The
first regeneration story I saw (and remembered seeing) was Tom
Baker’s finale, “Logopolis”. It was an emotional moment, but
not in the way I generally respond to regenerations now. It was not a
sad moment for me, but rather an immensely exciting one. As much as
Tom Baker was the
Doctor to me at the time, I couldn’t wait to see the new Doctor. I
had only recently really gotten into Doctor Who,
and was still learning about its history. And so I didn’t shed any
tears when the fourth Doctor uttered his famous last words, “It’s
the end, but the moment has been prepared for.”
When
Peter Davison’s final story arrived a few years later, my response
was a bit different. I was still excited to see the new Doctor and
looking forward to the regeneration, but for the first time, the
story actually grabbed me emotionally. It was more than just an
exciting adventure, and when the Doctor’s regeneration approached,
I found tears in my eyes. That had never happened to me with Doctor
Who before. Adric’s death had
shocked me, but not upset me. The fifth Doctor’s death, though...
That was powerful and upsetting.
“The
Caves of Androzani” is one of the most highly regarded Doctor
Who stories, and it remains one
of my personal favourites. A great deal of its strength comes from
the fact that it is such an intimate tale. It’s not about the end
of the world or the universe. It’s about a group of complex
characters fighting each other and the Doctor and Peri caught in the
middle. The Doctor dies making the ultimate sacrifice to save just
one person, and somehow that small-scale quality makes the story far
more epic and powerful than the universe-ending regeneration stories
some of the other Doctors have faced.
Of
course, every regeneration story should be different and appropriate
to its particular Doctor. Not every one should be small-scale like
“Caves”, and indeed, not every one is. “The Tenth Planet” has
a threat to the entire world. “Logopolis” has a threat to the
entire universe. More recently, regeneration stories have tended to
go big. “The Parting of the Ways” involves saving the Earth from
the Daleks. “The End of Time” is about saving the Earth from the
Master and the universe from the Time Lords. And now there’s “The
Time of the Doctor”, which is about preventing another Time War and
saving the Doctor and a whole lot more on top of that.
There’s
no doubt that “The Time of the Doctor” pretty much encapsulates
the entirety of Matt Smith’s time as the Doctor and Steven Moffat’s
time as showrunner. It’s big, bombastic, and full of wild and
wonderful ideas. Yet at the same time, it tries to do far too much,
mixing everything together in a kitchen sink effect. There are Daleks
and Cybermen, Sontarans and Weeping Angels, and the return of the
Silence. There’s a brand new character that the Doctor has known
for a long time. We see Clara’s family for the first time. Dangling
plot threads from the last three series are finally tied up in quick
lines of exposition. There’s a surprisingly relatable and
sympathetic Cyberman head. There’s a multi-century siege/war set in
a town called Christmas. There’s Matt Smith cavorting manically
around and acting his socks off. And of course, there’s a
regeneration—which has its own extra revelations to go with it!
This episode has everything and more. And consequently, virtually
nothing actually happens.
Don’t
get me wrong, there are some nice set-pieces here and there in “The
Time of the Doctor”, some individual moments that work
exceptionally well. But unfortunately, the whole is disjointed and
just doesn’t hold up. To be fair, like most Moffat-written
episodes, it is better on subsequent viewings (especially when the
first viewing is interrupted by commercials), but it’s not better
enough to really save it. Besides, it really shouldn’t be necessary
to see something twice in order to like it. Ultimately, this episode
just leaves one feeling unsatisfied, disappointed, and rather bored.
SPOILERS
FOLLOW
“The
Time of the Doctor” opens with a narration about a bell tolling
across the universe and bringing numerous different races to the same
place to investigate it. It sets the scene, but simultaneously
distances the viewer from the action. Narrations can, unfortunately,
have this effect as they create the impression that the viewers are
not experiencing things as they happen. Instead, everything’s
already over and that brings with it a lowering of the stakes. That’s
not to say that narrations can’t be effective, and it’s certainly
not the first time Doctor Who
has made use of narrations. “Army of Ghosts” and “Doomsday”
very effectively use Rose’s narration to create an impending sense
of doom. But in that case, the narration is only used to bookend the
story (and as a recap at the beginning of the second episode).
