cybermen are on the march, leaving St. Paul's cathedral (that's a nice twist, by the way, putting 3W inside a London landmark like that but not telling us until we step outside), the best part is her revelation of her true identity to the slow-on-the-uptake Doctor:

DOCTOR: Who are you?
MISSY: Oh, you know who I am. I'm Missy.
DOCTOR: Who's Missy?
MISSY: Please, try to keep up. Short for "Mistress". Well, I couldn't very well keep calling myself the Master, now could I?

(from The Doctor Who Transcripts - Dark Water)

If "Death in Heaven" is as good as this episode has been, we're in for a smashing series 8 finale.

²⁶¹ This is a clever bit of writing, as we've known as far back as The Deadly Assassin that the Matrix can snatch dying minds and upload them to a large network (hence "Matrix"), which means that we're immediately on board with the idea of living minds being snatched up and stored -- although, intriguingly, Steven Moffat doesn't hold the viewers' hands here: either you recognize the reference and make the connection, or you simply move on. It's not explained at length, which is, I think, a wise move.

July 13: "In the Forest of the Night"

Stuart Manning's poster for "In the Forest of
the Night" (from Doctor Who: exclusive In the
Forest of the Night poster revealed)

It's something of a coup, getting Frank Cottrell-Boyce to write an episode of Doctor Who. He's well known as a screenwriter and the author of the 2012 London Olympics opening ceremony, as well as the author of a number of children's books. So perhaps it's not surprising to find that his contribution to Doctor Who is a semi-magical fairy tale of trees growing over night, of children who've been rejected but some of whom hold the answers to what's going on.

It's a pity it's all somewhat dull, though.

I'm not actually sure what the problem is, to be honest. Is it a matter of the direction not getting across the magical realism feeling that the script is going for? Is it a more basic problem of scripting, of something being missing that should have been there to make this click? Or is it some combination of these things and more? Because this seems like the sort of story idea that should suit Doctor Who to a T -- a forest springing up overnight is a fantastic concept, and the visuals of traffic lights overgrown with greenery and Nelson's Column surrounded by trees and vines are very striking. Really, the only issue there is the lack of basically anyone else around -- for being in the center of London, there aren't many people wandering around the new forest, are there? But then that makes the students of Coal Hill's "Gifted and Talented" group more special, because they're the ones who get to explore this strange new wilderness.

To the credit of both Cottrell-Boyce and casting director Andy Pryor, the children we see here aren't thoroughly irritating or wet, but instead are both real people and rather charming (the best one is Samson, who rebukes Danny Pink's "let's all pitch in" sensibilities by getting the "team" to move as a unit by replying at one point with, "We will [do this], if you stop calling us a team"). Ruby is shown to be smart but literal-minded, while Maebh has a special affinity with the trees (so long as she's not drugged into ignoring them, in a somewhat pointed commentary on overmedicating children). In fact, the issue here is that there's frankly not enough of this; we should get a better sense of who these children are, that they are in fact real people instead of troublemakers and problem children lumped together under a euphemism, but that only happens with a couple of them, and it would have been better if they'd extended the favor to more of them.

So there are some problems here and there, but they shouldn't be enough to drag things down. However, the biggest problem with "In the Forest of the Night" is that there's no threat whatsoever. All right, there's a small wolfpack and a tiger, but these come up and then are dealt with in short order, and there's nothing to replace them, despite an early half-hearted attempt to paint the trees as sinister. The story is instead relying on the magic of the situation to sustain things, and while it works in places (such as when the tree spirit things are talking through Maebh, while the Doctor makes them visible with the sonic screwdriver), everything else sags a bit. And unlike, say, Warriors' Gate (where "do nothing" is arrived at as the correct solution only after a lot of effort to do the opposite), here we're invited to simply marvel at how wonderful nature is, able to save the planet from destruction. Which isn't a bad thing by any means, but it also doesn't make for compelling drama.

I dunno, there's not really anything wrong with what we got from "In the Forest of the Night", but there's not enough there to really keep things going. Visually this is quite nice, and the storyline is sweet (even if a bit silly -- but as we're already dealing with a fairy tale-esque story the tree stuff isn't as egregious as "Kill the Moon" was), and there are some great character moments (such as the Doctor refuting Clara's urging of him to leave Earth when they think it's doomed by a solar flare by using her words from "Kill the Moon" -- "This is my world too. I walk your earth, I breathe your air" -- which is a nice way of bringing things back around). It's just a pity there's no clear threat to really keep things moving, and so the final effort is a bit dull.

Oh, and the happy ending of Maebh's runaway sister returning at the very end is so hideously twee as to be gag-inducing.

