Tag: d12

Essay

The Zygon Invasion: Error of the Zygons

Post author By David Marshall
Post date November 13, 2015
1 Comment on 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.

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.

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?”

Essay

Zygon Inversion: Break the Cycle

Post author By Rene Schwiesow
Post date November 9, 2015
No Comments on Zygon Inversion: Break the Cycle

War, what is it good for? Whether it be between two people, entire countries, or between races of beings…absolutely nothing. “The only way anyone can live in peace, is if they’re prepared to forgive.”

Clara has found herself within a dream before. She knows what to do. “Dream checks” we hear her saying as she flips through an unreadable paper where she finds a message from the Doctor and the ominous words that have been with us since last episode — truth or consequences. Those words may have added psychological weight to every fan in the Whodom. Who among us will not carry them within?

Following Clara’s dream check she turns to see Bonnie ready to blast the Doctor’s plane from the sky. She is able to knock her off balance and the shot misses. Despite Clara’s attempts to manipulate the trigger when Bonnie reloads and takes second aim, Bonnie was able to overcome the mind meld and hit her target. Short and surreal, the opening sequence left us wondering how the Doctor would manage to get out of this fine mess.

In the Mix

Bonnie is on a mission to convert all Zygons back to their original form. We find her following an unfortunate shape-shifted Zygon to make him the first that humans will see in Zygon form. Still, if he is going to be the first to “make the humans see” why is it that the four unsuspecting young people who are confronted by the Zygon act as if they cannot see him at all? There is no reaction, no movement, no recognition of anything out of the ordinary as the Zygon stumbles off. In the background we can see a mother and father with a baby carriage who are also still as statues. I’m making the assumption that Bonnie had this set up for video purposes. One would think, however, that a video would have been more effective if the “normalized” Zygon would have caused panic to the bystanders. At this point all that was missing was a white, corded earpiece for Bonnie and my flashback to Agent Smith in The Matrix would have been complete.

In Clara’s stuck-in-her-flat lucid dream, she is able to zoom in on the television screen and see two parachutes drifting away from the in-air wreckage. It’s a good thing that time is timey-wimey because I’m not sure how the Doctor and Osgood got their parachutes on so quickly. But they’re lucky that they did as they appear to be the only survivors. They touch down on a beach and the Doctor climbs from a Union Jack parachute, ala James Bond, and hands over his sonic glasses for Osgood to use since hers were broken when she landed. He warns her not to look at his browser history. Of course we all want to know what is in the Doctor’s browser history now. If only we could get a peek through those sonics.

Osgood speculates at Bonnie’s misfire, certain that her connection to Clara’s mind would instill the knowledge that there should be no hesitation in killing the Doctor. The Doctor, still in “hope phase,” doesn’t want to talk about Clara, doesn’t want to think about the possibility that she may be dead. Without the stereotypical romance aspect of relationship, we are, perhaps, better able to see loved stripped to the bare core — deep, still unexplainable, and always present. Yet, isn’t that in its essence romantic? Maybe…maybe romance is more than our attachment to the concept of a relationship that includes sexual intimacy.

Clara is busy focusing on a mind meld that will allow her to contact the Doctor. The Impossible Girl is always, of course, successful and texts a message to the Doctor stating that she is “awake.” He is sharing his view of the revolutionaries with Osgood, describing them in this way: “Don’t think of them as rational, they’re different. They don’t care about human beings. They don’t care about their own people. They think the rest of Zygonkind are traitors,” when his text sound is heard. He doesn’t believe that it could really be Clara, but Osgood does. Ok, it’s a theory, but Osgood believes it.

What Bonnie hasn’t yet understood is how mentally strong Clara is or how Clara has been able to infiltrate her. She does a double-take when walking by a mirror where Clara’s reflection appeared. Bonnie is in search of the Osgood box to break the ceasefire and finds a video. The video reveals that the Osgoods have lied and the box is not at the location it was thought to be. “There’s a reason it’s called the Osgood box,” they tell us. How many of you had, by that point, figured out that there were two boxes?

Bonnie throws a childish temper tantrum and smashes the computer. Doctor John Disco is flashing psychic paper at unresponsive people until he figures out that something is not right and he and Osgood walk away. Osgood calls Bonnie on Clara’s phone, which is a set-up to get a message to Clara. The Doctor refers to Bonnie as Zygella, a name that she denies. The strange, unresponsive people are closing in on the Doctor and Osgood, and since a van just happens to be parked on the deserted road, a car theft via sonic sunglasses seems to be exactly what the Doctor ordered. Before you continue to groan at my phraseology, at least I didn’t call myself Dr. Puntastic.

Set-ups

At first it appears that Bonnie/Zygella seems to have no idea that the Doctor is communicating with Clara. He becomes blatant when he tells Clara not to let Bonnie get to her memories. After he hangs up, Osgood reminds him that Bonnie heard everything he said. “The mind of Clara Oswald, she’ll never find her way out,” The Doctor says and smiles.

The Doctor used the non-verbal communication he talked about to find Clara and set up Bonnie, and Clara understood. She knew just what to do again. Now that’s a companion. Bonnie goes straight to Clara’s pod to get to the memories. Clara plays her like a fiddle. It’s likely that potential protocol for the nightmare scenario had been discussed previously. The Doctor’s no dummy.

He is, however, fixated on whether Osgood is human or Zygon. In fact he feels that it’s important. Osgood maintains that she is just…Osgood. Osgood with a first name of Petronella (rock, solid), which she revealed after the Doctor threw out that his first name was Basil. Basil is a Greek name that means royal or kingly — fitting, yes? But is it really his first name?