Throughout the rest of the story, we experience everything with the
characters. If the same were true of “The Time of the Doctor”,
the narration wouldn’t be as much of a problem. But unfortunately,
the narration keeps returning to allow us to skip over periods of
time—and not just short periods, not even weeks or months or years,
but literally centuries.
To
make matters worse, the narration comes from a character we’ve
never met before. From the initial moments of the episode, it’s a
voice we don’t recognize. In “Army of Ghosts”/”Doomsday”,
we know who Rose is and we can relate to her. Here, we’re presented
with someone we know nothing about and can’t yet relate to. Even
once we’ve met Tasha Lem, she remains a character defined almost
entirely by her mystery. She behaves eerily like River Song,
suggesting that maybe she is River in another incarnation—except
there’s no easy way to fit that explanation into the continuity as
we know it. As a result, we’re left with this mystery person
telling us what’s happening. And that just distances us from the
action even more.
Shortly
after “The Time of the Doctor” first aired, one of my followers
on Twitter commented that it was “filmed like a commercial”. I
think the narration ultimately plays a large part in this impression.
Because we skip over incredibly large chunks of time and see very
little of the actual siege, the episode feels more like an extended
preview of a story rather than the story itself. Like a preview, it
concentrates on a few set-pieces to hook the viewer in, but then
jumps to the next one. One almost expects to hear the narrator say,
“The Time of the Doctor. Coming soon to BBC One.”
Exposition
plays another large role. We don’t get to discover events for
ourselves, but instead we are told them. Instead of getting to see
the Doctor discover what the Silents are (genetically manipulated
priests), we just learn that he found that out sometime during the
centuries that we never see. The secret is explained in a few lines
of exposition to Clara. Similarly, the revelations about Madame
Kovarian and the destruction of the TARDIS in Series Five come
through a few lines of exposition, this time from Tasha Lem.
This
is further exacerbated by the fact that the jumps in time mean we
never get to know the town of Christmas or see it develop in any way.
Indeed, for a town at war for centuries, it looks remarkably
unchanged by the end (just before the Doctor’s regeneration energy
levels it, that is) and unaffected by those centuries. We never get
to know any characters there. Only one townsperson even merits a
name—the young boy Barnable. Steven Moffat is very fond of
including children in his stories as a way of pulling at the viewers’
heartstrings. We’re meant to feel for these children simply because
they are children. Yet children are people too, and they should have
personalities. Barnable has nothing identifiable about him other than
his name. And then he’s gone too as the centuries pass. I do like
that the very elderly Doctor asks after Barnable and we briefly meet
a slightly older character who bears a resemblance to the boy.
However, when he tells the Doctor that no, he isn’t Barnable
(because Barnable has presumably been dead for hundreds of years), it
doesn’t create the sadness it intends because we never got to know
Barnable in the first place. His being a child doesn’t change that.
With no characters in Christmas to relate to, it becomes impossible
to care about the town at all. It’s just a place. And that makes
the Doctor’s centuries-long stay so less affecting.
While
it doesn’t introduce many characters in Christmas, “The Time of
the Doctor” does try to introduce quite a few new characters over
the course of the whole story. Most notably it introduces us to
Clara’s family, who serve the role of showing Clara’s
dissatisfaction with her own life and providing her motivation to get
back to the Doctor after he repeatedly ships her back home (also
providing a handy way for her to survive the multiple centuries the
story covers). In fact, Clara’s story here heavily mirrors Rose’s
story in “The Parting of the Ways”, and I’m quite certain it’s
an intentional mirroring. Unfortunately, it doesn’t have nearly the
same effect as Rose’s story. By the time of “The Parting of the
Ways”, the show has spent an entire series developing Rose’s
relationship with her mother and Mickey. It has also developed Rose’s
character and her frustrations with her life. “The Time of the
Doctor” is the first time we’ve had any hint of this in Clara’s
life. Previously, she was a nanny for her friend’s children and her
actual family only appeared briefly in one episode while the Doctor
was travelling through her childhood. Then, in “The Day of the Doctor”,
Clara suddenly became a teacher, but there was no hint of her family
life. Now we meet her family. But we don’t know her relationship
with them. Admittedly, the episode does do a fairly good job of
establishing what the relationship is like (although who exactly is
Linda? her stepmother? aunt? next-door neighbour?), but the lack of
any prior background detracts from the overall effect the story is
trying to establish. In “The Parting of the Ways”, it was the
culmination of a story. In “The Time of the Doctor”, it is both
the introduction and culmination simultaneously. And that just
doesn’t work as well.
