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Essay

Face The Raven: You’ve Already Lost

Disguised as a sci-fi murder mystery, “Face The Raven” is about betrayal, addiction, and the death of Clara Oswald. Possibly the best showing of the twelfth Doctor.

How would time with the Doctor transform an Earthly child? While endangering his companions enough to land him in court at least twice (The War Games, The Trial of a Time Lord), the Doctor somehow empowered them. Most became braver (Barbara Wright and Ian Chesterton, Rose Tyler,) smarter (Leela,) more open-minded (Liz Shaw,) more compassionate (Vislor Turlough,) or more focused (Martha Jones). Others didn’t need transforming (Sarah Jane Smith, Romana, Ace.) In spite of having their lives threatened enough to qualify for Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, most got away in good shape (perhaps there’s a support group). That’s an amazing track record.

Since not even Hank Aaron batted a thousand, other companions weren’t so lucky. Adric was killed, Donna Noble lost her memory, and Clara became a danger addict. Either she absorbed the Doctor’s worst personality traits by sheer osmosis, or her TARDIS time unlocked repressed urges (like Tegan in Kinda). Bonnie the Zygon felt pretty comfortable in Clara’s head in “Invasion of the Zygons.”

The first part of “Face the Raven” is formulaic at best: the Doctor is shown something weird, tracks down clues with new Who tech, and uses flimsy logic to find the alien refugee camp. It must be nice to write yourself out of trouble by dropping entirely new races and technology into the middle of the story. Actual whodunnits challenge us to solve the mystery before the hero does. Doctor Whodunnits are just stories to watch. The most compelling part is the second-half character journeys of Mayor Me, Clara, and the Doctor:

Mayor Me

Her Waterloo station reply is snide and vague. The original was built in 1848, the modern one in 1922.

Let’s take Me at her word, that some unnamed enemy is forcing her to give up the Doctor. Her solution is a flimsy mess, as Clara pointed out by saying “we barely got in.” Her plan is 100% reliant on the Doctor finding the refugee camp; if he didn’t, Rigsy would have died for nothing. Her plan is also overly elaborate. She should have summoned the Doctor directly, knocked him out, then slapped the teleport bracelet on him. Next season could be The Clara and Rigsy Adventures. Infinite lifespan and finite memory turned her into something far worse than the Mire she faced as Ashildr in “The Girl Who Died.” Me betrayed a friend (or at least an ally in protecting Earth). There’s no evidence that she even tried to resist. Perhaps she’s still angry about being made immortal without consent.

Please, no resistance. You’ve already lost.

Mayor Me

In this context, her apparent shock about Clara’s death is as unconvincing as everything else she’s said in this story. She showed no compassion for sicking the Quantum Shade/Raven on the old man, or presumably on anyone else in 100+ years. At best, she accepted the Raven as a public safety tax. The sudden concern for Clara is an awkward plot device to enhance Clara’s death scene.

With the exception of Clara compassion, Maisie Williams’ performance is as flat as Chuck Norris’. Her facial expression, vocal inflections and body language are exactly the same throughout the story. According to Kevin Smith and Spike Lee, directors are usually to blame when great actors look bad. Others say it’s the sole responsibility of the actor. Williams looks like like a hostage delivering her lines, hoping it’ll all work out in the end.

A better performance would have gone a long way toward understaing the refugee camp’s tense political situation; it reminds me of El Rey, the criminal village in Jim Thompson’s The Getaway. Thompson based it on his personal concept of Hell:

Doc and Carol McCoys’ half-million dollar fortune is worth relatively little with the extortionate cost of living. Their future looks bleak; nobody lives long in El Rey. Running out of money means getting banished to a village of cannibals. They’re finally inseparable, in Hell.

Casimir Harlow, reviewing “The Getaway” (1972 film) for AV Forums

Like El Rey, Mayor Me’s refugee camp is a tense détente among many enemies. The most violent space thugs in the Whoniverse have to surpress their instincts just to survive there. This agreement is more fragile than the Zygon truce built on a pair of empty Osgood Boxes.

Clara Oswald

Clara Oswald wasn’t written very well for adults until now. From her debut in “Asylum of the Daleks” through last season’s “Kill the Moon,” she was Moffat’s second Manic Pixie Dream Girl. “I always know” from “The Day of the Doctor” was especially excruciating. She wasn’t a credible teacher.

That begins to change, starting with “Mummy on the Orient Express.” Clara seems to have written off every non-Doctor element out of her life. She’s not even bothering to hide it anymore. Even the death of her boyfriend isn’t mentioned. From Clara’s point of view, the shocked reactions from loved ones must seem silly and over protective. Those feelings, like her ordinary human life, are meaningless. She’s as cut off from these emotions as Mayor Me is from Ashildr.

This is visible in her reaction to almost falling out of the TARDIS, hundreds of feet over London. It looked physically impossible, except for two fast-motion quick shots that seem like last-minute film edits. The first shows her left foot hooked around the left door (that must’ve been hooked open like a screen door), and the second shows her right thigh pressed against the closed right door. Clara’s leg split probably couldn’t be shown in a single shot without looking like she was showing off for Jane Austin.

Clara’s plan to save Rigsy was equally reckless, but not stupid as the Doctor and Mayor Me imply. She wasn’t aware of the Quantum Shade/Rigsy contract, so how could she violate it? Since Clara’s intervention caused the Quantum Shade account to be one death short, couldn’t the balance be rolled into the next death? That could surely be worked out in a refugee camp of Cybermen, Sontorans and Daleks. The Mayor’s negotiation skills aren’t very impressive.

Why? Why shouldn’t I be so reckless? You’re reckless all the bloody time. Why can’t I be like you?

Clara Oswald

That said, Clara’s death speech is fantastic. She’s finally allowed to act like an adult. Her explanation about why she took crazy risks seems like a lazy writer hack, but successfully bridges into an acceptance of death. In an unusual moment of clarity, Clara owns up to her actions. She’s more concerned with what she leaves behind. Her lectures about Rigsy’s guilt and the Doctor’s rage are compelling and selfless. With “we’re both just going to have to be brave,” Clara might have reminded the Doctor of his bravery speech for Codal in Planet of the Daleks. Sarah Dollard‘s script gives her insight, introspection and courage I wish she’d had since her debut in “The Bells of Saint John.”

Doctor Who under Steven Moffat has (perhaps not unfairly) been accused of killing off characters for dramatic effect only to swiftly resurrect them for when the script demands a fuzzy feeling deep inside.

Jon Cooper, reviewing “Face The Raven” for The Independent

The Doctor

This episode begins with the Doctor and Clara laughing about some danger they just escaped. Since last season’s “Mummy on the Orient Express” and “Flatline,” Clara transformed from perky fanboy fantasy to action addict. In 2,000 years of renegade time travel, he’s never seen this reaction. Usually they leave. The Doctor is genuinely surprised and feels guilty, but is at a loss for how to correct this “onging problem.”

The Doctor’s guilt and helplessness reminds me a moment in The Autobiography of Malcolm X. Perhaps it’s on his reading list for understanding humans, as well as his own rebellion against the Time Lords. When recalling his criminal years as Malcolm Little, he expressed remorse about his wholesome girlfriend, Laura, becoming a herion addict. In reality, like Clara, she made her own choices.

It’s a very small universe when I’m angry with you.

The Doctor

Out of the three leads, the Doctor’s journey is the least compelling. Moffat’s Doctor is still the king of empty threats, bragging about his stats while being quite helpless. Perhaps he’s using this as a bluff, like Will Munny at the end of “Unforgiven.” But there’s nothing in the script or performance to distinguish this from similar Kirk-like bragging under Moffat’s reign. Does Moffat’s Doctor berate men this way?