We last saw Kate Lethbridge Stewart in Truth Or Consequences, NM. We thought she was dead. But is she? When she shows up, it appears that the Doctor thinks she may be a Zygon shape-shifter too, but he and Osgood follow her to find Clara’s pod. Once there, they find the pod missing. Bonnie finds two Osgood boxes. Kate contacts her to say she has the Doctor and Bonnie tells her to keep him alive, which Kate questions. When the Doctor and Osgood realize that the guards who had been with Kate were Zygon, Kate reacts by shooting them dead after Bonnie issues an ultimatum for the normalized guards to bring the Doctor to her. In answer to the question of how Kate survived, we see a flashback to Truth or Consequences — she shot the Zygon there, too. Kate apologizes, knowing the Doctor doesn’t approve. “Why does peace keeping always involve killing?” he asks. So far, it appears that the set-ups are all around. Either the Doctor, Kate, and Clara are amazingly good guessers or they’re brilliant strategists — or both.

The Final Countdown

“This is war. You pull the trigger. You may the price.” Now we have two boxes, one Bonnie, and one Kate, and Kate and Bonnie are on opposite sides of the issue. The Doctor, as usual, is in the middle. He launches into an approximately ten minute speech on the horrors of war — and he’s damn good at evoking emotion. “When you’ve killed all the bad guys and when it’s all perfect and just and fair, when you have finally got it exactly the way you want it, what are you going to do with the people like you — the trouble makers? How are you going to protect your glorious revolution from the next one?” He asks Zygella. After her response that they will win, he concludes:

“Maybe you will win, but nobody wins for long…break the cycle.”

Basil has put the ultimate set-up in place, showing small-scale warfare contained in one room. The Doctor wants so desperately to be able to stop people from making the same mistake he did. I flash back to “The Day of the Doctor,” where both ten and eleven keep the double Kate’s in a room, waiting for one of them to call off detonation of explosives.

Then, this man who professes that he is not in touch with emotions, shows how well he can read eyes and expression, how much he recognizes Clara’s emotions when he sees them in Zygella’s eyes and on her face.

Following her surrender to logic and emotion, Zygella takes Osgood form and the Doctor tries one last time to figure out if one of the Osgoods is human. Their response is that they’ll tell him one day…”when nobody cares about the answer.”

Back in the TARDIS, Clara asks him how he felt when he thought that she may have been dead. His response: “Longest month of my life.” Clara is surprised and says that it couldn’t have been more than five minutes. “I’ll be the judge of time,” he replies. Minutes of loss can easily drain us of days, weeks, or longer.

End Notes

Why does the Doctor wipe Kate’s memory clean but no one else’s, with the exception of the Zygon soldiers? Why not Zygella’s memory as well?

Jenna Coleman puts in a superb performance as Bonnie/Zygella and as Clara Oswald in this two-parter. Peter Capaldi is more than on point with his performance. The war speech is long, but it is commanding, intense, and thought-provoking.

The depth of care between the Doctor and Clara deepens with each episode this season. We know that Clara is leaving; therefore, it makes sense, on the one hand, that the writers would build on this emotion progressing toward a profound loss. On the other hand, why wait until this season to punch this home? We are shown the potential for loss when the Doctor thinks Clara may be dead. What we see is love. Fiction mirrors life and, unfortunately, many may never realize their love or the potential pain of its loss, until loss actually happens. In the Doctor’s case, “luck” reversed the probability of death. In reality, most of us don’t get that reprieve. Care now.

Both “The Zygon Invasion” and “The Zygon Inversion” make global statements that relate to current events, the macrocosm. That is a clear and necessary point. Yet, we’d likely be doing ourselves a disservice if we didn’t also see the microcosm. Every day we interact interpersonally, relating person-to-person, frequently fighting our own mini wars and/or mini cold wars. One of the most poignant speech quotes is this: “The only way anyone can live in peace, is if they’re prepared to forgive.”

Sit down and talk, the Doctor demands of the characters (and, in truth, of us). Otherwise, “You will die stupid,” he says to Zygella. Why do many of us not yet realize this?

Tags agent smith, bonnie/zygella, clara oswald, d12, doctor who, hope phase, james bond, osgood, osgoods, peter capaldi, peter harness, terror of the zygons, the matrix, the zygon invasion, truth or consequences, union jack, zygella, zygon, zygonkind

Essay

Zygon Invasion: It’s A Bonnie Day Indeed?

Post author By Rene Schwiesow
Post date November 2, 2015
1 Comment on Zygon Invasion: It’s A Bonnie Day Indeed?

Peter Capaldi presents continuing evidence that he is growing into the 12th Doctor’s regeneration through superb performances in his own style. Jenna Coleman (aka the Impossible Girl) is, perhaps, having her best Series yet!

“Once upon a time…there were three doctors, two Osgoods, one peace treaty.” After these words scroll our screen, we are launched into a clip from the fiftieth anniversary special, “The Day of the Doctor.” We first met the fangirl Osgood during this special. She believed in the Doctor’s deity and prayed to him to keep her safe. Osgood became a favorite character for Who fans and her apparent death at the hand of Missy during “Death in Heaven” was a blow to viewers. “The Day of the Doctor” brought back the Zygons, who had not been seen since the 1975 4^th Doctor serial, “Terror of the Zygons.” Though Cybermen have gone through many incarnations throughout Doctor Who‘s long and successful run, the Zygons have not changed much since 1975.

Following “The Day of the Doctor” clip we find both Osgoods discussing their human/Zygon nature on video and telling of the upcoming terror due to the demise of a peace treaty set up during “The Day of the Doctor.” On the one hand, as realization sets in that a renegade faction of Zygons are planning human destruction, I am left to wonder how the many, many peace-loving Zygons who have made earth their home are pulled into the fight. Then I remind myself that the historical precedence for such an uprising is very real. Given the state of the world, the story is current. The question is whether or not Peter Harness, who penned, “Zygon Invasion,” wrote with an eye toward contemporary politics. Since “write what you know” is an oft used phrase given to writers seeking inspiration, how could there not be a Who episode with the world’s political state as fodder? The Osgood sisters make their most pointed statement on humanity and our understanding of it with these words: “Any race is capable of the best and the worst, every race is peaceful and warlike, good and evil…if one Zygon goes rogue, or one human…” Over the course of humanity there have been many times one individual has gone rogue. Who, in the world, is now rogue? After this video was made, we know that one of the Osgood sisters dies.

