Lacking my favorite literary-pretentious expositions of Doctor Who episodes since the end of Series Two, I have decided to try my hand. Thankfully, the US is only three weeks or so behind the UK this time around, although the Christmas special was nearly four months back.
The big question we (the fans) faced going into this was simple enough. Where do we go from here? Mr. “No Second Chances” gave the Daleks a second chance (at least, Dalek Sec, RIP). The Doctor who told Rose he was “coming to get her” lost his regeneration getting her; the second one made greater promises and seems to have lost his soul when he lost her. If there’s one thing that we should have learned last Christmas, it was this: the Doctor is no human. Humans need time to heal. Timelords apparently are so independent of time that they can bury Rose alive and sniffling at Bad Wolf Bay and then deliver huon-charged screaming comediennes from their own sad lives. And ultimately the Doctor and Martha saved the world, by sacrificing the people who lived until the end of it. After the Toclafane were gone, after the Doctor discovers that a con man will live longer than he will and travel in time more than he does (and become his only friend)… then we have Timecrash.
And Timecrash itself was the usual semi-canonical fan service, and it cheered me up for all that. They nicely explained the apparent age of the Fifth Doctor (and for all that, I think Peter Davison was remarkably well-preserved). “Love and Monsters” references can’t fail to make me smile; I still think that that was one of the best episodes of the rebooted series. But there was something about Timecrash that may or may not bode well for Series Four: it was a mashup of the most manic, apparently-superficial Doctor (Ten) and the most serious (Five, although Seven could have tied with him for that title, and Nine gave them both a run for their money). Five didn’t travel much for fun; all Ten did was travel for fun. Five started with Nyssa and Adric, saw Adric die and Nyssa leave, and ended with Peri (of all people). 
But there are eerie similarities: Five almost didn’t make it through his own regeneration, and neither did Ten. Five lost Adric, Ten lost Rose. Neither had much truck with Gallifrey (although Ten didn’t have much choice, if we understand the paradox of the Time War correctly). It was appropriate, perhaps, that Five disdained Ten upon meeting him (and didn’t recognize his, shall we say, Timelordliness). There are holes, though; I suspect that Five should have noticed the clear signs on the TARDIS that it hadn’t been in for proper maintenance in… well, however long it had been since the Time War, at any rate. But it is hard to know what Five could perceive.
Presumably Timecrash didn’t happen, except in Five’s memory of the event, because the Christmas special launches practically from Martha walking out the door (with the Doctor not even trying to look Stoic about it) to the crash through the TARDIS wall. Just as well, since those of us outside BBC’s viewing area could only have seen it because of Youtube (at least until the DVDs come out).
The Doctor can’t get a break. Or, perhaps it is better to say that his breaks always come after Christmas. A flip of a switch and the TARDIS repairs itself (and presumably any damage in space and time to what appears to be the Titanic), and then materializes inside the ship. The Doctor puts on the now-venerable tuxedo and tries to blend in.
The tuxedo alone is a sort of meta-harbinger. The first time he wore it, he was helping cater a party at Pete and Jackie’s house in Pete’s World, just before the revelation of the Cybermen (which end up bringing about Doomsday). The second time, he was attending the reception at which Dr. Lazarus mutated into that scorpion thing (which was the precursor to the technology the Master used on the Doctor to age him at the end of Series Three). So, if the symbols persist, something about this episode is going to bring about the end of all that’s good and holy, near the end of Series Four.
While we’re at it, I’m sure everybody else is playing this game, so we need to play it too. What is the Repeated Meme of Series Four? One was Bad Wolf, which was Rose. Two was Torchwood, which is what took Rose away. Three was Mister Saxon, or “Master No. Six” for those playing at home (and Davies has denied that he meant that). The denouement of the last two Christmas specials included the meme which brought about the end (Torchwood/London destroyed the Sycorax ship, and Mister Saxon ordered the destruction of the Christmas Star). So, we find ourselves keeping our eyes open. What is it this time? Is it something connected to Her Majesty’s government again? Or are we going to run closer to the spinoffs this time? Are we going to dovetail with Torchwood/Cardiff (since rumor has it Captain Jack Harkness will be back) or with Sarah Jane Smith (again, rumors) and her own series? Is UNIT involved? (It wasn’t mentioned as far as I know, but Martha has apparently joined them, if I understand a few of the Torchwood synopses correctly.) We have been told that it won’t be words this time, but each episode will introduce an idea that will play into the finale in some way.