In Summary

The first half of “Face The Raven” is an enertaining, but formulaic sci-fi murder mystery. Everything unique and interestsing about it is the character journeys of Mayor Me, Clara, and the Doctor. The major themes are betrayal, addiction, and the death of Clara Oswald. This is possibly the best showing of the twelfth Doctor.

TARDIS Bits

Late is better than not at all. Shut up.

  • The Doctor loves scaring Rigsy.
  • Nice seeing Retcon, the sleaziest drug in the Whoniverse.
  • It’s always weird seeing the TARDIS fly.
  • Why did Mayor Me take her scarf off so cinematically? She looked like Morris Day handing something to Jerome.
  • On her way out, Clara should’ve beat the hell out of Mayor Me. It’s not like she had anything to lose. What happened to slap-happy Clara?
  • I’m proud of myself for not making one Joe Flacco reference.
Categories
Essay

Heaven Sent: Doctor Whodini, The Man Who Walked Through Walls

“Heaven Sent” is an entertaining, experimental, and well constructed one-man show. Sometimes abstract metaphor tells a better story than literal expression.

Picking right up from “Face The Raven,” the Doctor continues his typically Moffat macho threats. This Kirk-like bragging, which started at the end of Matt Smith’s first episode “The Eleventh Hour,” is directly opposed to the show’s history. The Doctor brags about his intellect, not his CV. In addition to his cleverness, what makes the show unique is his reliance on luck, sloppy opposition and the bravery of his companions. In “Heaven Sent,” however, Steven Moffat adds nuance to his flawed interpretation. The Doctor’s opening rant is reminiscent of Will Munny scaring his unseen enemies at the end of Unforgiven. In both instances, the threats expose our protagonist’s weakness.

Compared to past incarnations, Twelve is way too emotionally dependent on Clara Oswald. Using her voice as beyond-the-grave counsel, however, is a stroke of genius. Moffat used the same device with the deceased Danny Pink talking to Clara in “Last Christmas.” In both instances, the “Fight Club Light” imaginary friend advances the plot while revealing something about the protagonist’s state of mind. These internal conversations might come from a need to stay connected to certain people long after they’re gone. We manipulate their words into what we think we need to hear at the time. At times of crisis or exhaustion, these old souls still get to me. I wish I could tell them when they were right, or wrong. We need to know they still care.

It’s also a terrific alternative to Peter Capaldi talking to us/himself for an hour. When Elisabeth Sladen (Sarah Jane Smith) left, Tom Baker said the Doctor didn’t need a companion. Not having a story like “Heaven Sent,” producer Philip Hinchcliffe placated him with The Deadly Assassin. After watching Tom talk to the camera, he gave the show Leela in the very next serial.

The Prisoner

The Doctor’s struggle is strikingly similar to Number Six’s escape attempts from the Village in The Prisoner (and Clint Eastwood in Escape from Alcatraz.) Ingenuity and past escapes are meaningless against this visually open prison. The trap is an elaborate, long-term interrogation from an unseen enemy. Lacking the desired information, the warden uses Franz Kafka torture techniques to get the confession. It’s Time Lord waterboarding.

Doc's not the first. Or was he?
Doc’s not the first. Or was he?

Two-Fisted Time Lord

On first viewing, the visual of a bare hand punching through 20 feet of something “400 times harder than diamond” disabled my suspension of disbelief. Why didn’t the Doctor’s hand break? The second viewing changed my mind; his escape is a hybrid of physicality and psychology. He needed both to get out. Like water on stone, the Doctor became erosion.

Rather than explaining how this might be physically possible, I prefer to think the Azbantium barrier was a multi-dimensional image, similar to the program back doors in The Matrix Reloaded. That would explain how technology designed to trap an average Time Lord wouldn’t work on the most iron-willed Gallifreyan since Rassilon. It would also explain why his punching hand was bloody in prison, but fully healed on Gallifrey.

“How many seconds in eternity?” just adds noise to what’s already established with acting, plot and direction. Moffat wants the picture and a thousand words.

Most of “Heaven Sent” is the best one-set character exploration of the Doctor since William Hartnell-era’s “The Edge of Destruction.” Seeing him get roughed up is an added bonus for those who think the modern-era victories are a bit too neat and wholesome. American director Rachel Talalay (last season’s “Dark Water“/”Death in Heaven“) visualizes this bruised and bloody story with solid pacing, cinematography and wit.

Once that confession dial hit the dirt, however, this innovative character study turned into normal Doctor Who story: a cute kid in the desert for no reason, a domed city matte painting, and a vague Doctor threat. This, and Moffat bragging about The Doctor’s return to Gallifrey “getting a bit Clint Eastwood,” doesn’t bode well for next week’s season finale “Hell Bent.”

TARDIS Bits

I had my own confession dial to escape from this month; it’s called “work.” Shut up.

  • How did Mayor Me get the confession dial to Gallifrey? Isn’t it still in that pocket universe from “Day of the Doctor?”
  • Finding a second set of clothes by the fire is very much like 2001: A Space Odyssey.
  • In last year’s “The Caretaker,” Clara followed her own “I can’t keep doing this” moment with “Yes, I can, I can do it, of course I can do it. I’ve got it all under control.”
  • The garden looks like the TARDIS Cloister room in Logopolis,” the last serial with Tom Baker as the Doctor. Entropy and decay were that season’s major themes.
  • The Veil’s flies reminded me of John Waters’ Serial Mom.
  • Why didn’t he use the shovel against the diamond wall? And why did he only use one fist?
  • “Bird” meant something completely different to me; Clint Eastwood and I would have tried to find Charlie Parker.
  • The confession dial is wickedly powerful. Only a Time Lord device could interrogate with your own memories.
  • How could the Time Lords, designers of confession dial, not realize he’d “take forever to die?”
Categories
Essay

The Zygon Invasion: Error of the Zygons

More than just nostalgia, “The Zygon Invasion” is a study of contrasts of modern and classic era Who. It follows Terror of the Zygons much better than “Day of the Doctor.”

Part of the show’s longevity is its ability to express its premise with different types of stories. Most of new Who stories fall into “soft” escapist space fantasy; the primary emphasis is action, humor, and romance. My preference is “hard” science fiction that speculates technology’s effect onour human condition. Rather than escape from reality, these stories mercilessly embrace political corruption, class warfare, race and gender roles, crime, violence, and more. Examples of classic Who stories include “The War Machines,” “The Enemy of the World,” “Inferno,” “The Robots of Death,” and “The Caves of Androzani.”

Right off the bat, Peter Harness rips the politically flimsy human/Zygon detente in “The Day of the Doctor.” For a sci-fi/fantasy show, this is as topical as Three Days of the Condor. It explores the consequences of allowing millions of the shape-shifting aliens to secretly settle among us. The tension between the “off the boaters” and younger Zygons is consistent with children of Jewish and Irish immigrants who saw a big difference between the American Dream and ghetto reality of the early 1900s. “The Zygon Invasion” covers the same human/alien immigrant theme of the 1980s show Alien Nation (without the harsher social indictment of District 9.)

The focus on real world events to tell a hard science fiction story is a welcome change from new Who‘s tear-jerking fairy tales. In execution, however, that realism is undermined by gaping plot holes and genre convention. The Zygon’s year-long campaign to neutralize UNIT seems to only affect the troops; technicians, administrators and managers are unaccounted for.