The surviving Osgood sister, under threat, is able to make contact with the Doctor just before she is taken by a Zygon. The sequence opener leaves us with the RockDoc strumming “Amazing Grace” while reading the message from Osgood: nightmare scenario.

In the Mix

The Doctor, in his black, sonic sunglasses, looks good on a swing waiting to stalk what appear to be children, but are, instead, the Zygon commanders. He is leaving Clara a message with one of the several 12^th Doctor inspired phrases that are sure to become Who fandom lingo: “Hello, it’s Doctor Disco.” He attempts to talk to the two girls, calling them Monster High and Cinderella, both modern day children’s references. Monster High is a trademark for monster fashion dolls and Cinderella a Disney reference. Perhaps an allusion that the illusions of the Zygon people are about to be shattered. Is there a fairy godmother to save the peace-loving Zygons and all of humanity? We are whisked to UNIT to hear Kate Lethbridge-Stewart indicate that there is possible tracking for the 20,000,000 Zygons who have shape-shifted and are living an earthly life. A nice NSA reference.

Meanwhile, back on the playground, the Doctor pulls rank on the Zygon twin-like commanders, receives a phone call from Kate, and watches, helplessly, as the commanders are abducted. “The war is about to begin,” Osgood reports from captivity. “There will be truth or there will be consequences.” The Doctor is still unable to get in touch with Clara. If you’ve been following along since Clara’s inception on Doctor Who, you will understand that this seems a bit odd. The Impossible Girl is always available.

Are you paying attention? We find Clara at her apartment building where she comes across a young boy sitting on the stairs. He indicates that he cannot find his parents and Clara offers to help. She is greeted by a father who acts suspiciously and a zombie-looking mother. When Clara leaves the apartment she is nonchalant, seemingly unfazed despite hearing the child’s screams. Did you take notice? Detached from the incident, she phones the Doctor with a quip about his disco Doctor reference.

The Doctor and Clara arrive at a school that is the headquarters for the Zygon. While there, a video comes through showing the assassination of the two Zygon commanders by the revolutionaries. The transmission ends with a revolutionary saying “truth or consequences.” This is a theme projected by the Zygon throughout the episode. After discussion of strategy, Kate is off to Truth or Consequences, NM (based on Clara’s knowledge of the city), Clara and Jac will stay there, and the Doctor is off in a big plane, because he likes “poncing about.” Clara’s questions directed toward Kate don’t appear strange since she’s recently arrived on the scene, but we are clued into the fact that something is off when Clara tells Jac that she needs to stop by her apartment to “grab a couple of things.” At the apartment building, they are witness to a body being removed.

In Turmezistan, the Doctor introduces himself to UNIT soldiers as the “president of the world,” Doctor Funkenstein. He is, after all, the RockDoc. In Truth or Consequences, Kate finds one lone officer as resident, demanding where Kate’s back-up is. And back at home, Jac has found something very odd going on below London.

One of the most poignant scenes occurs in Turmezistan while troops are seeking to locate Osgood. Zygon shape-shifters successfully lure the troops into a building where they execute them. They lure them by assuming human shape, in one case, as the mother of one of the soldiers. Despite her inability to answer specific questions about him, the soldier cannot bring himself to shoot, and he and his men are executed. The Doctor does, however, find Osgood and is able to get her back aboard the plane.

Twists and Turns

Despite earlier clues that something as just not right about Clara, the twist in this plot takes us by surprise. Or, it did me. When I went back to watch the episode for the second time, the discrepancies in Clara’s responses earlier in the episdode became clear. Before the twist is revealed, we are treated to some fun aboard the plane when Osgood shows her fangirl stripes and asks the Doctor why he no longer wears the question marks. He quips back: “Oh, I do. I’ve got question mark underpants.” “Makes one wonder what the question is,” Osgood responds. The question is a good transition to the Doctor asking if she is the human Osgood or Zygon. The answer is, Osgood gives no definitive answer, but she does inform the Doctor and the viewing audience on Zygon shape-shifting updates.

Back under London, Clara and Jac stumble onto Zygon pods. When Jac figures out that they cannot be growing duplicates, but that the people in the pods are humans, Clara reveals herself as a Zygon. A flashback to the apartment scene shows that Clara was replaced with the shape-shifted Bonnie. The choice of name intrigued me. Bonnie can mean pretty (Scottish: a bonnie lass) or Bonnie is one of the names given to a mob girlfriend. The latter derives itself from Bonnie of Bonnie and Clyde. With Bonnie taking aim at what one would presume is the Doctor’s plane, she informs the Doctor that Clara and Kate are dead: truth or consequences. She definitely exhibits the callousness of Bonnie Parker, wife of Clyde Barrow and Jenna is almost more convincing in that role than in her role of Clara. Watching her next week will be interesting.

End Notes

Since the announcement that Jenna Coleman will be leaving Doctor Who, nearly every episode leaves the question of how Clara will exit dangling. This writer wishes that she didn’t know she was leaving. Then there would be no guessing what will happen and who will take her place. Reading through overviews and reviews this week, I found that there were those who wondered if Osgood would take her place, last week people wondered if Ashildr/Lady Me would take her place. The truth is that we don’t know what will occur yet, and guessing may be taking us out of the story at hand.

If I had the time, I would allocate more discussion for the allusions to other Who episodes and the way their links to this episode attempt to address plot continuity. But that would make this review far too long and I’d lose much of your interest. However, this leaves a lot of fodder for another day and room for another article or two or three.