What about the biggest rumor of all, that the Bad Wolf herself is coming back for an episode or three? Who would have thought that Torchwood/Canary-Wharf-in-Pete’s-World could factor in?
Interesting that Captain Jack thought so highly of Rose, even before he knew that his predicament was her fault.
Anyway, back to our story. The Doctor starts to mingle and immediately finds himself drawn to… the blonde. There’s a shock. Of course, it’s in the context of helping her after another guest treats her rudely. Perhaps this is just his reconnaissance pose, making someone feel obligated to him to get the human viewpoint. It’s not like he couldn’t have just walked over to the live-picture-frame of Max Capricorn from the start with the sonic screwdriver and gotten everything he needed to know.
How come so many of the Doctor Who robots are so annoying? Do the Host really need to start each sentence with “<bing> Information“? Does the aesthetic of the future really stink so much? But then again, the universe of the Timelords never seemed to have a good handle on robot personalities. Even the best of them were “daft metal dogs” who barely concealed their superiority complexes (and I say this as somebody who loves K-9). So many of the worst evils in both old and new Doctor Who serials can be measured by how much of a machine they are. Daleks are trapped inside metal bodies, “always screaming.” Cybermen believe that their machinismo makes them better, “upgrades.” Even the Toclafane are cyborgs. So few of the bad guys are purely organic, like the Jagrafess or the Krillitaine or the Family of Blood. And they wonder why people with machine parts need a civil rights movement? This reminds me of Obi-Wan’s comment in Episode V that Vader is “more machine than man, now.” And when Doctor Who reminds me of Star Wars, things have become glum indeed.
Speaking of, I like Bannakaffalatta. Just once, though, I’d like to see a Little Person or the sci-fi equivalent be strong and deep-voiced. There’s no reason for them to be Munchkins, nor Oompa-Loompas. Did only Peter Jackson get this right? But even he made dwarf jokes. You can tell that the Doctor tries to take him seriously (otherwise he might have looked the other way when the tour group were about to teleport to Earth).
Listening to Mr. Copper drone on about Earth customs at Christmas was a little ironic, considering that this season we are apparently going to be treated to a guest appearance by Richard Dawkins of all people. We smile at Copper’s characterization of our customs, because he alternately can’t make sense out of archaeology, and thinks that we must have been primitive idiots… but that’s the mistake that atheists make all the time. Primitive people believe in Santa (and Mary) Claus, and eat Turks for dinner. They also think that somebody could make the world in six days and rise from the dead. Well, considering we have a comedienne for a companion, why not have another for a guest star? And all this in the midst of more religious imagery that you can shake a crucifix at. I’m not sure if I liked the ascension better than the Peter Pan moment in “Last of the Time Lords” or not.
Oops, getting ahead of myself.
I was happy to see that the world had continued to change as it realized that the alien threat was real. Of course, this makes one wonder why Torchwood and UNIT and even LINDA are still secret. London deserted at Christmas… but all the lights left on, and no looters. And apparently no aftermath from the fall of Saxon’s government? He would have only been in office a few days, I guess, but still, what happened there? And when is election day in Britain, or does it depend on when Harriet Jones’ government fell? No, there must have been some sort of interim after she left office. But it seemed to me that it wasn’t Christmas when Martha, Captain Jack, and the Doctor parted company. While we’re on the subject, I hope you noticed that if it hadn’t been for the Doctor getting his petty revenge on Harriet Jones (who, in retrospect, should be seen as having made the best choice possible for Britain by ordering the destruction of the Sycorax ship), there may not have been a place in the government for Harold Saxon. Ultimately the Slitheen appear to have brought about the Year that Never Was and the rise and death of the penultimate Timelord. Who would have thought? They indirectly saved the world by providing Nine and Jack with the “tribophysical waveform macro-kinetic extrapolator” (used as a shield to keep the Daleks from destroying the TARDIS in “Parting of the Ways,” and also to make sure that the TARDIS is physically landed elsewhere to avoid problems in “The Runaway Bride”), and therefore also brought about Jack’s immortality (and therefore the events of “New Earth” and “Gridlock” and everything that may have happened in the Torchwood spinoff) and Donna Noble’s continued existence (which will no doubt be important in Series Four). Assuming that Jack has an effect on Torchwood’s future, that must factor into “The Impossible Planet” and “The Satan Pit” as well, which means that the encounter with the Ood (another oldie but goodie that’s coming back for Series Four) was also brought about… by the Slitheen.