When compared to modern audience media access, new Who‘s politics—especially UNIT—are under written. Moffat, and previous show runner Russell T. Davies, gave nods to diversity by casting all women in authority positions. This seems progressive until the Doctor berates them like an angry, old, white man. The tenth Doctor deposes Harriet Jones, the democratically elected Prime Minister, in “The Christmas Invasion.” Here and in “Day of the Doctor,” Kate Stewart simply isn’t allowed to act on her own opinions. This approach certainly wouldn’t haveworked on the Brig. Part of what made “The Sontaran Stratagem” great was Colonel Mace using the Doctor as a scientific advisor, then beating the Sontarans with his own solution.

The wasted potential of Kate Stewart is disappointing. Showing her make tough decisions in chaotic situations would go a long way to defining her character. Classic Who usually got this part right; Brigadier Alistair Gordon Lethbridge-Stewart always had someone to answer to, not enough resources, and wasin a constant love/hate relationship with the Doctor. In contrast, Kate doesn’t seem to have much character beyond speeches. And why the hell did she wear zebra-striped pumps? That’s more improbable than hunting for Zygons by herself in Mexico.

Dirty Harry
Dirty Harry

How did I miss that Doctor Harry Sullivan created Zee-67, the Zygon-killing nerve gas? He certainly looked angry enough to do it at the end of Terror of the Zygons. Either following orders or his own initiative to protect Earth without the Doctor, the Brigadier would have authorized UNIT to experiment on captured aliens.

Mundane realism got displaced by sci-fi adventure, but there’s plenty of room for both.

Sandeep, the lost boy in the hallway, is an example of new Who writing laziness. He doesn’t look frightened, sad, angry, or worried. He’s just an actor reading lines. If he was a Zygon participating in the trap to get Clara, his Zygon acting coach would be embarassed. Basing this scene on actual child behavior would not have ruined the episode. Like most new Who kids, however, he’s an adorable little device for Clara to look compassionate and get in the apartment.

Jenna as Clara as Bonnie
Jenna as Clara as Bonnie

After watching a second time, there are clues to Clara being a Zygon after the apartment scene. The Doctor and Jac look horrified by the execution of the Zygon High Command; Clara looks bored. Wanting to “swing by home and grab a couple of things” seemed odd even to Jac. In the elevator, her hand position is way too deliberate. Jenna Coleman turns in the best evil twin performance since Patrick Troughton in “Enemy of the World.” These behaviors, however, would have been more jarring if the real Clara were written better. The Doctor had no trouble spotting imposters for Martha (“Sontaran Stratagem”) and Amy (“The Almost People”).

When did the Doctor become an expert on political revolutions? He normally takes off from a battle, usually surrounded by destruction and bodies, leaving reconstruction to others. The Doctor’s aftermaths usually look like Team America: World Police. Whenever asked to stay, the Doctor runs to that TARDIS so fast his feet kicks his own behind. His constant running is a theme in the classic and modern eras…and even this season. Perhaps 2,000 years of conflict have given him “back seat driver” ideals. “…radicalize the lot. That’s exactly what the splinter group wants” is an accurate assessment, but should have been said by Jac.

Twelve is still trying to resolve Three’s losses with Silurians, who were killed by UNIT in Doctor Who and The Silurians. Three called it murder, but the plot was logistically complicated. The Brig couldn’t see that the Doctor’s solution didn’t work, and the last Silurian was about to revive the others to launch a full-scale attack on humans. That situation was closer to Japan not surrendering until getting bombed. The Doctor who said “Sometimes the only choices you have are bad ones. But you still have to choose” in “Mummy on the Orient Express” would understand this.

How did the Zygons extend the elevator shaft below the apartment building basement? They don’t have TARDIS-like transcendental dimension technology, so this extension would be 100% physical. It would take months, be loud, and shake the building. Perhaps there were enough militant Zygonsto infiltrate local government, disguising the task as replacing water and sewage pipes.

In Summary

“The Zygon Invasion” was entertaining, thoughtful and ambitious. The cinematography was outstanding, especially the outdoor Mexico scene and Zygon interiors. Considering the padding needed to get to the cliffhanger, director Daniel Nettheim paced the story he had extremely well. He certainly made the most of Jenna Coleman, who must’ve channeled her Christina Ricci as Wednesday Adams. Her portrayal of feminine evil is more effective and less exaggerated than Michelle Gomez as Missy.

A more realistic setting would have made it even better, pushing the Doctor into ethical conflict. How would he react to his advice being ignored, or to the possibility of being wrong?

TARDIS Bits

Since this is a week late, I obviously ran out of time. Shut up.

  • Why do the letters of USA have long pauses between them in the typewritten intro?
  • The family trick doesn’t make sense. It shouldn’t’ve worked. Hitchley’s “mother” deliberately evaded his questions. Benton would have fired.
  • The Doctor still preaches peace, while benefitting from guns and bloodshed.
  • Finding Osgood was too well timed. So is the bombing. How the hell did Osgood and the Doctor survive but the Zygon get killed?
  • The Zygons evolving their powersis fantastic.
  • “My name is, well, you can call me the Doctor” perfectly exposes his hypocrisy.
  • Did evil Clara deliberately reveal the real Clara’s pod? She looks sadistically gleeful at the deaths.
  • Why is evil Clara called “Bonnie?”
Categories
Essay

Peter Davison, Unlikely Hero

After playing the Fifth Doctor for three years, Peter Davison relinquished the celery to revive his career. Interviewed in Boston by Starlog Magazine, 1988.

The itinerary to Peter Davison’s recent United States WhoCon Tour reads more like it belongs to a rock star rather than a onetime Doctor Who. Though hardly the equivalent of a Bruce Springsteen tour, it was rigorous and exhausting for Davison just the same. However, Davison’s good looks and keen blue eyes reveal nothing — including the fact that he had just arrived in Boston, and hadn’t slept for nearly 48 hours. Davison, 35, has been acting professionally — and consistently — since he left drama school in 1972, primarily in the television medium. His track record in Britain clearly establishes him as a “hot property.” And now, with his more recent TV credits to add, establishing an equally successful career in America next should be a snap. Davison however, is quick to disagree. “I learned quite early on when I went around to see casting directors, which I did in Hollywood in 1982 after [the British series] All Creatures Great and Small was really taking off over here,” he recalls. “What I discovered was that being on a program in Britain which airs on PBS in the United States means nothing at all in terms of your employment chances over here. People are not at all impressed. The only thing they’re really impressed by is a film. If you can go to Hollywood and say, ‘I’m in this British film,’ then that’s a whole other world. But to say, ‘I’m now appearing on one of your stations, Los Angeles PBS,’ they’ll respond [in an American accent]: ‘So what?’ They may even watch it and like it, but they’ll still say, ‘So what?’ It’s true.

“This is what I was told by several people. Although they might like the program, my value over here, my being a draw because I was in Doctor Who or All Creatures — it was zilch! It was no draw at all. So, I was in no better or worse position than any other actor coming over from Britain who maybe wasn’t known at all— which was a rude awakening.”

“English actors try to be macho sometimes and pretend they’re gun-toting cops, but I don’t think we can do it,” Davison admits. That’s probably why Earthshock was the only time the Doctor used a blaster.

Although he has a tough time proving it to fans, Davison admits, “Really and truly, I’m not at all famous in America.”