The RockDoc appears to be here to stay for the season. Capaldi is growing into his role and making this regeneration his own. His on-screen antics during even dramatic or intense scenes make him at once both human and alien. Tennant and Smith had an ability for bringing levity to intense new Who situations as well, yet each of the three have their own particular style of doing so – Tennant with charm, Smith with bumbling, and Capaldi with a mature and somewhat detached sense of confidence, or arrogance, however you choose to look at it. Whatever flavor Doctor you choose as favorite, they are all variations on a same theme.

Pertaining to this episode in particular, how could Clara have missed 127 phone calls? Why didn’t Kate bring back-up with her to Truth or Consequences, NM? Doesn’t that seem odd that the head of UNIT would not have back-up with her? Why was it so easy, once in the building, for the Doctor to have had unchallenged access to freeing Osgood? Finally, I like Osgood, don’t get me wrong, but this writer may be one of the few people that is not clamoring to have her on board more permanently in order to see a succession of past regeneration cosplays. It’s been a novelty, but one that would likely grow old.

I have heard from a good source that next week’s episode is stellar and that Capaldi rocks! As the RockDoc should.

Tags clara osw, d12, doctor who, osgood, peter capaldi, peter harness, terror of the zygons, zygon

Essay

The Woman Who Lived: Nightmare to Knightmare

Post author By Rene Schwiesow
Post date October 27, 2015
No Comments on The Woman Who Lived: Nightmare to Knightmare

Maisie Williams’ performance in “The Woman Who Lived” is testimony to her acting ability. In one week’s time, she was able to take Ashildr through centuries of shifts and changes, and we could feel those in the development of her personality—from the pain and anguish, to her need to shut down emotion, to the disavowal of her own name. I have read criticism that indicated Ashildr’s propensity for storytelling and her headstrong conviction was lost this week. I would disagree. We see her storytelling written out in her journals. She needs the story to remind her of her life. We see her headstrong conviction in nearly every action. Granted it has shifted from the honorable Ashildr of her village, but she remains steadfastly headstrong in her pursuits. And what definitely remains is the ambiguity. Ashildr never was nor will she ever be boxed into a stereotypical gender role. If there was ever a case for Carl Jung‘s anima/animus it is Ashildr. Jung said: “The anima is a personification of all feminine tendencies in a man’s psyche …;” thus, the animus is the personification of all masculine tendencies in a woman.” We begin assuming gender identity and role in childhood, and many of us exhibit our assigned gender in myriad ways throughout our lifetime. But, according to Jung, the suppressed gender is always there, beneath the surface, wanting its time. Ashildr, now Lady Me, expresses both feminine and masculine characteristics somewhat fluidly. The opening sequence places her in a masculine role as highway robber, complete with male voice (how did she perfect that?). Yet it is clear, once the mask and the hat come off, that her feminine characteristics are also still in place. Gender and/or androgyny could be discussed at length based on “The Girl Who Died/The Woman Who Lived.” There will be further allusion to the discussion in this review, but it deserves perhaps, a paper of its own. I find it interesting that her male persona comes forth when she is wearing a mask.

Back to the opening sequence, the Doctor bumbles onto the robbery in progress and pays little mind to the gun that Ashildr, called the Knightmare by the townspeople, wields. There is plenty of humor in the sequence including the Doctor asking to share the robbery, “Isn’t that what robbery is all about?” In the meantime the stage coach takes advantage of the quibbling between Knightmare and Doctor and takes off into the night. The Doctor accuses Knightmare of hiding behind the mask, which is then removed to reveal the woman he granted immortality, who wonders aloud, “What took you so long, old man?” And so begins her begging the Doctor to take her with him, to get her out of the world he abandoned her to, without so much as a primer on the struggles of immortality.

In the Mix

Unprepared for immortality, Ashildr has been clearly affected by the difficulties it represents. She has no spaceship, no means for speedy travel, and living as an immortal bound to the mortal life clearly has disadvantages with which the Doctor is not entirely familiar. Ashildr has become resourceful, wise, manipulative out of necessity, changed her name to Me, and is unhappy. She longs for the ability to get out of her perceived prison. She is searching for the same amulet that the Doctor searches for in hopes that it will open up a portal to a new and better world for herself. She is desperate. Desperation and a headstrong will are not the best of partners.

The library room filled with Lady Me’s personal journals is a visual account of the experiences that occur over centuries of life. And those accounts become poignant as the Doctor reads from the journals, making note of pages that have been torn out (“When things get really bad, I tear the memories out”), and the traumatic experiences that have been part of Lady Me’s transition from innocent to disillusioned and cynical. She blames the Doctor for her misery and seeks to remind him that he is the reason she has become uncaring and addicted to adrenalin producing activities that give her something other than painful memories.

Many of the conversations between the Doctor and Lady Me are of great import. While the two of them hide during a break in, she asks him about Clara, pushes him to respond to the question of how many Claras he has lost. Clara, we heard in the opening sequence, is off taking taekwondo and the Doctor shares that she is usually the person who stops him from ignoring important situations, as every companion did. Lady Me seeks to drive home the point of losing those who are close and, if the Doctor’s expression is indication, she hits the designated nerve.

After getting out of a tight squeeze at the house (literally as they are up the chimney), the Doctor continues his didactic conversation intended to shake Lady Me from her dangerous and disingenuous habits. Lady Me dodges every point with her own well-designed comebacks. While “The Woman Who Lived” is easily one of the best episodes that we have seen, there are quibbles that prove to be minor annoyances. For example, camera shots of hanging posts while the Doctor and Lady Me discuss hanging are superfluous and unnecessary, and may be a distraction instead.