After all that, all we get from that is (a) people don’t stay in London at Christmas, and (b) some people still don’t know that anything happened (cf. Donna’s apparently missing every alien contact because she was drunk). But Her Majesty and some guy who sells newspapers are still in London.
Then everybody’s back (after Astrid Peth showers the Doctor with affection for a two-minute trip in which she got to experience the fact that alien worlds stink), and the Doctor realizes that something is wrong.
Let’s fast-forward a bit to the moment where the Doctor thinks that he can get everybody to the TARDIS, and then sees it drifting out of the hold and down to Earth. This could have been either explained away, or poignant, but for some reason it’s neither. First, can’t he apply some power source (perhaps the sonic screwdriver) to his TARDIS key and rematerialize it around that, a la “Father’s Day”? Second, let’s say he can’t. Does he feel no sense of loss? I mean, we have been at pains to note that this is the last TARDIS in the universe (”Age of Steel”), and he watches it fall to earth with only a pained look at the inconvenience? Or has he lost the TARDIS so many times that it doesn’t matter (”The Impossible Planet,” “42,” the last three episodes of Series Three)? Is he so convinced that he doesn’t need the TARDIS, or that somehow he will always get back to it, that he doesn’t care? I can’t see not mourning the loss, myself.
And then his authority is challenged by Rickston Slade, the rich guy, and oh, how Tennant tries to pull off that “that’s the kind of man I am” look — the vengeful Doctor of “The Family of Blood,” or maybe even the made-of-awesome Nine delivering his last ultimatum to the Daleks before rescuing Rose. And it falls flat. It was sad to watch. Things like this make me wonder if the show can keep going like this. Maybe if they hadn’t mentioned Kasterborous, or the fact that he’s 903 years old (as opposed to 953 years old as the Seventh Doctor; can anybody explain this?), it would have worked. But maybe that was the point.
It’s probably about time that I get to my point. I think we are now beginning to be shown just how ridiculous the Doctor is. He has been the hero, the “lonely god,” and all that nonsense, but Donna told him in “Bride” that he needed someone to stop him, and if she’s the one to do it, then this series will be how he stops. Not stops being the Doctor; just stops being omnipotent. It’s about time. Omnipotence doesn’t wear well in a story about people who are essentially human. The Doctor either needs to become a Timelord (and become obsolete, another “dusty senator” as Mr. Finch put it in “School Reunion”) or embrace his love of humanity and stop angrily saving the world just because Rose is gone and he has nothing better to do.
He doesn’t love humanity, you see. He loves Rose. He only loves humanity when he sees Rose in another human. Martha loved him, and so she couldn’t bring him around. Captain Jack loved him (eww), and he not only couldn’t bring him around, but serves as an eternal reminder of who and what Rose was. We need somebody who won’t fall under the Doctor’s spell. We need somebody who can stop him. We need the Anti-Rose. That somebody, ladies and gentlemen, is Donna Noble. The Bride is the only person we know who can make him into the Doctor again. Of course he will still be arrogant; every Doctor was. Of course he will still be nigh-omniscient. But he will learn, this season, I believe this without knowing the details or what is coming or even what the next episode is about — he will learn to be old and wonderful, fast and hesitant, unflappable and vulnerable, just like Two, Four, and Five were.
In “Last of the Time Lords” the world called out for a Doctor that they didn’t know, and he came. Now he needs to come to terms with the fact that he doesn’t know himself; Rose is a Big Bad Wolf that overshadows his life. It’s time to move on, or she’ll huff and she’ll puff and she’ll blow the TARDIS in.
