One
of Doctor Who's strengths has
always been its ability to cover many different styles. It can be
terrifying one episode, hilarious the next, and serious drama the
next. Sometimes, it's several
of those at once. “The Girl Who Died” by Jamie
Mathieson and Steven Moffat is one of those stories that tries to be
several things at once. On the surface, it's a light-hearted romp,
very much in the vein of last year's “Robot of Sherwood”. It's
set in a historical time period that pays only lip-service to actual
history and throws in some comical
aliens for the Doctor and friends to fight. However, there is also an
underlying more serious edge to the story dealing with the
consequences of difficult decisions, while also mixing in
themes of the power of
storytelling.
Mixing
humour and seriousness is something that Doctor Who
can do well, but unfortunately, it falls a bit flat here. “The Girl
Who Died” is not a bad story. In fact, it's quite fun to watch, and
has some wonderful moments, particularly
towards the end. But the
switches from slapstick goofiness to serious consequences are
somewhat jarring, making the overall episode rather uneven. There's
some greatness here, but it's struggling to escape from a cage of
mediocrity.
Jamie
Mathieson wrote last year's “Mummy on the Orient Express” and
“Flatline”, two of Series 8's best episodes. Not surprisingly,
these stories created high expectations for “The Girl Who
Died”—perhaps too high to actually be met. Nonetheless, there are
reasons to be disappointed in this episode, and
a large part of it comes from the setting and characters.
Although
“The Girl Who Died” is set in a Viking village, these are
ahistorical Vikings, complete with horns on their helmets. The
village and its characters have just enough visual reference to mark
them as
the populist, rather cartoonish version of Vikings, easily
identifiable to the viewing audience, with
little other attention actually paid to the setting or to any form of
historical accuracy. Even though the characters frequently declare
themselves as Vikings, this village has little to distinguish it from
the stock mediaeval British
village seen in numerous movies and television series including
Doctor Who.
Of
course, perfect historical accuracy is an impossibility, and the
episode also doesn't have time to explore the intricacies of Viking
life in detail. A certain amount of glossing over is necessary.
However, there are a number of little things that could be done to
make the setting just a little more authentic, much of that through
the characters. Rather than just name-dropping Odin, why not show a
little bit of Viking religious beliefs? It's also well-known now that
women were warriors as well, so why are there no women in the
returning group of warriors? For
that matter, apart from Clara
and Ashildr (who
is characterised as not fitting in with the girls),
why are there no speaking roles for women at all?
These
are also “squeaky clean” Vikings—the various atrocities that
Viking warriors committed are not merely glossed over; they're not
even acknowledged. This is, of course, because the Vikings in this
story are the good guys. Doctor Who
likes a clear delineation between good and evil, and tends to steer
away from shades of grey, especially in recent years. However, this
results in two-dimensional characters that have plagued the
historical Doctor Who
stories of recent years—characters
like Richard Nixon in “The
Impossible Astronaut”/”Day of the Moon” and
Winston Churchill in “Victory of the Daleks”.
And
it's the
characters that are
the other major problem in
“The Girl Who Died”. With the exception of Ashildr, none of them
have any real development. They're so characterless, we don't even
learn their real names—only
the made-up ones
the Doctor gives them, and
even there, after reviewing the episode multiple times, I still have
difficulty remembering which name goes with which character.
Most of them are meant merely as sources of comedy, yet as I pointed
out last year in my review of “Robot of Sherwood”,
the best comedy is character-based. Without
developed characters, the comedy may evoke a chuckle, but it will be
mostly forgettable.
That
said, the one character who does see development is Ashildr (and
rightly so, since she is the most important character in this story).
She is a bit of an outsider, a dreamer. She likes to create
stories—and the power of stories is a major theme in Steven
Moffat's Doctor Who.
Unfortunately, with the lack
of other strong characters to contrast her with, even she falls a bit
flat. She is played wonderfully well, though, by Maisie Williams
(whose appearance this year was highly publicised and led to many fan
theories about who she would be playing, including Susan).
On
the subject of characterisation, I have to say that I'm finding the
Doctor's characterisation this series surprisingly inconsistent. In
my review of “Under the Lake”,
I commented on how the Doctor is much mellower this season, with more
emphasis on comedy. At the time, I felt it was going well, but I'm no
longer quite so sure. It seems that, in
the attempt to tone the
Doctor down a bit, the writers have
become uncertain
exactly what he should be
like, resulting in a problem similar to the one Clara had in Series 7
(though not to the same extreme). It's hard, at the moment, to say
exactly what's happening, and it may just be a problem in this
episode due to the unevenness of the comedy and drama. We'll have to
wait and see.
Clara
continues to get a couple of token
scenes drawing attention to
her growing Doctor-ness, but otherwise doesn't do a whole lot. After
how well Clara was depicted last series, I'm somewhat disappointed
that this series is mostly pushing her to the sidelines. I keep
hoping we'll see some meatier parts for her in upcoming episodes.
While
I may feel that the setting and characters just don't work very well
in this story, I don't want to make it sound as if there's nothing
good about it. There's actually quite a lot I really like in “The
Girl Who Died” (and it's an
episode I liked more on subsequent viewings).