“The Woman Who Lived” is clearly a different Who ballgame. Though there is a “monster” who seeks to harm, the biggest monsters in the room are the two (make that three) lonely hearts of our protagonists. The show’s impact comes through their personal exploration and sharing rather than through sci-fi effect. In fact, the moments that sci-fi comes into play take us out of the drama with a somewhat jarring reminder that a template has been shifted. The deep-seeking tension between the Doctor and Lady Me almost caused me to find it unnecessary to mention that Lady Me was playing both sides: Leandro and the Doctor. Yet mentioning it serves to show that desperate people engage in desperate measures.

Though gender questioning appears to be part of the mix, the script projects Lady Me’s use of feminine wiles if she feels they may be helpful. When she asks the Doctor how she looks, it appears that she has taken the time to present herself as woman, though the effect is lost on the Doctor. He replies that she’s looking “pink” and wonders if she’s coming down with something. And, boom, we are thrown back into a stereotypical gender assignment—woman does what she can to look good for man and man doesn’t notice. This is taken further when Lady Me indicates that she has played Leandro against the Doctor: “I’m looking for a horse to get me out of town. You said no.” She’s not a gold-digger, but an amulet, take me away from this horrible life digger. May the best man win?

Making Points

One of the more poignant conversations between the Doctor and Lady Me is the question of his running away. “I’m stuck here, abandoned by the one man who should know what eternity feels like. . .Do you ever think, or care, what happens after you’ve flown away? I live in the world you leave behind, because you’ve abandoned me to it.” The Doctor comes back by indicating that she owns the “rust” of her heart. And, rightly so, she does. But that does not negate the reflection on his reaction to difficult situations—the running away.

At the Gallows and the Watering Hole

The need to accept personal responsibility is brought home when the villagers are attacked and Ashildr’s original compassion comes through, her horror at the potential death of the defenseless. Lenny the Lion’s true colors are revealed exactly as the Doctor predicted. He makes it clear that he had been using Lady Me the entire time after she callously snuffs out the life of Sam Swift to open the portal. Reality can be a bitter, bitter pill. Faced with no other recourse, Ashildr must share her immortality patch with the deceased to stop the carnage and close the portal. She does this without question. Why is it that it frequently takes a disaster, a death, or destruction to wake a person from their cynical slumber? The joi de vivre that is so evident in Sam Swift rejoining life serves as a powerful lesson for the Doctor to share with Ashildr. They need the mayflies, the ordinary people whose lives appear redundant and boring, people who make mistakes but continue to move forward. They need the mayflies to remind them of the beauty and magic in life. Ashildr doesn’t necessarily buy his diatribe—is this a question of wizened and wise Doctor talking to still young, idealistic, relatively new immortal? Ashildr, however, has a point when she says that someone has to look out for the people the Doctor leaves behind, or abandons as Ashildr puts it.

Back to Life as the Doctor Knows It

Enter RockDoc on the guitar and Clara through the TARDIS door—seeming normalcy in both their lives. The Doctor has missed Clara; Clara has missed the Doctor and is ready for their next adventure. He views a selfie of Clara and a student that shows Ashildr in the background. Yes, she will return. At close we see that the Doctor and Clara bring each other comfort—but based on the Doctor’s long-lived regenerations, how long can this be possible? How long before Clara leaves or dies? How long is it possible for any of us to find comfort in those we care for and love? Life is short; life is fleeting, but the joi de vivre and comfort in the moments with others may very well be worth the briefness of this mortal life.

End Notes

“The Woman Who Lived” was written by Catherine Tregenna (the first female writer for Doctor Who in six years), who has also written for Torchwood. She was faced with a challenge in writing a powerful episode to follow “The Girl Who Died,” and in this writer’s view, she not only rose to the challenge but surpassed it.

The episode was dramatic, yet maintained humorous aspects that served their purpose well. Sam Swift lent a great deal to the gallows scene with his ability to put off the end by doing stand-up comedy—a mirror for life. Frequently we see those in fear or pain cover with humor. But Sam isn’t the only purveyor of comedy. During the opening sequence, the Doctor provides a humorous entrance juxtaposed against the more serious note of the Knightmare. Though he quickly turns his typical, bumbling self from comedian to older teacher/mentor/father figure.

If you let this episode enter your veins, there will be much to take away from the interplay between the characters. This is not your typical sci-fi episode. Ashildr is a perfect example of seeing the world from where we are entangled, rather than as it is. The Doctor knows this. She will be on his heels, however, growing and learning as she travels the vastness of eternity from her mortal to immortal perspective.

Essay

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

Post author By David Marshall
Post date October 23, 2015
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“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

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?

Tags ashildr, capital one, d12, electric eel, immortality, jamie mathieson, lobus caecilius, maisie williams, mire, monty python, norse mythology, peter capaldi, season 9, vikings

Essay

Before the Flood: Quantum Depths

Post author By Rene Schwiesow
Post date October 13, 2015
No Comments on Before the Flood: Quantum Depths

What fourth wall? The TARDIS is bigger on the inside, but is it big enough to allow millions a front-row seat to the Doctor as he walks the corridors narrating fairy tales and admonishing viewers to google bootstrap paradox, which may be necessary knowledge to unravel the knots in the rest of the episode? In addition, the opening segment provides a convenient avenue for Peter Capaldi, aka the RockDoc, to bring out the guitar again. Given Capaldi’s musical roots and his ability to play the guitar, this may be a recurring incident. Despite the somewhat disconnected feel of the narration from the story, the opener in “Before the Flood” did command attention. Murray Gold’s rock version of the Doctor Who theme was a nice touch.

In the stew

Mix mythology, physics, and the appearance of potential paranormal apparitions and what do you get? You get the second episode of the two-parter “Under the Lake/Before the Flood,” written by Toby Whitehouse. While Who’s Fisher King has nothing to do with the Holy Grail, he does have a similarity with the Arthurian legend. The mythological “wounded king” waits for someone to heal him, while Who’s Fisher King waits to be saved, to be returned home, in essence to heal from a perceived death and removal from his planet. Our hero goes back in time to the city before it flooded to find the spaceship from “Under the Lake” and eventually comes face-to-face with the Fisher King. But not before he meets the undertaker from Tivoli, still alive, passing out cards, and using a blatant reference to S&M that makes one wonder if R.T. Davies was whispering in Whitehouse’s ear during the scripting.

