Every now and again, I indulge myself and sit down to watch some Ninth Doctor story or another, letting the nostalgia wash over me. From the moment I hear that sting slide into the first, triumphant downbeat, something in my heart lifts in a way no other version of the theme song can evoke. Over the past ten years, composer Murray Gold has produced a half dozen or more versions of the title theme, incidental music for every episode, and musical cues for a multitude of characters, and I’m still not sick of him.
Not to say there aren’t moments I wouldn’t mind a change, especially when the sound mixers decide to allow Gold’s work to stomp all over the dialog, but generally speaking I quite like the way he scores the show. Aside from that first version of the title theme (still my favorite), I especially love the way just a bar or two of a particular melody—sometimes less—instantly reminds me of a specific character.
Each Doctor has had his own theme, though the ethereal oo-ooh’ing one created for Eccleston’s Ninth Doctor was shared with Tennant’s Tenth before its tone was modified. And though not every Doctor’s theme has been immediately obvious to the audience as such, it doesn’t take long for even a snippet of a particular melody to become inextricably linked with its Doctor. How many fans, for example, can listen to “I Am the Doctor” without immediately envisioning Smith’s Eleven?
I’d have been hard pressed to identify the theme for Capaldi’s Twelfth Doctor at the beginning of Series Eight, but by the time the finale rolled around, I easily associated the heroic strains of “A Good Man?” (the reported title of Twelve’s theme, although the soundtrack for Series Eight won’t be officially released for a few more weeks) with this latest incarnation.
Similarly, Gold has turned any number of musical phrases into auditory call signs instantly recognizable to fans. Even if you can’t call one of them to mind on demand, I’d wager any fan would be able to identify the character on screen when the strains of any of these major themes began. The urgency and sense of purpose accented by a heavy downbeat that characterizes UNIT’s theme; the triplet-eighths/quarter combination that leads off the Simms Master’s theme, echoing the drums he heard; the brass-heavy octave jump that begins the simple, menacing six-note Cyberman theme; the choral chanting that accompanies the appearance of a monstrous fleet of Dalek ships—all are unmistakable.
Of the Companions, I’d say Amy’s is the theme that resonates least for me—though it does put me in mind of Amelia waiting in the garden when I hear the tinkling notes and ooh’ing vocals as it opens. In contrast, Clara’s theme—with its single tone syncopated triplet (if you don’t know what I’m talking about, don’t worry; I can hardly follow these descriptions myself)—is so familiar by now I barely need the second note to sound before I know Gold is highlighting the current Companion’s frame of mind.
One of the things I’ve always liked about Donna’s theme (heard first in The Runaway Bride, but later reprised as “A Noble Girl About Town” in Partners in Crime) was how it highlighted her slightly goofy, highly dramatic personality with its jazzy, comedic lines. In contrast, Martha’s rather melancholy (some might say soulful) vocal/cello theme says more to me about her unrequited feelings for the Doctor than about her own inner strengths (though I may admittedly be projecting my own historical impression of the character).
For me, only Rose’s theme rivals Clara’s now in terms of recognizability. The soft piano melody backed by gentle strings always takes me back to the character’s early days, when I loved her unconditionally. No matter what I think of where the character has gone since, that music stirs a very particular emotion in me. That’s what all good music does.
So for all that it can slide into emotionally manipulative schlock along with the scripts it accompanies, I still like much of Murray Gold’s work. Because when it comes to character themes, the answer to whether or not he’s “A Good Man?” is a resounding “Yes!”