Even though this is the case, it still matters to Davison that the British programs that he has been in receive American airings. “It matters a great deal,” he smiles. “I don’t know that it helps my career very much— although I did get a part in Magnum, P.I. because of All Creatures. So, yes, that did help; but had the program been successful only in Britain, it’s quite possible that I still would have gone up for the Magnum part because they came over to Britain to set up their episode. But they knew and liked All Creatures and they thought it would be nice to have me on Magnum. So, it does matter to me with that one exception…”

No More Rehearsing

Being so ensconced in “the British way” of television production, Davison experienced an uneasy transition by doing Magnum, P.I. the American way. “The one thing that really shook me was that we did not rehearse!” he announces. “In Britain, there is a definite tradition of rehearsing a part. On Magnum, we would just stand there and go through the scene once, talk through it once, and they would say: ‘OK, that’s fine, you can go sit in your caravan now.’ Our stand-ins would spend the next half-hour walking through the scene, and then they would call, ‘OK, let’s have the actors back on the set — we’re going for a take.’

“In Britain, there would have been three weeks’ rehearsal. Maybe not for that kind of program, but you would do it more than once and have a bit of a go at it. But simply to dive straight in, took a bit of getting used to. After a while, I got used to it, and you just do it. In that kind of programming, it works fine, you do it off the top of your head, it’s all very aside like. But it wouldn’t work for most of the series that we do in Britain.

“It’s a shame that American television, it seems to me, is at its lowest common denominator. We used to get programs that I thought were children’s series until I came here and found they were aired during the peak viewing hour. Things like The Dukes of Hazzard — I thought it was a children’s program. It ran in Britain during the children’s hour, but over here, it was on at 8:00 p.m. You think, ‘What? How can they be serious?’ I guess it’s partly that American audiences don’t sit down and look at the program — because if you sat down and really watched something like The Dukes of Hazzard, you would go crazy! It’s a shame, because there’s such a great possibility of doing terrific television over here. The production values are so much higher, there’s so much more available for the program, but you have this awful thing — you have to make the ratings. And Britain’s television does have that certain quality.”

The main difference between British actors and American performers, according to Davison, is the lines they can — or cannot — say. “Sometimes actors get a raw deal in America,” remarks Davison. “People say, ‘Oh, you have such wonderful actors in Britain.’ But British actors can’t say lines that American actors can say. American actors have a great ability — and I mean this as a compliment — to throw themselves into terrible dialogue with 100% conviction, which English actors cannot do. You only have to look at Dynasty to see poor people like Michael Praed [Starlong #126]. He’s a very good actor, but he had to say such awful lines, he couldn’t do it. You could see it in his face. You could see him thinking, ‘I really wish I didn’t have to say this line.’ The American actors just throw themselves into it with such zap,” he snaps his fingers. “And they get away with it.

“English actors try to be macho sometimes and pretend they’re gun-toting cops in the middle of London, but I don’t think we can do it. We look silly swaggering around trying to look as if we had American accents. Americans are great at making the action-type of program. I don’t think we have the know-how yet — in TV anyway. Our TV grew up from theater. The people who run the British TV industry were either from radio or theater, whereas in America, it’s film to television, so they know what they’re doing.

“I would love to do more work in America,” Davison continues. “I was told that I could probably make a good living over here if I [moved] and made a go for six months, and I have thought about it. Unfortunately, every time I do, someone offers me a job in Britain and I usually do that instead.” Davison’s most recent British TV series is a sitcom called A Most Peculiar Practice, in which he plays, ironically, a doctor. This show has been cited as a new BBC hit, so America may have to wait before Davison moves over for good. “If I went through a rough time in the acting business in Britain, if no one offered me anything nicer, I might well leave the country,” he says. “I don’t know that I would like to get tied up with a seven-year option — which is what you have to do if you get tied to a TV series. Although I wouldn’t like it, I would probably do it because it would be something different.”

Who Done It

The extremely likable but very shy Davison has a modest nature and self-promotion isn’t one of his strong points — but there’s no way he can deny his popularity in America or, for that matter, his appeal to the opposite sex. With a slightly reddened face, Davison rebuffs the attention. “It’s very nice. I don’t think about it as just me, but in terms of being in programs which happen to appeal to Americans. I never thought my looks were a strong point,” he laughs. “It’s a great boost to the ego, but at the same time, you have to keep your feet very firmly on the ground. You can’t convince yourself that you’re universally adored. I’m not putting it down at all — it’s very nice to come along here and have so many people interested in you — but it would also be quite easy to get carried away by it.

“For example, the people of Britain have a view, because of the media publicity, that the whole population of America had turned up in Chicago [for a convention] as adoring Doctor Who fans. They ask me all the time what it’s like to be so famous in America, and I have to say, ‘Look, really and truly, I’m not at all famous in America.’ If I get recognized in America, 99% of the time it will be for All Creatures and not Doctor Who. I don’t get recognized that much anyway — five or six times in a visit, that’s all. In Britain, it’s all the time, but not on the same scale.”

“Now that I look back on it,” says Davison of his Who stint, “I enjoyed it very much.”

Davison has completed several other British productions which are waiting to be imported into the United States. “I did a series for the BBC, which was a ‘classic’ BBC-2 serial called Anna of the Five Towns, reveals ‘Davison. “It’s based on a book by Arnold Bennett, set in 1895; it was very well received. I guess it will come over at some point — if the American market buyers like it and if people can understand the accents. Well, people will be able to understand the accents, it’s the buyers who think people can’t understand them. I did two parts of an Agatha Christie story for Mystery! and a sitcom, A Most Peculiar Practice. Then, I did a radio series.”

But what about theater? “I enjoy doing theater from time to time, but I never had a burning desire to be a theater actor,” confesses Davison. “I never thought that theater was the be-all and end-all, and television just paid the rent. I like TV as a medium and I enjoy working in it, and watching it.”

Included in Davison’s viewing is watching himself. “Yes, I always do,” he admits. “It’s the only way that you can really know what you’re doing. Many times you think you’ve done a scene well, and you see it and you realize it was really terrible. And there are times you think you’ve done a scene very badly, and you look at it and it’s actually quite good. If you draw these two lines together, what you think you’ve done and how you’re actually coming over, then you have it worked out— or maybe it’s not thinking about it too much that’s the secret. But I do watch practically everything I do.”

In the past, Davison has voiced concerns about being typecast. The actor’s presence at more Doctor Who conventions lately may indicate his fears have been allayed. “At one point, I was doing three different series which I felt I had to do in order to avoid getting typecast,” he explains. “That’s a funny word because I’m never quite sure if ‘typecasting’ means I’ll only be cast as the same sort of person, or I won’t be cast in anything at all. I suppose, when you say typecasting, what you’re really afraid of is no one offering you another job. It’s not typecasting because, in a way, typecasting is fine — within certain boundaries. Now, I play different parts but always within a certain area of work, usually light, having some element of comedy. Within that area, maybe I’m a sincere character, sometimes I’m flippant. I was a murderer once.

“I wasn’t really a mean murderer, but I was a murderer,” he says proudly. “I was just a crazy murderer. I don’t think conventions have any effect one way or the other because I appear as myself, I don’t dress up as the Doctor. But the fans are as equally interested in what I’m doing now as in Doctor Who. I think I’ve gotten clear of typecasting.”

Now that Davison is able to look at his three seasons with Doctor Who from the outside, he admits he has mixed feelings. “Looking back on the series, I don’t know. I enjoyed it very much — now that I look back on it. But when you’re doing it, it’s hard work and it’s frustrating at times, and restricting,” he says. “Money always seems to be a problem with Doctor Who. We ran out of money at the first season’s end. I was quite happy with the first and third seasons, but not really with the second. I had to make my decision to leave after the second season, and that was difficult. I had to gamble on the third season being quite good because I wanted to go out on a high note. And the good thing is that the best story I did was the last story [The Caves of Adrozani]. So, I was pleased with that. I’m sure there are many things I wish I could have done differently, given different conditions. There’s an anxious time when you leave, where you wonder if you’re going to be stuck with nothing else but Doctor Who. I don’t think I have. Since I’ve left Doctor Who, I’ve been busy doing other things, and that’s good, the security of jobs being offered.”