Confronting the Fisher King

Bennett and O’Donnell, two members of an underwater base called the Drum, have accompanied the Doctor on this fact-seeking trip. O’Donnell is a warm and straight-forward fan of the Doctor and isn’t about to be treated like the female assistant left behind to watch the office. Since she’s already been demoted once for dangling a colleague from an open window, it seems reasonable that the Doctor allow her to go. Yet, after we find out that the Doctor knew she was next on the list to be killed we are left wondering (and maybe a bit angry) that he was not more persuasive in her remaining behind in the TARDIS. When O’Donnell decides to split away from the Doctor and Bennett, her demise appears to be imminent. The Fisher King finds and kills her in an abandoned building. Bennett is heartbroken and accuses the Doctor of using O’Donnell as an experiment. Did he? Why does her ghost return to the underwater base? And why does she take Clara’s phone? Despite the annoyance, the easy answer is that it was convenient to the plot because the Doctor wanted Clara to keep the phone close. Is this another instance of “accept it” as was implied in the “Witch’s Familiar?”

The more complex answer is that the Fisher King was directing the movement of his electromagnetic minions through sound vibration. Given the consistent use of electromagnetic radiation in this two-parter, the more complex answer is, perhaps, more plausible. The use of Vector in Vector Petroleum was not random, but further affirmation of the physics. Doctor Who, after all, has a history of promoting science. And Michael Faraday (ah, yes, the Faraday cage) was the scientist behind the vector field.

Science tangent aside, after a discussion with Clara, the Doctor sends Bennett back to the TARDIS and makes his plans to confront the Fisher King. It appears that the Fisher King has the Doctor in a corner, but in traditional Who fashion, he comes roaring back with power. Did anybody else wonder why the Fisher King simply listened in silence? The Doctor tricks the Fisher King into believing that the message in the ship has been erased and he strides out of the building to check on the ship while the Doctor hijacks the suspended animation chamber and ends up back at the underwater base. Seriously? How? Clearly the Doctor did a lot of off-screen planning, including programming the TARDIS to return to the underwater base, bringing Bennett back to safety.

Meanwhile back at the Ship, Timey-Wimeyness, and Paradoxes

Clara holds court with Cass and Lunn in the Faraday cage. Her assessment is that Lunn does not have the homing words imprinted and that he should go retrieve her cell phone. After heated communication from Cass and the only vocal utterance she issues in the two-parter, an anguished “No,” Lunn leaves the Faraday cage. Up to this point, it could have been said that Cass was not only deaf but mute. When she utters “No,” I am left wondering why she hasn’t spoken words before and why she didn’t use words when left alone with Clara sans sign interpreter. Lunn encounters the ghosts who appear to assess him, but then let him pass. He finds the phone on a table in the cafeteria and is promptly locked inside the room by the ghosts. When he doesn’t return in a timely fashion to the Faraday cage, Cass and Clara take off to look for him and end up separating. One of the eeriest scenes of the episode ensues when the ghost of Moran follows Cass down a corridor dragging the axe. The sound of the axe dragging its metal against metal is not heard by the deaf Cass. When the camera shows us her perspective, there is no sound. The sound returns when she moves forward and the audience sees the ghost once again. As the ghost gets closer, Cass’ other senses kick in and her intuition tells her something is near. She reaches down and touches the floor to feel for vibration (shown well on film) and is horrified to realize that danger is so close. She turns and runs through the ghost projection before he can get her with the axe.

The two women end up in the cafeteria with Lunn and when the ghost projections enter through the walls, the trio makes a run for the Faraday cage. Before they get there they encounter the doctor exiting the suspended animation chamber. He has arranged for a sound projection of the Fisher King’s howl emanating from his holographic projection. The howl draws the ghosts into the Faraday cage where they are entrapped.

The Doctor debriefs the remaining crew. This included explaining how he used a holographic projection of himself as ghost to manipulate situations on the ship for their benefit. The philosophy that time is not linear serves its purpose well during this episode, because the tangle of cause and effect that leads to the ultimate capture of the ghosts is definitely timey-wimey. If “Before the Flood” does nothing else it makes good use of the bootstrap paradox or causal loop. If you were confused by the opening Beethoven scene, you were probably not alone. Embracing paradox is not always easy to do. Suffice it to say that if something did not happen in the past, a time traveler could go back and create its occurrence, which would affect outcomes in the future. From the quantum timey-wimey perspective, is this a sci-fi device or could this be reality?

Only Love is Real

We were treated to two romances in “Before the Flood.” There was no real prior evidence for the romance between Bennett and O’Donnell that became prominent with the tragic death of O’Donnell. But when we go back and consider events, there was plenty of evidence for the underlying romance between Cass and Lunn. Life lessons serve no purpose unless they change us and/or allow us to help others see things a bit more clearly. Bennett took full advantage of that, utilizing his grief to point out wasted time to Lunn. Apparently Bennett knew of Lunn’s love for Cass, which Lunn had never expressed to her. Yes, Doctor Who, can affect life from an social commentary perspective and from a social/emotional perspective. In a measured plea, Bennett tells Lunn: “Tell her that you’re in love with her and you always have been. Tell her there’s no point in wasting time. Because things happen and then it’s too late.” Lunn is at first taken aback by the suggestion, but does translate these words to Cass (who may have already known them through reading Bennett’s lips). When she hesitates to respond, Lunn begins to falter indicating that he was only translating Bennett’s words, but Cass grabs him and kisses him. From this writer’s perspective, if one person is awakened to the fragility of life, if one person realizes that they have taken someone for granted, if one person accepts the genuine love of another into their life, the scripting of these lines will have been well worth it. For these characters, and for so many other people, Clara’s words to the Doctor are true: “You’ve made yourself essential to me. You’ve given me something else to be.” And that is beautiful.

