Regular readers will know that I’m something of a spoilerphobe. Try as I may, though, a few things always slip through the cracks and make their way to me. Usually these things are along the lines of casting news I’ve had preferred to have been surprised by or similar items, though occasionally a bigger spoiler leaks through.

More often than not, the details that filter down to me are not really a big deal; most people would likely consider them fair game, as they almost invariably originate from official Doctor Who publicity channels. I sigh quietly to myself that I’ve not avoided whatever little fact it is, and go on with my day. But sometimes what I stumble across actively delights me.

Case in point: this recent brief article from SFX Magazine in which once-and-future Doctor David Tennant praises the upcoming performance of Ncuti Gatwa. Reading that both gave me warm fuzzy feelings about the apparent camaraderie in the exclusive club of those cast as the Doctor and increased my own anticipation of Ncuti’s turn in the role even more (something I hadn’t realized was possible).

I got to wondering about what it must be like to become a part of that elite crowd. Obviously, every artist’s preferences are extremely individual, but the Doctor is also a role like no other. How much advice and insight would a new Doctor want from their predecessors? How hard would it be to get someone to give any advice? Or is it more likely to be a matter of fending off well-meaning prior Doctors and their notes?

If it were me, I think I’d have mixed feelings. On the one hand, if I were taking on such a huge, iconic role, I’d want a little guidance. Exactly how screwed would I be going out in public? Could I hope for any sort of anonymity (or even privacy) in the English-speaking world ever again? How does the work environment compare to that on other television series? Is the convention circuit any actual fun, or is it just a nice extra paycheck?

On the other hand, of course, like anyone of a creative bent, I wouldn’t want too many people poking their noses into my business and telling me what to do. After all, if the job had been given to me, I’d like to think that the higher-ups felt I had something particular to offer—something unique to me. Who could possibly give me any better guidance than my own interpretation of the character?

I suppose, in a very real way, it’s largely the same thing that a writer in the early stages of their career faces. There are many who have come before, some of whom are happy to offer the benefit of their experience (to varying degrees of welcome from the novice). But at some point the newbie has to decide for themself how much, and which, advice to take on board. Only then can they discover what they have to offer than no one else does.

It must be an exhilarating experience to be a new Doctor. The character has such a rich history, and yet you are encouraged—no, I think I’d even go so far as to say “expected“—to put your own, big ol’ stamp on them. I imagine it’s terrifying and thrilling in equal measure. What a responsibility—what an opportunity—what a rush!

I can hardly wait to see who the Doctor becomes in Ncuti’s hands.