While the Mire are not the most compelling or frightening alien
species seen in Doctor Who,
they work well for this story. All things considered, they're
actually quite ineffective, which is sort of the point. They make it
by mostly on reputation and beating up on more primitive peoples.
When push comes to shove, they take off and run—which is precisely
the idea behind the theme of stories having power. The Mire are
feared because of the stories told about them, not because they
actually deserve fear.
I
was somewhat saddened to learn that Brian Blessed was originally cast
as the fake Odin, the leader of the Mire, but had to drop out due to
illness. He would have been amazing! Nothing against David
Schofield—he does fine in the part—but this is the type
of role Brian Blessed was born to play.
I
love how the Mire are
defeated. It puts aside the
time paradoxes and just gives us an example of the Doctor being
brilliant and putting together something out of the few things he has
available (we'll ignore the fact that electric eels are not
indigenous to the area and while the Vikings sailed far, I don't
think they sailed quite far enough to bring back electric eels). Yes,
it's over-the-top (the aforementioned eels, for one) and probably not
very scientifically sound, but it's fun! And it's one area where the
comedy in this episode really works. The Mire running in fear from a
sculpture (and a rather poor one at that) is brilliant. It's also a
subtler meta-nod to the power of stories theme. Doctor
Who's budgetary problems have
often given it difficulty with special effects over the years. There
have been many effects that could be kindly referred to as dodgy.
Even the CG dragon in this episode is not all that spectacular
effects wise. Yet despite that, fans have been entranced by the show
for over fifty years. Stories are powerful indeed.
I
am of mixed mind over Ashildr's resurrection, and my final opinion on
it will depend a lot on the next episode, “The Woman Who Lived”.
People die
and come
back to life a lot in Steven Moffat's Doctor Who,
to the point that it's really not that remarkable (though Series 8
did move away from this pattern). Indeed, I've commented many times
before on how it cheapens death and removes consequences. It also
completely removes the threat and tension from a story.
At
the same time, I find the Doctor's decision to resurrect Ashildr not
quite believable, and it ties in with the inconsistent
characterisation of the Doctor I brought up above (I'll ignore, for
now, how incredibly convenient it is that the Mire have this
wonderful medical chip in their armour to begin with; if they have
such an incredible device, why were they so scared of the dragon?).
There are echoes of the Time Lord Victorious from “Waters of Mars”
in the Doctor's declaration that he can do anything he wants and to
hell with whoever is watching. But “Waters of Mars” was quite a
long time ago—especially in the Doctor's life. This moment hasn't
been built up to. It just sort of happens. Just last episode, he rather
callously let O'Donnell die (with only a token attempt to save her)
just to test his theory about the order of deaths. He showed no
rising
regret there, but now it's too much for him. Perhaps it's because he
doesn't expect Ashildr to die and it takes him by surprise.
Nevertheless, the audience needs to see some sort of build up. We
need to see the Doctor affected by the deaths around him before he
just can't take it any more and decides to play god.
Also, the Doctor realising why his current face looks like that of a person he met before (Caecilius in "The Fires of Pompei") doesn't provide much of a motivation here. It's supposed to remind him that he saves people? That's not something the Doctor usually needs reminding of, and it creates other needless questions. Just why did the sixth Doctor decided to look like Commander Maxil, a person who shot him? And what about Frobisher (also played by Peter Capaldi) in Torchwood: Children of Earth. I really don't see the need to explain the reuse of actors (something that happens and most people barely even notice), especially when it's shoehorned in just to motivate the Doctor in a way that he doesn't need motivating so that he'll resurrect a character in order to "save" her, rather than saving her in the first place.
Also, the Doctor realising why his current face looks like that of a person he met before (Caecilius in "The Fires of Pompei") doesn't provide much of a motivation here. It's supposed to remind him that he saves people? That's not something the Doctor usually needs reminding of, and it creates other needless questions. Just why did the sixth Doctor decided to look like Commander Maxil, a person who shot him? And what about Frobisher (also played by Peter Capaldi) in Torchwood: Children of Earth. I really don't see the need to explain the reuse of actors (something that happens and most people barely even notice), especially when it's shoehorned in just to motivate the Doctor in a way that he doesn't need motivating so that he'll resurrect a character in order to "save" her, rather than saving her in the first place.
However,
this time, there actually appear to be consequences to this
latest of the many
resurrections we have seen in Doctor Who.
The Doctor even comments that he may have made a mistake and does his
best to run away again so that he doesn't have to face the
consequences. The final scene, in particular, is truly magnificent.
The time-lapse of the land changing and growing around Ashildr while her
happiness at being alive slowly changes to anger and sadness is
mesmerising and heart-wrenching. Doctor Who
rarely pulls off such emotion in just a character's look, but this
moments succeeds brilliantly and Maisie Williams is absolutely
wonderful in it.
Overall,
“The Girl Who Died” ends much better than it begins (although I
love the Viking warrior breaking the sonic sunglasses at the
beginning—not because I'm not a fan of them, but because it's a
very realistic and honest response to the Doctor's brashness,
something we actually don't often see). Once it gets past introducing
a bunch of forgettable, nameless Vikings, it manages to tell an
effective, moving story. If it had avoided a number of missteps along
the way, it could have been a truly great episode.
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