End Notes

Critical discussion for “Before the Flood” varies. There are those who loathe the episode, those who are meh in regard to it, those who found it worth viewing but acknowledge the faults, and those who loved it. I am among those who found it worth viewing, but acknowledge that there are faults, questions, and aspects that are difficult to disentangle if not downright confusing. The writing was experimental, perhaps, in some places and the plot full of challenges. The measure of success lies in whether or not Whitehouse was able to create a successful end to his two-parter. Success may not be seen only in perfect continuity. Perhaps, success can be seen in the ability for an episode to provide further discussion and/or questions. Perhaps, success can be seen in the great number of people who may have taken the Doctor’s words to heart and googled bootstrap paradox. Perhaps, success will be seen in the number of Who fans prompted to pull up back episodes to search for continuity. And perhaps success will be seen in those who examine the relationships between the characters and apply their connections to the relationships in their own lives. Fiction can provide the words and scenes we need to move feet and mountains.

Tags bootstrap paradox, clara oswald, d12, electromagnetics, faraday cage, fisher king, michael faraday, quantum physics, quantum theory, season 9, timey wimey, tivoli, tivolian, toby whitehouse

Essay

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

Post author By David Marshall
Post date October 7, 2015
1 Comment on 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?

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?

Tags Akira Kurosawa, carjacking, d12, daleks, ergonomics, handmine, hyman roth, japanese culture, john woo, moral ambiguity, peter capaldi, republic pictures, Reservoir Dogs, skaro, thals, the godfather, Toshiro Mifune, yojimbo

Essay

Under the Lake: Energy Never Dies

Post author By Rene Schwiesow
Post date October 4, 2015
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Niels Bohr would be intrigued by Toby Whitehouse’s refreshing, back-to-the-basics episode. “Under the Lake” is far less “accept it” showy entertainment and more sci-fi story. What a novel concept for Doctor Who. Whitehouse has an ongoing history with the show. He began writing episodes in 2006 (“School Reunion“), beginning under Russell T. Davies and continuing under Steven Moffat. And for that, the Who fandom is grateful. He has frequently been touted as a potential successor when Moffat leaves. Currently, however, Whitehouse keeps himself busy with his own projects, including BBC Three’s Being Human.

Closing in on the Halloween season, Whitehouse chose to offer us a ghost story. And who knew the Tardis would be afraid of ghosts? Then again, it’s far more likely that she’s afraid of the electromagnetic energy of the ghosts rather than any supernatural powers. Imagine if the ghosts entered into the Tardis and could wreak havoc with the electrical system? We open the episode with the Doctor knowing that she is unsettled, while Clara tries to convince him to leave for another adventure (one would think that Clara knows that where they land adventure will follow). The Tardis is so frightened of the ghosts that later in the episode the Doctor has to throw on the hand brake.

I was confused that the two ghosts the Doctor and Clara first encountered were merely curious and did not attempt to kill them. (And I was more confused later in the episode when a ghost chooses not to kill another crew member.) Given the storyline, it appears that they were programmed to kill in order to convert and harness more energy. Perhaps, I thought, there was some supernatural, metaphysical aspect of them that took over in order to lead the Doctor and Clara to the ship. Then, sadly disappointed that the Doctor was not able to immediately assist, they went into aggressive mode. Then it hit me, none of these characters had yet been into the space ship when they first encountered the ghosts. Quibble resolved.

From the get-go, I felt a nuanced difference in Clara and the Doctor’s characters and found it both intriguing and beneficial to their working together as a team. The Doctor introduces himself by use of psychic paper that declares him UNIT and lets everyone know that he’s in charge in an oh, so subtle way (“So, who’s in charge now? I need to know who to ignore.”). Simulated day returns and the underwater team (which includes the insufferable, greedy Pritchard), the Doctor, and Clara gather in the control room to conference. The Doctor, as we know, has few filters. He has rarely been known for the ability to engage in what is considered appropriate social interaction, and endearingly we see that Clara has devised cue cards. Of course, they cannot be beneficial if read verbatim. Throughout the episode, it appeared that the connection between Clara and the Doctor flowed more easily and each character felt a bit more defined. Or, have I lost my mind? I have read one other account wherein the author would take issues with this contention. The scene in the Tardis where the Doctor reminds Clara that there is only one of him and that he has a duty of care, is in my humble opinion, geared toward definition. And you have to admit that the Doctor’s lovable arrogance shined brightly. This may be my personal perception and other viewers will have their reactions and preferences to this scene.

Far be it from me to ever say that Doctor Who contains social commentary (but it does). It certainly seemed appropriate that Pritchard was flushed out of the ship after leaving to seek the missing power cell strictly for monetary reasons. Who else guffawed when his early response to the Doctor about leaving the ship was: “…It’s not them that lost a bonus.” Of course the Doctor’s brilliant response was: “It’s ok, I understand. You’re an idiot.”

Things are made more interesting by the symbols that have been found inside the ship. We are shown that once they are looked at they register on the eye. Later, we find out that their magnetic imprint programs the individual so that when dead, the words (which are coordinates) will be repeated over and over as transmission. Without the imprint, an individual would be useless. Brilliant. I want to meet the species that designed that.

I should state that the Doctor doesn’t believe that ghosts are a natural phenomenon. Or didn’t. Or doesn’t. And the way that he announces that the “monsters” are ghosts is every bit what my idea of the 12^th Doctor is — frequently oblivious to others. Typically it does not appear that this is an intentional slight of others, it may be that the Doctor is simply so lost within his own processing that he frequently dismisses what others say even if there may be some underlying sense. Or am I romanticizing this potential fault? We have likely all encountered people like this and it can be annoying, but the Doctor’s character tends to make it embraceable on some level.