Having accomplished a great deal as an actor, Davison is hopeful for the chance to explore his untapped talents and become, perhaps, a writer or director. “I don’t quite know what to do. As far as my longterm future, I would love to write or direct. It’s a matter of deciding what to do. I certainly have an ambition to direct, which I think comes from having done Doctor Who. It’s something that I’ve learned quite a lot about from all my time in television, and I would like to give it a try. Should one actually say, ‘OK, that’s it. Call it a day, actor, and try directing?’ I really think that’s the only way to do it. Fortunately, whenever I get the urge, people keep offering me jobs! You have to walk the tightrope, deciding what you’re going to do,” comments Peter Davison. “I hope I’ll be directing, but I don’t know if that’s true because I don’t know if I have what it takes. I just hope that some day, I’ll get myself together enough to actually try it.”

This interview was first published in Starlog Magazine #127, February 1988. © and ® ™ The Brooklyn Company. The photo is of Peter’s 1984 appearence at Creation Conventions, Philadelphia PA.

Categories
Essay

The Girl Who Died: What’s in Your Wallet?

“The Girl Who Died” is the best written, least formulaic story of the Capaldi era. Historical and scientific implausibilities are outweighed by overall emotion and character growth. The Doctor fights Vikings, alien invaders, and his own conscience.

Like most of Series 9, “The Girl Who Died” (written by Jamie Mathieson and Steven Moffat) has a terrific start. Concluding an undocumented adventure, Clara’s in danger and the Doctor’s trying to find her. The rescue does more than entertain with action and banter, though Capaldi and Coleman are clearly hitting their stride. The scene also provides a reason for their unplanned arrival in Viking-era England (the exact setting is unspecified; pick a year between 790 and 1066.) This random TARDIS materialization calls back to less formulaic stories (An Unearthly Child, The War Games, The Caves of Androzani, “Dalek“)where the Doctor’s only objective is getting back to the TARDIS in one piece.

Ripples vs. Title Waves

Clara’s an intriguing character this year, a welcome improvement. As show runner and co-writer, Moffat seems to be making up for her inconsistent characterization in Season 8. Having seen the Doctor transform from young flirty boyfriend to cranky old man, her growing interest in the rules of time travel are completely legitimate. Clara’s reasons for joining the Doctor, however, seem more unbalanced in every episode so far. Their conversations show that there is no psychologically sound reason to join him. His disregard for mundane life is romantic at best, reckless at worst. Missy’s reasons for choosing her are obvious: only a disconnected personality would sign up. Their relationship isn’t friendship; it’s mutual addiction.

Two Days on a Longboat

The Doctor/Clara hostage bickering is reminiscent of he and River Song in “Rain Gods,” another indication of just how emotionally dependent they are. Moffat’s trying to tell us something about this Doctor, perhaps with “premonition is remembering in the wrong direction.” In spite of the actual Viking history of looting, murder and human trafficking, our heroes believe they can somehow joke their way out of this. As far as historical accuracy, this story owes more to The Gunfighters than The Aztecs.

"Your mightiest warriors will feast with me tonight in the halls of Valhalla!"
“Your mightiest warriors will feast with me tonight in the halls of Valhalla!”

Then again, Doctor Who has always shown human atrocity through a sci-fi fantasy, safe for children filter. Settings of most Doctor Who period stories (“Daleks In Manhattan,” “Family of Blood,” “The Shakespeare Code“) are rooted in fictional history as opposed to actual history. Even this episode feels like a Capital One commercial. This child-driven sanitization of Doctor Who is out of step with current viewing habits. The BBC’s Saturday night time slot (8:20 in England, 9:00 in America) means the youngest viewers are teenagers exposed to actual news and history. Placing more emphasis on history and physics won’t turn Doctor Who into Torchwood or Judge Dredd.

This scene flows really well. Ashildr really did “remember in the wrong direction.” The Doctor’s fake Odin trick only backfired because the Mire beat him to it (assuming this isn’t the Mire’s first visit.) “Odin” in the clouds was too silly, but the Vikings never saw Monty Python and the Holy Grail. From the Mire’s perspective, it’s actually a great plan.

While the warriors get abducted, Clara goes against the Doctor’s orders to “not get chosen.” In this instant, she’s the Doctor. She bolts for Ashildr, under the premise of wanting her shackles off. In truth, she’s hoping the aliens detect the sonic glasses as advanced technology. Clara’s instructions sound like “magic in her real world.” Her trick worked, leaving the Doctor, whose TARDIS is two days on a long boat ride away.

Welcome to Valhalla

Once on the ship, Clara makes a pretty good Doctor. She tried everything possible to save herself and the Vikings, and appeared ready to die for a second. Her life on Earth means nothing. Then came the onslaught of writer’s construct: Clara abandons the men, taking Ashildr as her damsel in distress. Somehow, they’re not killed by the wall blasters. Why didn’t the warriors crawl under the blasts? They might not have been book smart, but Vikings were far from helpless.

Clara’s survival and analytical skills work well against the Mire leader. She’s certainly a better liar than Rose Tyler, who was placed in a similar situation in “The Christmas Invasion.” Clara’s fashion model spin drove this point home. She clearly learned something from her time with the Doctor. Going against the show’s formula, she negotiates a peaceful settlement…which Ashildr completely ruins by declaring war. Was she trying to impress Clara, or is it a pure emotional reaction to “Odin” turning her warriors into a testosterone fix? We’re not with her long enough to know. While we’re here, Odin’s testosterone addiction explains his Jekyll/Hyde parenting to Thor and Loki.

Meanwhile, the Doctor’s rant is convincing. He’s got to do something while waiting and hoping for Clara’s return.

I’m Not a Hugger

Maybe his 2,000 year Diary reminded him of losses and bloodbaths. Something influenced his attempt to sell avoidance to Vikings. All his logic, charm and persuasion fall on stubborn ears. “Do babies die with honor?” is a great line, but too conveniently timed. Like a lot of action movies, political campaigns, and tire commercials, this scene uses cute kids to say what hack writers are too lazy to express by other means. How else did she get to be such an expressive poet laureate in 2 or 3 months? Oh yeah, that “fire in the water” vision means she’s also psychic. Like Neo, she’s “looking at the world without time.”

Ashildr’s plea for the Doctor to stay is unconvincing. Weren’t they ready to kill him half an hour ago? Ashildr’s having a rough time processing the war she caused. To that end, she hopes the Doctor can somehow make the consequences of her actions go away. He should have left.

It Will Be Spectacular

Clara’s got way too much faith in the Doctor. It’s certainly stronger than Amy Pond’s in “The God Complex,” where the villian murdered his victims with their own worship. His plea for Clara to find another hobby doesn’t work because (a) she’s too addicted to listen and (b) he’s unqualified to tell anyone how to handle their emotions. Watching the Doctor process his “duty of care” for Clara exposes his addiction for companions. It’s gone far past the tenth Doctor’s loneliness. He knows it’s wrong, but can’t stop himself from recklessly bringing humans into his dangerous lifestyle. Twelve isn’t the whimsical madman in a box.

“A good death is all one can hope for” is his last ditch effort to save her. Clara’s “start winning” speech is just as nonsensical as her “anyone can be a hero” speech in “Day of the Doctor,” and only works because of help from the writers.

Is Clara bisexual?