Now the body count starts to rise. The Van Hoffs. Bannakaffalatta (and that was a good way to go if you ask me). The Doctor runs into the three-wishes problem and manages to screw it up just like everybody else does (again, maybe just a reminder that he’s not God, nor even smart enough to sort this out as fast as he’d like). Then he’s on Deck 31, facing the enemy… and Max Capricorn is some weird mixture of Davros and Kenneth Branagh’s Professor Loveless from Wild Wild West. At least he didn’t have spider legs or Dalekanium. He monologues for a while after a false start and then there’s Astrid, trying to be Doctor-esque: “I resign.” A moment of struggle, a reminder that she’s in a forklift (where’s K-9 when you need him?), and then she can’t seem to make it out of the cage as the whole mess goes down into the exposed nuclear reactor. The third suicide with a good purpose, and the fourth intentional suicide, in this episode. This probably would have mattered more if it had been the only one; I didn’t sniffle for her the way I did for Nine in Parting of the Ways, or for Jabe from the Forest of Cheem for that matter. Why did she think that killing Max in that slow, awkward way would keep the Host from immediately killing the Doctor? Maybe because the Host are slow and awkward too? But somehow you know that this is not the end.
Then we get to the ascension.
The Doctor snaps his fingers, the Host flank him and carry him to the bridge, which has been double-deadlock sealed. (If deadlock seals can’t be broken, why have a double-deadlock?) Of course the Doctor’s an old sea dog, so he takes the wheel (the conn?) and narrowly misses Buckingham Palace, followed by one of the worst moments in new-Who television: the Queen waving and thanking him by name. Retch.
The world saved from extinction, the only survivors (who we know, anyway) are Copper, the rich jerk, Midshipman Frame who can apparently survive a gut shot for a looooong time… oh, and guess what, the teleportation system (why don’t they call them transmats? They did in 2005) has some sort of stasis field to protect people who are in danger. No mention of how it knows they’re in danger. But it didn’t entirely work this time; Astrid is nothing more than a few of her molecules and a smidgen of consciousness, which the Doctor disperses into space. After kissing her. Of course. And shouting something that we know he believes, and that we believed, too, until the end of the last series:
“I CAN DO ANYTHING!” Anything, that is, except save the ones you love.
“Astrid Peth.” What would that mean… star parts? Much was made of the fact that “Astrid” is an anagram of TARDIS, but Davies tells us that that means nothing. Copper says that she is only “stardust” now. Well, whatever. I suspect that the Doctor may someday find that the TARDIS is his only friend, a sort of Hoke to his Miss Daisy. As long as she doesn’t get all “Christine” on him.
Way to ruin the mood, hm? And finally he and Copper end up on earth, at the TARDIS. We are told that once again, it isn’t snow, it’s ash (which means two ash-white Christmases and one in which the Doctor artificially produced it for Donna). The Doctor, who was so nice to Astrid, roughly tells Copper that he travels alone. The heck he does. If Copper were a Miss instead of a Mr. and if he were blond, this would have been different, and everybody knows it. This is the guy who offered Joan Redfern a spot in the TARDIS, despite not having known her as the Doctor, but didn’t even try to connect with Martha, who (let’s face it) is more like him than Rose was. He offered Donna a spot, even after the way all that went down… but maybe that was out of pity. Still, Copper is rich, so he goes off to have a normal life (normal for somebody who wasn’t born on 21st-century Earth, anyway), and the Doctor goes off to do whatever it is that he does, which could just be to remember Stardust the Waitress.
You would think, though, that the Doctor would be tired of people who are so unlike him. I mean, it seems obvious that he loved the Master more than he did Martha or Jack. If it weren’t for all his pretentious-sounding warnings about messing with timelines, one would wonder if he weren’t going to try to reverse the effects of the Time War in some way. I almost think that he misses Gallifrey.
Possible repeated memes: Order 771? Stardust? Ethnology? Cyborgs have rights too? People on extreme life support? “I CAN DO ANYTHING!”? The snapping of fingers? Deck 31? Promises? Losing TARDISes?
I have now watched this episode twice, and it doesn’t improve with watching. The parts I like, I like better, but the parts I hate, I hate more. Maybe the whole point of this episode was to make you look forward to Catherine Tate. But I have heard good things about her in this series, post-”Bride”, so we’ll see. Things really couldn’t get any worse, without this turning into 1996 again. Maybe they want you to get tired of Ten, so he can reboot that character before it becomes so tiresome that we start wishing for Eleven. In that case, say I, hit the button. Let’s lose the angels and cigarette girls and get on with the business of time, and relative dimensions, in space.