Completely
separate to Clara’s family, the story also introduces us to Tasha
Lem, the Mother Superius of the Papal Mainframe. As I said before,
Tasha comes across as a character very similar to River Song—eerily
similar at times. She has the same sort of flirtatious relationship,
and the Doctor refers to her fighting the psychopath inside her all
her life, much like River. She even inexplicably knows how to fly the
TARDIS! Of course, Steven Moffat’s female characters all tend to be
rather similar (especially in their story arcs),
but it’s even more so here. It’s possible that Tasha’s
similarities to River are just a convenient short cut to allow Moffat
to introduce a new character and make her seem familiar to the
audience without having to spend time developing her (time that the
episode just doesn’t have as there’s too much else going on).
It’s also possible that the character was originally supposed to be
River, but had to be changed due to Alex Kingston being unavailable.
Either way, the similarities detract from the overall experience.
Tasha ends up yet another character defined more by the mystery of
who she is than by having an actual fully developed personality.
That
said, Tasha does have the one moment in the story that actually
manages to be downright chilling: the revelation of her death at the
hands (suckers?) of the Daleks. “I died in this room screaming your
name. Oh. I died. It’s funny the things that slip your mind.” For
that brief moment, we get a glimpse of what the Daleks are actually
capable of. We learn that the Daleks have slaughtered everyone on the
Papal Mainframe. In a way, it’s another parallel with “The
Parting of the Ways”, when the Daleks invade the space station and
exterminate everyone there one by one. But in “The Parting of the
Ways”, almost everyone who dies stays dead (Jack being the one
exception, and even that resurrection somewhat cheapened his death at
the time). Here, Tasha overcomes her Dalek conditioning and is
effectively resurrected just like everyone else who dies in Moffat’s
Doctor Who. Even
though Tasha says she can’t hold off the conditioning forever, she
apparently does as she continues to fight on his side for the
remaining centuries of the war. And despite the fact that everyone in
the Mainframe was slaughtered, the Church continues to have readily
available soldiers and Silents to fight with the Doctor. As Tasha
herself goes on to narrate, “Only the Church of the Mainframe
remained in the path of the Daleks. And so those ancient enemies, the
Doctor and the Silence, stood back to back on the fields of
Trenzalore.” I guess they got lots of reinforcements after that
Dalek slaughter. It’s a believable explanation, I suppose, but it
also continues the pattern that death really doesn’t mean anything
on Doctor Who anymore.
I’ve
seen people on-line respond to this criticism of Moffat’s Who
as a call for over-the-top violence and gore. That’s simply not
true. Non-stop death and destruction would be just as bad. I simply
want death to have some meaning. I’m perfectly okay with people
striving against the odds and surviving, but if—IF—they
die, I want them to stay dead. Otherwise, death is meaningless and
there’s no threat at all and no reason to worry or care about the
fate of any of the characters. Yes, some unnamed characters die
off-screen in this story and presumably stay dead, but they’re not
people we know, and their deaths have no effect on the story. There’s
an unending supply of reinforcements to replace them, just like the
unending supply of Daleks. Death remains meaningless.
To
be fair, I actually consider Handles a bit of an exception to this.
Despite just being a robotic Cyberman head (all the organic parts are
gone, the Doctor says), Handles manages to be surprisingly
sympathetic and human. This robot head has a distinct personality and
when it finally succumbs to age and expires, the scene is actually
somewhat sad. Oddly enough, this is the one moment where
“resurrecting” the character would make sense as the Doctor says
he just hasn’t been able to get the parts to do an effective
repair, yet the Doctor seems to have forgotten that he now has the
TARDIS back. Couldn’t he find parts in there? Still, Handles’
death adds a poignancy to the story lacking from the other
characters.