Later, the Doctor and Ashildr have a private chat. She still feels bad about everyone’s impending death, but now shows no remorse for causing it. Her “I will pity you” speech stinks of writer’s construct. In 3 viewings, I still don’t see the value in her being a sexual hybrid. In one speech, the writers awkwardly download the inner workings of a character we’ve been with since the episode’s beginning. This scene felt like an afterthought to move the plot along.

Fire in the Water

That precocious baby got the Doctor to invent electromagnetism at least 800 years early. This, combined with the seventh Doctor’s guile, is how he won. But how did South American electric eels get to England? The solution is “the good old Doctor flim-flam” disguised as science. We aren’t shown how many electric eels there are, but they couldn’t possibly generate enough power to wreck the Mire’s battle armor. Large eels can produce 600 volts, but they need to be in perpetual fear to do so. They’d need to be in aluminum tanks to conduct their power into wires. And where did the wires come from? There couldn’t be enough silver in Clara’s spacesuit (Norrin Radd didn’t have that much silver!) Perhaps they melted copper coins, which England had since the third century.

Good thing Mire’s battlefield helmets are made of ferromagnetic metal. If their defense contractor went with copper or zinc, the show would be rebranded as Missy’s Revenge.

Wanting this level of science accuracy might seem a bit much, but we were challenged to “Google it” just last week.

Convincing Hologram

Ashildr’s fear makes sense, but I wish she didn’t show it. Suspending the scientific improbability of the Doctor’s plan, it was spectacular. Armed only with his diary as reference, he used Ashildr to hack into the Mire’s network. Tony Stark better watch his back. “Teaching a man to fish,” he shares his psychological war techniques with the Vikings. It’s almost like he’s teaching young Doctor Who viewers how to deal with bullies.

Speaking of which, what is his exit plan for introducing electricity, iPhones, and Benny Hill to the Viking Age? He’s either going to wipe their memories, or hope enough of them die.

I’ll Lose Any War You Like

"Come with me."
“Come with me.”

Why does Ashildr’s death trigger the Doctor’s melancholy? The Vikings didn’t blame him; they know she sacrificed her life for them. With so much prep work on short notice, the Doctor didn’t have time to consider how a Mire war helmet would affect a human. In context of the deaths he’s seen and caused, this reaction seems like a cheap way to get to the “why this face?” soliloquy. Russell T. Davies came up with this idea when Moffat cast Peter Capaldi as the twelfth Doctor. Davies hired Capaldi for “The Fires of Pompeii” and the Torchwood story “Children of Earth.” Speaking of Pompeii, the tenth Doctor’s “come with me” scene looks a lot like Terminator 2.

Is the twelfth Doctor’s Capaldi face a note-to-self saying it’s okay to play God, to decide who lives? Mr. Copper said that would make him a monster in “Voyage of the Damned,” and it didn’t work in “The Waters of Mars.” Why, even in a moment of rage, would the Doctor give anyone “functional immortality?” After realizing his error, he tells Clara “a good death is the best anyone can hope for.” He’s good at telling everyone else how to cope with death and loss, but “everybody else dying” doesn’t apply to him.

Our hero’s a bit hard on himself with the whole “running away from pain” thing. Personal loss is supposed to hurt; welcome to humanity. And as we found out in “The Name Of The Doctor,” a lot of planets got saved by his perceived emotional weakness.

What’s done is done. With a Mire’s battlefield medical kit that came from nowhere, the Doctor created a human/alien hybrid. Let’s hope it’s closer to the Doctor/Donna and not the half-human Time Lord in the 1996 Doctor Who movie.

Other than getting me dizzy, was there a point to Ashildr’s spinning green screen sunset scene?

Categories
Essay

The Witch’s Familiar: The Only Other Chair on Skaro

"So why am I tied up?"
“So why am I tied up?”

The action starts right after last week’s cliffhanger “The Magician’s Apprentice“, where it looked like Clara and Missy were killed by Daleks. As it turns out, Missy faked their deaths with a Vortex Manipulator/Sonic Screwdriver hack. Introduced in this episode, it comes off as the deus ex machina plot bailout from the Russell T. Davies era. Steven Moffat pulled similar solutions from nowhere in “The Big Bang,” and “The Impossible Astronaut“.

The suspension bondage scene, however, hinted at Clara’s adrenaline addiction. Briefly hinted at last season, it gets a bit more definition in “Under the Lake.” Clara thinks nothing of waking up in classic Wonder Woman predicaments.

Get Out!

The red and gold Dalek is like Iron Man insecurity: a wounded, frightened nerd hiding in super powered armor. Dalek armor was orginally designed as protection from radiation, which came from their civil war with the Thals. This distinction is lost on most Doctor Who writers, who portray Daleks as generic sci-fi killer robots.

It was nice seeing humans stoop under doorways ergonomically designed for Daleks.

Seeing the Doctor in Davros’ chair was terrific, but Moffat cheated us of seeing how he did it. Did the Doctor forcibly yank him out, like Mr. Pink’s carjacking scene in Reservoir Dogs? If so, Twelve is the most two-fisted, film noir Doctor ever.

Daleks Have Sewers?

mightPunch

How does Clara fall 20 feet with no broken bones? How does Clara get out of that goopy Dalek suit without one stain? If you even think “just accept it,” I will jump through this computer or mobile device and punch you in the nose.

Missy’s in complete control, but even she initially freaked out when she found out she was on Skaro. Her scenes aren’t written well enough to tell if her sense of security comes from superior knowledge or delusional insanity. There simply aren’t enough calm moments in Michelle Gomez’s performance to judge. Like John Simm, she plays the homicidal Time Lord like Jack Nicholson’s Joker: a hammy, bloodthirsty cartoon. These funny-but-senseless scenes could be in an Avengers movie.

By the way, I’m not slamming the actors. Their performances are guided, controlled, and defined by the showrunners.

The Dalek graveyard is another deus ex machina plot device. Without it, Missy and Clara would have been killed by the living sewers of Skaro. I’m beginning to think this episode was ghost-written by Rose “Bad Wolf” Tyler.

I can’t stand the Doctor’s begging for Clara’s life, especially in context of Dalek’s killing and prison camps. It is, however, consistent with Doctor Who history. Jo Grant, Sarah Jane, both Romanas, Nyssa, Tegan, Peri Brown…even Mel got desperate pleas! Perhaps emotional connections to Earthlings shield him, and us, from typical Time Lord traits of detachment and violence.

For a witch’s familiar, Clara’s really frightened. She came off as a dominatrix last season. How is this “I’m going to die” moment any different than the others she’s faced since “The Bells of Saint John?”

Tonight, We Entrap a Time Lord

“You keep saying that; you keep not dying” reminds me of Hyman Roth in Godfather II.

When did Davros become such a smooth talker? It had to happen sometime after “Journey’s End.” Moffat seems to be confusing him for the Roger Delgado era Master. If Davros’ original plan was “tearing the Doctor apart to take his regeneration energy,” why did he waste all night stroking the Doctor’s compassion? Davros can only see compassion as a cancer.

The “we’re both the same” moral ambiguity reminds me of older, better examples. The theme was executed with more nuance by Alan Moore (Batman: The Killing Joke ,) John Woo (The Killer, Bullet in the Head, Hard Boiled), Hayao Miyazaki (People of the Desert,) and just about any Toshiro Mifune/Akira Kurosawa film film.

The Doctor’s counter-plot isn’t any more convincing. He’d have died if Missy didn’t free him, oozing his new regeneration cycle on Skaro. Perhaps Moffat earned his cliffhanger serial writing degree from Republic Pictures.