July 12: "Flatline"

Stuart Manning's poster for "Flatline" (from
Exclusive Doctor Who Flatline poster revealed)

Ooh, another milestone: "Flatline" is Doctor Who's 250th story. (This assumes the same things about what stories count as "Planet of the Dead" assumed, and further that "A Good Man Goes to War" and "Let's Kill Hitler" are separate stories -- not as uncontroversial a claim as you might initially think.) Plus Jamie Mathieson's second script comes right after his first one -- which means he joins that small group of writers who've had back-to-back stories air.²⁶⁰ And just like "Mummy on the Orient Express", "Flatline" is very very good at providing a scary scenario with an implacable enemy.

There are, in fact, two things that are working in this episode's favor. The first is the nature of the Boneless, as the threat is slowly unveiled bit by bit in a logical way, leading to them stalking our heroes through sitting rooms and atmospheric tunnels. The second is the way the Doctor is trapped inside the TARDIS (yep, this is the Doctor-lite episode), which means that Clara has to step up and "be" the Doctor for this episode.

The first one is fascinating. There've occasionally been stories dealing with the idea of two dimensional beings (although not really on televised Doctor Who), but "Flatline" takes the idea very seriously and provides us with a clever rendition of the idea. The key thing about the Boneless is that they're totally unfathomable; we know that they're methodically working their way through people by pulling them into their two dimensional world, for some purpose that might be scientific, or might be malevolent, but that's about all we know. Like the Foretold in the previous story, the Boneless don't speak with us, so we can only infer their motives, and that makes them more scary. Do they really not know that they're killing people when they pull them into two dimensions, or do they not care -- or are even actively murdering people? That's creepy enough, and it's aided by a lot of good artwork on walls, CG effects, and some fantastic forced perspective tricks (the one where George appears to be standing near a wall, and then the camera pans to show that he's been flattened against all the surfaces is the best one) -- watching the Boneless stumble forward in their borrowed forms is creepy and visually impressive.

The second thing -- Clara being the Doctor -- is good because it not only gives Clara a chance to step forward and save people (with the Doctor's help, of course -- but the final solution is her idea), but it gives her the opportunity to see things from the Doctor's perspective. She knows that it's up to her to keep everyone alive, and that she'll have to lie to them in order to achieve that, because, as the Doctor says, "it's true that people with hope tend to run faster, whereas people who think they're doomed—" "Dawdle. End up dead," Clara finishes. ("So that's what I sound like," the Doctor remarks.) So she has to keep herself composed while trying to save everyone from something totally bizarre, and all the while the group is fragmenting -- Fenton is depicted as a terrible human being, someone so close-minded that psychic paper doesn't work on him and who dismisses the deaths of his fellow workers as being those of "Community Payback scumbags". (Incidentally, what is actually happening when Fenton knocks the TARDIS out of Clara's bag? He suddenly yells, "Give me that machine! Hand it over!" for no clear reason whatsoever (he might be going for the 2Dis, but it's not obvious) -- as if they needed a reason for Clara to drop the TARDIS and that was the best they could come up with.) It's a testament to Clara's skills that she's not only able to keep her cool under pressure, but also to come up with the answer to get the Doctor back so that he can send the Boneless back to their own place. It also means that she now has a better understanding of what it actually means to be the Doctor.

The Doctor, despite this being a Doctor-lite episode, gets quite a bit to do, as he looks through Clara's eyes to help figure out what's happening. There are also some fun gags with the TARDIS -- the shots of him looking through the doors (which are now tiny for him) don't always work (there's just something slightly off about the look of the thing), but moments like passing her a sledgehammer or walking his way off the train tracks like Thing from The Addams Family are cute. He may not be personally on the scene, but the Doctor is just as much a part of events as Clara is.

"Flatline" gives us a solid script with an imaginative concept, matched with excellent direction from Douglas Mackinnon and great special effects, which all combine with good performances to provide a tense, highly watchable episode. I asked for more like "Mummy on the Orient Express", and Mathieson definitely delivered -- "Flatline" is an outstanding episode, content to work within its limitations but pushing them as far as it can, to great success.

(All that said, the most worrying moment in "Flatline" wasn't in the episode itself, but in a commercial that aired during the BBC America broadcast for a company called Fathead, which makes high quality life-size posters of people that you can put on your wall -- usually athletes, but they can be of anyone. Watching a child attempting to hug the Fathead of his soldier father was, in the light of this episode, incredibly disturbing.)

²⁶⁰ The others are Ian Stuart Black (The Savages and The War Machines), Chris Boucher (The Face of Evil and The Robots of Death), David Fisher (The Stones of Blood and The Androids of Tara), Christopher H. Bidmead (Logopolis and Castrovalva -- although that spans a season break), Pip and Jane Baker (The Trial of a Time Lord Part Fourteen and Time and the Rani -- but that one's a bit of a technicality and spans a season break), Russell T Davies (various), and Steven Moffat (various).