Overall
though, the lack of meaning for death—the lack of consequence—is
particularly unfortunate in this episode as this is a regeneration
story. It is a fact that regeneration is, ultimately, a way for the
show’s main character to cheat death. It arose out of a need to
replace William Hartnell and keep the show going, and so the Doctor
was given a way to resurrect himself with a further spin that his
entire body and personality changes. It’s a way to renew and
reinvigorate the show itself, not just the character. I may sound a
bit hypocritical when I say that I think regeneration is good for the
show. After all, I’ve just criticised the show for constantly
resurrecting the dead. Why should the Doctor get a pass with
regeneration?
Well,
I don’t actually think that resurrection should never
occur. It just shouldn’t
happen all the time. Indeed, it should be very rare. And when it does
happen, it needs to have a real effect on the character. When the
Doctor regenerates, he becomes an entirely new person. In the case of
Captain Jack, Torchwood
goes on to explore the effects coming back to life actually have on
him, and how those effects change him as a person. But both the
Doctor and Captain Jack remain exceptions to the rule. As the Doctor
himself says in this episode, don’t try to make him follow the
rules. But not everyone should be breaking the rules.
Yet
even so, the Doctor does more than just regenerate in “The Time of
the Doctor”. For even regeneration was eventually given a
limit—twelve times and then it’s up. Here, we rather suddenly
learn that the Doctor has used up all twelve (through some contrived
reasoning) already and can’t regenerate anymore. The final end has
come for even the Doctor. Except it hasn’t. The Doctor’s
resurrections are themselves resurrected by the Time Lords, who give
him a whole new set of regenerations, beginning the cycle anew.
This
was inevitable when you think about it. For the show to go on, the
Doctor has to survive past his last incarnation. Perhaps the limit of
twelve itself was a mistake, although to be fair, at the time it was
created, no one ever expected the show to last long enough to
actually use them all up. However, this was the worst time for that
limit to be reached. When the Doctor is surrounded by people
constantly coming back to life (in this story alone, we’ve already
had Tasha Lem), there’s no longer anything special about the Doctor
coming back. But more than that, it didn’t have to happen now
anyway. The Doctor has only run out of regenerations because Steven
Moffat decided to retroactively add some previous regenerations. Just
before “The Time of the Doctor” aired, I posted an article talking about this, so
I won’t go through it all again here, but suffice it to say, I
think an opportunity has been missed to actually do something with
the Doctor’s final incarnation, rather than tacking it on out of
the blue in this story.
That
said, there are things about this regeneration that I do like. In the
old series, the Doctor’s regenerations looked different each time.
Since the new series started, there’s been a uniformity to the
regenerations, yet this time, there’s just enough difference to
keep it similar to the new series pattern but also bring back the
idea that regenerations aren’t always the same. I’m not at all
fond of the Doctor blowing up the Daleks with regeneration energy.
It’s too much of a magic wand escape, and if regeneration energy is
really so powerful, why didn’t the Time Lords use it to wipe out
the Daleks in the Time War? It could be that it’s only this
powerful when it’s a new set of regenerations, but then, they could
have given lots of Time Lords new sets of regenerations to achieve
it. It also stretches belief that, despite the energy blowing up
scores of spaceships and levelling the entire town, the townsfolk are
all able to survive by hiding in the church. I’m reminded of
Indiana Jones surviving a nuclear explosion by hiding in a fridge in
Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull.
It’s not quite at the same level, I suppose, but it’s similar. I
would have much preferred to have seen the Doctor defeat the Daleks
through some other means (he’s had centuries to come up with
something clever after all, and it also defies belief that he hasn’t)
and then die of old age afterwards.
Because
that part of the regeneration is brilliant. While trying to cover
centuries of events in one 60-minute episode doesn’t really work
very well, the idea that the youngest-ever Doctor is the one who dies
of old age is perfect. More than that, everything that happens after
the big explosion is the best part of the episode (if you ignore the
weird reset, but that also happened in “The End of Time” and its
repetition here actually helps retroactively justify that moment).
There’s real emotion in this scene, and the Doctor’s final speech
is brilliant:
We all change. When you think about it, we’re all different people, all through our lives, and that’s okay. That’s good. You gotta keep moving, so long as you remember all the people that you used to be. I will not forget one line of this. Not one day. I swear. I will always remember when the Doctor was me.