I’m Helping a Little Boy I Abandoned on a Battlefield

Aside from seeking personal redemption by saving the cute white kid, how is maiming a bunch of Handmines humane? This is a 180-degree turn from understanding others. This also points to the Doctor’s hypocritical stance on revising one’s personal history. This is the same guy that lectured Rose Tyler about fixed points in time in “Father’s Day?” The Monk from “Time Meddler” looks better every day.

Stray Thoughts

Obviously, I ran out of time last week. Shut up.

  • Only on Doctor Who could sludge be a deadly weapon.
  • The callback to “Asylum of the Daleks” is pretty good.
  • On the Dalek’s concept of mercy, does Moffat even remember his own scripts?
  • “Your sewers are revolting” is a great line.
  • For reasons I can’t reveal yet, the TARDIS Hostile Action Displacement System is brilliant.
  • “The Doctor and Clara Oswald in the TARDIS” is just awful.
  • Does everyone on new Who speak fluent punch-line?
Categories
Essay

The Magician’s Apprentice: From Kahn to Skaro

Series 9 of Doctor Who started off with a bang, delivering the good, the bad and the WTF we’ve come to expect. “The Magician’s Apprentice” is half of a 2-part story. Here’s what I got out of the season’s big premiere.

Have You Ever Seen a Hand Mine?

When done well, the time travel genre can express character transformation. Look what it did for Phil Connors in Groundhog Day. This might be the best example of the Doctor “making his own monster” since The Face of Evil.

Of course Kanzo, the compassionate black soldier, had to die saving the cute white kid. As a product of British culture, Doctor Who has always been tone-deaf to race. Tomb of the Cybermen has the big, dumb, black manservant Toberman. The Talons of Weng-Chiang (fourth Doctor) and Four to Doomsday (fifth Doctor) use the term “china man” as tool of oppression. Even in the Russell T Davies era “The Shakespeare Code ,” the Doctor dismisses Martha’s logical concerns about becoming a slave (which was later picked up in “Human Nature”/”Family of Blood.“)

“Hand mine” is a great pun. I thought the creatures were a copy of that child-eating monster from Pan’s Labyrinth (2006) Turns out that was inspired by Tenome, a mythical creature from the Japanese picture book series Gazu Hyakki Yakō (“The Illustrated Night Parade of A Hundred Demons,” published in 1776.)

Davros Remembers

The Maldovarian bar scene is a sustained cliché. Was that Figrin D’an and the Modal Nodes playing “My Angel Put the Devil in Me” in the background? Like Pepperidge Farm, Davros remembers. But why does he send Colony Sarff all over the universe like an intergalactic thug-a-gram? “Tell me what I want to know, or I’ll do something…cinematic!” He should’ve called the Twelfth Cyber Legion; they seemed to know everything in A Good Man Goes To War” (written by Steven Moffat). Davros could have delivered his cryptic message more efficiently with email, chat, or GoToMeeting.

Then there’s the “super powered servant” cliché. The earliest example I can think of is Silver Surfer (Fantastic Four #48–50, 1966). The Surfer, however, did reconnaissance for a real “destroyer of worlds.” Colony Sarff is more pointless than Luca Brasi.

Why can’t the Doctor have super powered companions?

What are Colony Sarff’s superpowers, anyway? They seem like the Mara from Kinda, who could manipulate the weakened Davros. How’d he get past those scary Judoon to break into the Shadow Proclamation? In typical new Who plot sloppiness, show runners hope the scene is too awesome for us to care how it happened…or that we don’t remember past episodes. It’s like they don’t know their audience.

It Saves Time

The banter between the Doctor and High Priestess Ohila was terrific. Although she wasn’t alive when the fourth Doctor met the Sisterhood in The Brain of Morbius, their personal friendship seems almost that long. She certainly isn’t fazed by his compulsive lying. Her plea shows a sad, helpless frustration of not being able to stop a loved one from self-destruction. Quoting a Rilo Kiley line, the Doctor seemed as “ready to go” as he did at the end of Planet of the Spiders. Moffat being Moffat, he almost ruined this with his sappy “you can never lose a friend” line.

It’s too bad Moffat decided the High Priestess couldn’t be Ohica, played by Gillian Brown in The Brain of Morbius. Hiring Ms. Brown to reprise the role would have been a nice touch.

#ThePlanesHaveStopped

Clara Oswald is still a horrible teacher. How would “Jane Austin’s a phenomenal kisser” not get her fired? A real teacher wouldn’t have time for Danny or the Doctor. In a credibility nose-dive from An Unearthly Child, last season’s portrayal of teaching is less believable than time travel and “little blue men with three heads.”

Without turning the show into Room 222 or The Secret Life of the American Teenager, this could have been fixed by giving each story a brief moment to Clara’s job preparation. She could have graded on the TARDIS, bounced ideas off P.E. over dinner, or confided with her grandmother (which would have made amazing for both generations of independent women).

UNIT is just as clumsy and indiscrete as they were under the Brig. Those morons outed Clara as a government operative. I’m beginning to think the MI6 passed on Kate Stewart’s resume. In an even bigger WTF moment, the woman who was ready to blow up the world in “Day of the Doctor” is insecure plot device, deferring to the worst high school teacher since Henry “Indiana” Jones.

We have Sir Arthur Conan Doyle to thank for the “gifted amateur” being smarter than trained professionals. In his world, police are incompetent, authority figures are mean, and women are mysterious at best.

Sherlock Holmes‘ super power was “Holmesian deduction, solving crimes with forensic science (fingerprints, anthropometry, toxicology and ballistics.) When the first novel was published in 1887, however, Scotland Yard was using forensic science for 60 years (chemistry in 1832, bullet comparison in 1835.) Perhaps this inspired the phrase “No shit, Sherlock.”

Kate should’ve applied the BBC’s 1960s archive policy to Clara’s memory again, and calmly lead the UNIT geeks into finding the Doctor.

I hope they show how Missy survived “Death in Heaven” in next week’s conclusion. “Not dead, back, big surprise, never mind” is just damn lazy. Worse, it took me out of the story. Even a lame, hacked-out super villain escape story is better than none.

On the positive, this might be the best exploration of the Doctor/Master relationship since the unproduced The Final Game. Missy’s definition of friendship vague, evades her love of bloodshed, but hints at just enough to be intriguing. Clara’s “I’m the tin dog” moment was delightful.

You Said You Wanted an Axe Fight

Guilt of creating Davros throws the Doctor into a downward spiral, much like Tony Stark in Iron Man 2. His emotional “party like it’s 1999” breakdown is jarring to watch, almost like a reality show. (Bors could have been played by Gary Busey.) In this context, especially with the “all of me” line, Capaldi’s electric guitar is a logical connection to Troughton’s flute.

Why are there no consequences for bringing 21st century technology and slang to the 12th century? Are the Reapers too busy chasing The Monk?

A Thousand Years of Fighting

The Doctor’s explanation of the Daleks is more compelling and human than past serials. Using footage from Genesis of the Daleks was a stroke of genius. Michelle Gomez’ Missy is a lot like Tom Baker’s Doctor: they both speak in riddles, have to prove their intelligence every moment, and delightfully infuriate the people they’re trying to help. Davros’ “Do you know why you came, Doctor” is reminiscent of the manipulative Oracle’s “…you’ve already made the choice. Now you have to understand it.”

Stray Thoughts

Yes, I ran out of time. Shut up.