July 11: "Mummy on the Orient Express"

Stuart Manning's poster for "Mummy on the
Orient Express" (from Doctor Who: Exclusive
Mummy on the Orient Express poster revealed)

It initially seems like Clara and the Doctor have made up after the events of "Kill the Moon" -- after all, they're both dressed up and stepping aboard a swanky passenger train travelling through space, but it's quickly clear that this is a "last hurrah" for Clara, before the Doctor leaves and never comes back. And so it's time for a posh soiree through the stars, complete with a killer mummy only the victim can see that gives you exactly 66 seconds to make peace with yourself before it kills you. Y'know, your typical passenger train story.

But then that's one of the great things about Jamie Mathieson's debut Who script -- it takes two separate ideas and puts them together in a way that feels completely natural. There's not really any good reason for a mummy to be stalking people on a space Orient Express, but the two styles merge so well that you never mind. It means that we get a lush setting and a properly scary monster. And make no mistake, the mummy, aka the Foretold, is scary. Visually it's really good, inexorably stalking its victims, shuffling its feet, with old bandages hanging from its emaciated frame, and the conceit that once you see it, that's it, there's nothing you can do, is nicely scary as well. Adding into the mix the fact that only the victim can see it, and so therefore there's nothing anyone can do to help you, is also a good move.

And what's really wonderful about this environment is that the Doctor fits right in. Capaldi seems incredibly at ease moving through the train cars, talking with people (the gag where he opens a cigarette case and offers Professor Moorhouse a jelly baby is lovely) and trying to figure out what's going on. He also gets along really well with Chief Engineer Perkins, who acts as the Doctor's surrogate companion and has a nice line in dry wit. "Passenger manifest, plan of the train and a list of stops for the past six months," he says, presenting the Doctor with a number of documents. "Quick work, Perkins," the Doctor replies. "Maybe too quick." "Yes, sir. I'm obviously the mummy," Perkins says mildly. "Or perhaps I was already looking into this."

But the best moments are when the facade drops and the "computer", Gus, reveals that it's lured a number of experts on board the train to examine the Foretold, so that it can weaponize the technology. The lab scenes show the Doctor being callous and heartless, but because he needs to be in order to stop the Foretold from killing more people. "Tell us what you can see," he tells Moorhouse. "Even the smallest detail might help save the next one." "The next one?" Moorhouse replies. "You mean you can't save me?" "Well, that is implied, isn't it? Yes, this is probably the end for you. But make it count," the Doctor urges Moorhouse. "Details, please." We get a couple deaths like this, with the Doctor being as clinical as possible in order to save more lives, while the Foretold gets to be suitably terrifying as it advances on its victims. (Oh, and the ticking clock in the corner every time the Foretold appears is a nice touch.)

If there's a downside to this episode, it's that Clara ends up being sidelined for most of it -- but that means she gets to spend more time wrestling with her conflicted feelings about the Doctor, which at least confronts that particular story thread. Yes, she was mad at him (and that anger briefly resurfaces here, when she learns that the Doctor was invited aboard (rather than just arriving in the right place by chance) -- "You knew. You knew this was no relaxing break. You knew this was dangerous. ... You see, this. This is why I'm leaving you. This. Because you lied. You lied to me, again. And now you've made me lie. You've made me your accomplice"), but she's finding it increasingly difficult to actually give up travelling with the Doctor -- to the point where she's willing to lie to Danny about it. So it seems we're not done with Clara just yet.

And happily, Mathieson gives us something of a happy ending. "One minute with me and this thing, it would be over!" the Doctor had earlier boasted, and then he gets to make good on his boast, as he takes the next victim's mental worries and implants them in himself, in order to make himself the next victim so that he can stop the Foretold. It's a brave move that allows him to figure out the Foretold's motivation ("You are a soldier, wounded in a forgotten war thousands of years ago") and how to stop it ("We surrender!") before it kills everyone else, and it leads to him saving the lives of everyone still alive on the train (despite Gus's efforts to asphyxiate and then blow up everyone aboard). It's a powerful reminder that, despite the new persona and the lack of empathy on the surface, this is still the same Doctor as ever. (And the shots of the Doctor, framed against the pink sky, are really gorgeous -- kudos to director Paul Wilmshurst and his team.)

It's a properly scary monster placed against a gorgeous backdrop, and it gives us our best version of the twelfth Doctor yet. Not only that, but Mathieson's script is a great balance of serious intent matched with a light touch. All this and a whole score of great actors besides. "Mummy on the Orient Express" is a solid, highly entertaining episode; more like this, please.