It
makes a particularly nice contrast to the Doctor’s last
regeneration. While David Tennant’s Doctor fought his regeneration
and didn’t want to go, Matt Smith’s is at peace with it. He
accepts the end, and that makes it all the more beautiful.
While
I was never a fan of Amy, the Doctor hallucinating her at this moment
is fitting and adds closure to Matt Smith’s time as the Doctor
(even if it does sideline Clara a little). The Doctor removing his
bow tie is both the icing on the cake and the moment that ought to
open the tear ducts. If the rest of the episode built to this moment
better, if we got to fully experience the Doctor and Clara’s
journey to this moment, then this would be perhaps the most
heart-wrenching scene Steven Moffat has ever written and perhaps one
of the most heart-wrenching on Doctor Who,
period. I actually find that watching this scene by itself,
completely separate from the rest of the episode, achieves this
effect. There are actually tears in my eyes. Unfortunately, when I
watch it at the end of the entire episode, I’m just too distanced
from everything to care enough.
There
are a number of other nice moments throughout the episode as
well—set-pieces that work well on their own. There’s the
aforementioned death of Handles and the chilling revelation of
Tasha’s death. Clara helping the elderly Doctor to pull a cracker
is also a very touching moment. I also really like the Doctor’s
comments about dying of boredom before the Daleks actually get around
to shooting him.
On
the other hand, there are also numerous moments that just fail to
work entirely. Because the story feels the need for a cameo
appearance by just about everything, none of the various recurring
monsters are used to good effect. The Daleks have one fleeting moment
when they appear to have taken full control of the Papal Mainframe
just before Tasha manages to overcome their control and effectively
resurrects herself. Their rediscovering who the Doctor is again also
completely undermines their forgetting him in their last appearance,
and further shows how little consequence there is in Doctor
Who anymore. The wooden Cyberman
is a clever idea, but like so much else, it’s just there and then
gone. The Sontarans are used for nothing more than comic relief. I
had more or less resigned myself to Strax (who thankfully doesn’t
appear in this episode) being nothing more than a comic relief
character, but I had hoped that when other Sontarans actually showed
up again, they wouldn’t be relegated to that role, but alas, that
is exactly what has happened.
While
“The Time of the Doctor” does attempt to tie up numerous loose
ends from the last few years, it also opens up a number of other
questions and possible continuity errors. In “The Day of the
Doctor”, the Time Lords were frozen in a single moment of time, so
how exactly are they able to send and receive messages? Indeed,
they’re apparently able to come out whenever they want, just so
long as the Doctor tells them it’s okay? The Time Lord general in
“The Day of the Doctor” was horrified at the prospect of being
frozen because they’d be unable to do anything. He only relented
because he knew that Gallifrey was doomed otherwise. Yet now the Time
Lords can essentially come and go as they please? And what happened
to just how nasty the Time Lords became? “The Day of the Doctor”
mostly ignored that fact (despite “The Night of the Doctor”
right before it reinforcing it), but at least it gave it lip service
with the comment that the High Council had its own plans. Yet here,
the Doctor says that when the Time Lords come back, they’ll come in
peace. Really? That’s a rather sudden change of heart on their
part, and how exactly does the Doctor know they’ve had this change
of heart? Their message includes only two words. Speaking of the
message, why send it all across time and space rather than straight
to the TARDIS?
Finally,
there are a number of little, problematic moments of the style that
have plagued Steven Moffat’s time as showrunner—those little
moments of sexism that just leave me cringing: the Doctor kissing
another woman without her permission, the Doctor slapping Clara’s
butt, the Doctor effectively flashing Clara’s family. I don’t
like seeing the Doctor behave this way—not and get away with it.
Even when he’s called out on it, he doesn’t apologize, and the
offended party—Clara or Tasha—continue on as if nothing has
happened.
So,
while “The Time of the Doctor” has some good, even brilliant
moments, including a beautiful regeneration scene, as a whole, it
just doesn’t hang together. It’s tedious and it’s dull. We’re
told about things happening via a narrator, but see almost none of
it. Centuries pass in a town called Christmas where nothing ever
changes. A war is going on, but the buildings all stand undamaged.