  • Why would any modern action hero use the term “archenemy”?
  • Picking up from “Last Christmas,” someone calls the Doctor a magician.
  • The Skaro reveal is cool, complete with the “Stolen Earth” soundtrack.
  • The red/gold Dalek looks like Iron Man.
  • The Doctor panics over Clara…why? Why would he beg Davros to save Clara’s life? This seems like a repeat of “Stolen Earth.”
  • Missy’s sales pitch to the Daleks is consistent with the classic Who Master.
  • Why would the Daleks bring the TARDIS to Skaro to destroy it…why not destroy it on Earth in 1138?
  • Does every show runner get to create a dismissible black boyfriend?
Categories
Essay

Age of Actors who Played the Doctor

Comparing the 50-somethings shows just how fragile Billy Hartnell was for his age. (To be fair, that probably had more to do with arteriosclerosis, the show’s 48-episode/year work schedule, and post-Verity Lambert producers resenting his salary being 4 times more than his costars.) Hartnell loved being the Doctor and didn’t want to go.

One thing’s for certain: our rebel Time Lord’s enjoyed 2,000 years of white privilege.

Ages of Doctor Who actors on their debuts
Source: TARDIS Data Core, Wikipedia, TARDIS Regenerated
The Doctor Actor Date of Birth Debut Air Date Age
First (1963-1966) William Hartnell 8 January 1908 23 November 1963 55
Second (1966-1969) Patrick Troughton 25 March 1920 29 October 1966 46
Third (1970-1974) Jon Pertwee 7 July 1919 3 January 1970 50
Fourth (1974-1981) Tom Baker 20 January 1934 8 June 1974 40
Fifth (1981-1984) Peter Davison 13 April 1951 21 March 198129
Sixth (1984-1986) Colin Baker 8 June 1943 16 March 1984 40
Seventh (1987-1989) Sylvester McCoy 20 August 1943 7 September 1987 44
Eighth (1996) Paul McGann 14 November 1959 27 May 1996 36
War Doctor (1996) John Hurt 22 January 1940 23 November 2013 73
Ninth (2005) Chris Eccleston 16 February 1964 26 March 2005 41
Tenth (2005-2010) David Tennant 18 April 1971 18 June 2005 34
Eleventh (2010-2013) Matt Smith 28 October 1982 1 January 2010 27
Twelfth (2014-present) Peter Capaldi 14 April 1958 23 August 2014 55

“Happy Deathday”

Research led me to this 8-page comic book (full comic | process), written by Scott Gray and drawn by Roger Langridge, was published in Doctor Who Magazine #272 (1998.) The Beige Guardian kidnapped all eight Doctors, forcing them to defeat their past enemies at once.

Sample of "Happy Deathly"
Categories
Fan Fiction

Fifth American Doctor: Mark Harmon

1982–84. Honorable mentions: Michael Gross, David Michael Hasselhoff, Pierce Brosnan, Michael Keaton

Supporting Cast
Adric: Lee Curreri
Nyssa: Heather Locklear
Tegan Jovanka: Diana Canova
The Master: Edward Mulhare

Mark Harmon was chosen as a physical contrast to Barry Newman, as well as for his critically acclaimed role in the prime time soap opera Flamingo Road. At 29 years old, Harmon was the youngest actor to have played the Doctor. However, he only agreed to play the role for 3 years to keep from getting typecast. Harmon reportedly got this idea from second Doctor Leslie Nielsen. Harmon’s Doctor was a youthful pacifist, portraying 19th century upper-class values of chivalry, science, and golf. British actor Peter Davison based his Stephen Daker in A Very Peculiar Practice on Harmon’s sensitive, deliberate, and occasionally indecisive performance.

Prior to Doctor Who, Lee Curreri was best known for his role as the intense keyboard prodigy Bruno Martelli in the film Fame and its spinoff Fame television series. When Fame was cancelled, he immediately auditioned for and won the role of Adric. As a young boy, Curreri’s letter praising Doctor Who was published in Starlog magazine. Having started playing Adric the previous year, Curreri left the show — and acting altogether — to become a full-time musician. His breakthrough in this capacity was the soundtrack to The Killing Edge, the 1986 sci-fi thriller starring Matthew Waterhouse.

Heather Locklear made her earliest screen appearances in minor roles on CHiPs, 240-Robert, Eight Is Enough, and The Return of the Beverly Hillbillies. She’d already been working on Dynasty in 1981, but had a falling out with producer Aaron Spelling. Through her agent, Locklear auditioned for and won the role of Nyssa. Her good friend Sarah Sutton said Locklear “…pulled off [Nyssa’s] complicated and conflicting character with surprising ease and grace.”

Diana Canova made her television acting debut in Happy Days, then guest-starred in Chico and the Man, Starsky and Hutch, and Barney Miller. It was Canova’s recurring role on Soap that made Doctor Who producers want her to portray Tegan Jovanka. Once describing her character as “just a mouth on legs,” Canova’s Tegan was a perfect counter balance to Heather Locklear’s Nyssa. Her loud, smart, and stubborn performance inspired Janet Fielding‘s portrayal of Deborah Simons in Hold the Back Page.

Edward Mulhare‘s busy career, starting from the late 1940s, was on the wane by the 1980s. Doctor Who producers remembered his role of the poltergeist Captain Daniel Gregg in The Ghost & Mrs. Muir, as well as his later roles on Hart to Hart and Battlestar Galactica. He got the role of the Master when Ricardo Montalbán quit the show to do Fantasy Island. His performance as Arthur Sydney in the Hart to Hart episode “The Man with the Jade Eyes” won him the role of the Master.

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Categories
Fan Fiction

Fourth American Doctor: Barry Newman

1974–81. Honorable mentions: Paul Sand, Ronny Cox, Henry Darrow, Steve Landesberg

Supporting Cast
Sarah Jane Smith: Cindy Williams
Harry Sullivan: Ken Howard
Hilda Winters: Diana Muldaur

Barry Newman‘s breakout performance as the brash, gonzo attorney Tony Petrocelli in The Lawyer (with Doctor Who costar Diana Muldaur) won him the role of the fourth Doctor. Newman was set to reprise his role for the 1974 television series Petrocelli, but was replaced at the last minute by Tom Baker, a construction worker and personal friend of show consultant F. Lee Bailey. Disappointed, Sidney J. Furie (who directed The Lawyer) strongly encouraged Newman to audition for Doctor Who. Newman won the role with his unique combination of madness, humor and conviction.

Cindy Williams seemed born to play Sarah Jane Smith, but it almost didn’t happen. In 1973, producers originally cast Gretchen Corbett when Elaine Giftos left the role of Jo Grant. Allegedly the pairing of Garner’s Doctor and Corbett’s Sarah Jane didn’t work. (Williams’ close friend Elisabeth Sladen said that Garner “likes to impose himself physically on smaller women“.) Based on an enthusiastic recommendation from American Graffiti producer Francis Ford Coppola, the role was quickly re-cast to Williams.

Ken Howard won the regular role of Captain Mike Yates in 1971, but couldn’t accept due to a prior commitment. (That role eventually went to British actor Ian Marter.) Producers remembered Howard, giving him a supporting role in 1973’s “Carnival of Monsters“. The following year, Howard won the role of Harry Sullivan, a character developed when it looked like the fourth Doctor would be played by an older actor who couldn’t handle action scenes. When the 36-year-old Barry Newman was cast, Harry was written out of the show after only one season.

Diana Muldaur was a busy character actor, juggling various movie and television roles. Doctor Who co-creator Gene Roddenberry personally encouraged her to audition. Muldaur worked well with Barry Newman a few years earlier in The Lawyer, but was heavily in demand and could only commit to a single episode. The role of Hilda Winters, leader of the Scientific Reform Society, was tailored for Muldaur’s desire to play a “modern, sympathetic but thoroughly evil villain”. Muldaur based part of her performance on Patricia Maynard‘s portrayal of Cora Munro in The Last of the Mohicans.

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