From a paranormal perspective, it is thought that ghosts have the ability to manipulate energy and electricity. From a quantum physics perspective, energy never dies, it simply changes form and that form remains part of the four fundamental reactions. The ghosts that plague our characters in “Under the Lake” had the ability to manipulate the system controls to bring on night and give them an advantage in being able to use the ship against its inhabitants. Were ghosts actually at play? Or is there an intelligent being who is able to harness the shifted energy of the dead?

Indeed, Whitehouse has taken us back to basics. A base under siege story with plenty of walks/runs down dark corridors and a storyline where the characters can shine through performance and dialogue was a perfect prescription. Visuals, production, and direction may remind many fans of classic Who as well as an allusion or two to modern Who. The Doctor and Clara saying good-bye through porthole windows, behind flood doors, reminded me of the Doctor and Donna saying hello through windows (Series 4, first episode, “Partners in Crime“). Throughout the entirety of Doctor Who, the Doctor and his companion have been partners. Whitehouse made this connection apparent, once again, in “Under the Lake.” I couldn’t help but wonder if his I’m the only Doctor reminder to Clara was a throw-back to the Doctor Donna days. And, by the way, who knew that Clara wrote songs?

A poignant part of the episode is that the individual next in charge following the death of the commander of the base is deaf (as is Sophie Stone, the actor who portrays her). Through the use of sign and her interpreter she was both quiet and vocal when necessary in order to lead. Though the Doctor appeared to dismiss her, along with the others, when issuing his own orders, he was very aware of her thought processes and, perhaps, some heightened intuitive sensitivities. She knew it was unsafe to go into the space ship and insisted that her interpreter not go, why? She realized that the symbols in the ship were not merely words or symbols. Again, not to overplay social commentary, but is this a nod to accepting disability in the social structure, rather than labeling or ostracizing?

Having said that, it is thought-provoking and irritating that the one black member of the crew gets about 15 seconds of air-time, and is then killed. There is an unfortunate history in Doctor Who with black, male characters receiving the short end of the stick. Is the BBC really oblivious to this fact?

Overall, this episode was a refreshing drink of water and, thankfully, not the poisoned water on “The Water of Mars.” We stay alive quite well through the ghostly ordeal and the quibbles are few. Those storyline quibbles that may exist can wait until the second of this two-parter where they will hopefully be resolved. I, personally, found that the dots were easier to connect in this Whitehouse episode and that far fewer dots went missing. On to next Saturday — Geronimo!

Sophie Stone talks about “Under the Lake”

Tags d12, fundamental interactions, niels bohr, peter capaldi, quantum theory, season 9, toby whitehouse, UNIT

Essay

The Magician’s Apprentice: From Kahn to Skaro

Post author By David Marshall
Post date September 24, 2015
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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?

Essay

The Problems of Steven Moffat

Post author By Samuel Marshall
Post date July 26, 2015
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Collage of Danny Pink magically jumping over a Skovox Blitzer in "The Caretaker"

Steven Moffat has been the showrunner and head writer of Doctor Who since 2010, when Russell T Davies left the show. The first Doctor that he wrote for was Matt Smith, and he continued in the 8th season with Peter Capaldi. As a writer under Davies, Moffat wrote award-winning stories: “The Empty Child”/”The Doctor Dances,” “The Girl in the Fireplace,” “Time Crash,” and “Silence In The Library“/”Forest of the Dead.” Since running both Doctor Who and Sherlock, critics say his work suffers from being spread too thin.

Most of Moffat’s episode endings don’t make sense. For instance, in the very beginning of “Listen,” The Doctor is writing with a piece chalk. When he puts it down, the chalk disappears and the word “listen” is written on a chalkboard. This is supposedly written by the “perfect hider,” a monster The Doctor is speculating about that causes mysterious events seen later throughout the episode. Later on, The Doctor states that everyone throughout history has the same dream, at some point in their lives, that is caused by the “perfect hider” somehow. In the end the truth is revealed: there was never a monster. The dream was caused by Clara Oswald, who grabbed The Doctor’s leg as a child in the night and gave him that dream. And…I guess gave everyone else the dream too. How can this even happen? Unless Clara grabbed every single person’s leg in the universe, it’s impossible. This entire ending is just one big plot hole.

Another problem I see in Moffat’s writing is that some of the episode subplots are entirely messed up. As an example, I will be using the episode “The Caretaker” (co-written with Gareth Roberts). The Doctor was trying to capture the Skovox Blitzer by placing devices around the school to send it billions of years in the future. If The Doctor really wanted no one to notice the devices he placed to trap the monster, he probably shouldn’t have put flashing green lights on them. And if he really needed those lights, he could have at least told the school staff not to mess with them. And Danny Pink, who removed the devices from where they were placed, shouldn’t mess with things in the first place, especially if he doesn’t know what they do. And when they finally do encounter the monster, towards the end of the fight when The Doctor is preparing the analog for the Skovox Blitzer, Danny runs at the robot and jumps over it to distract it so it doesn’t shoot The Doctor. The robot (instead of turning around) could have just shot The Doctor first then dealt with the rest of them. And there was DEFINITELY a trampoline under Danny in that scene.

And on top of that are the speeches. Moffat apparently loves writing completely useless, overly sappy speeches. Poor Peter Capaldi! In the episode “Into the Dalek,” after The Doctor repairs the Dalek, he acknowledges the fact that all he did was fix it. Clara then uses this time to yell at him to try harder. However, the way she did this is in an incredibly long and drawn out cliched speech. The result would have been exactly the same had she just told him not to give up. The only reason for that speech is to waste our time and torment the actors. I think they should just remake the classic Doctor Who episodes with today’s special effects. Then, Steven Moffat can stop ruining the show.

Tags d12, season 8, steven moffat