Centuries of stalemate pass for no apparent reason. The Daleks, who
can blow up planets, don’t bother to do that. The Doctor, who is
always coming up with brilliant ideas to save the day, can’t come
up with one over centuries, yet there’s no clear reason why. Matt
Smith gives an absolutely astounding performance, but it’s not
enough to save a script that basically goes nowhere until it’s
suddenly there at the end.
As
I’ve thought about “The Time of the Doctor” over the last few
days, my mind has constantly gone back to “The Caves of Androzani”.
“The Time of the Doctor” should not have been that earlier story.
As I said before, every regeneration story needs to be its own thing.
But “The Time of the Doctor” tries to do far too much, and ends
up doing so little as a result. Doctor Who
has become far too big and too caught up in itself. But Doctor
Who is also constantly changing.
So it’s time for another change. It’s time to go small again.
Here’s hoping that Peter Capaldi’s period will see that happen!
This largely mirrors alot of my views. It had a very 'Moffet' tone but ended in a way that felt... different? It all felt rushed and confused and like a five-year old was telling a story connected by endless 'and then....'. "and then the doctor find out the planet is Trenzelore and than the Severed Cyberman Head tells him it's Galifrey and than the Daleks attack the Papal Mainframe and than..." etc. It lacked... coherence.
ReplyDeleteThe actual end of the Doctor was kind of neat.... to a point. The whole thing with the crack and the Time-lords was confusing, and I can only imagine how confusing it was to people who aren't versed in Doctor Who lore. I mean to them we just suddenly learn there is a regeneration limit and than magic happens and there isn't... But the aged Doctor was quite nice. Though I felt it would be more poignant for either him to defeat the Dalek's using some plan he's been building for centuries(given that narrative thrust in the 50th anniversary special it's where I thought it was going) or die, get new regenerations and have the new Doctor destroy the Daleks because his fresh perspective lets him or something. Even after the episode I'm unclear on why the Doctor doesn't just bring the time-lords through. I mean the Dalek's are already out there, what effect is bringing the time-lords back suppose to be having?
The ending just made me keep yelling 'Too Late!' at the Screen. Too Late to try and make Clara a complex character. Too litttle, far too late to make me sad that they suddenly remember his first episode and the contrast between the little girl Amy was and the woman she became. I mean if that had been a central Narrative theme of Amy's character... a... heaven forbid 'Arc', than It would have felt poignant. I'm sure for those to whom 11 was 'their' Doctor is probably did so I'm willing to grant I have a little curmudgeon going on there. Though that bit all felt... it felt like you said, like it should have been a great and perfect cap to some-ones time as the Doctor and I wanted to see the Stories with that Doctor that warranted this level of emotion.
That and the sudden 'snap' to the new Doctor was awesome. It was great to see them 'mix it up' a bit and that suddenness was beautifully Jarring. It made me interested for the next season to see the evolution of this Doctor(presumably into 'angry eyebrows' that we got in the 50th).
I wrote a comment, but it proved too long for the comment form to accept, so I published it on my own blog instead.
ReplyDeletehttp://stevenbritton.com/2013/12/30/the-time-of-the-doctor-episode-review/
Clara. Who is Clara? She is a zero character. Zero motivation, zero ability, zero personality. Zero. She didn't even need to be in the episode in the first place. There was no need. Going back and forth in the Tardis, crying a little bit... anybody could have done it. I wish she never came up in the show. At least Amy had minimum agency and personality traits.
ReplyDeleteI hated this episode so much, it was a huge disappointment. Okay, the final scene was beautiful and Matt Smith was great... but the rest was a piece of rubish. Too many holes and as you said, no losses. Suddenly the Time Lords are very nice and kind people who just happend to hand away some regenerations...
Peter Capaldi could have been the last one. Because, as you said, if the Doctor had known all along he could actually die this time, then all his actions would have been different. When you know you're dying it's different. He could be a better or a worse man because of that, but he would be different. That's for sure.
And how the hell Tasha knew how to pilot the Tardis? That was ridiculous.
Yeah, I agree. Clara is a nobody. She's just there to do whatever the plot requires of her at the moment. She doesn't behave like a real person at all.
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