Menu Close

Tag: Nu-Who

Perchance a Dream

Review of Sleep No More
Warning: This review contains episode-specific spoilers and wild speculation about future episodes.

Mark Gatiss scripts are always hit or miss for me. I have really enjoyed a couple of them, especially The Unquiet Dead, but others have fallen flat for me. This entire season has been really strong (in my opinion), though, so knowing Gatiss was the writer on this episode, I went in feeling cautiously optimistic.

I came out the other end of the story rather confused—not by the plot itself so much as by how I felt about it all. After my second viewing, though, I think I finally figured out where I stand: with opposing opinions depending on how I look at it. As a writer, I found the episode to be a fascinating experiment using a worthy storytelling conceit; as a fan, I didn’t particularly like it.

Much of the online reaction I’ve seen centers on the “found footage” style. Some folks are touting it as a bold, new direction, while others feel it was a mistake of epic proportions. As usual, the truth probably lies somewhere between the extremes. Given the nature of the story, the found footage format (say that twelve times fast) strikes me as a perfect fit. It adds to the creepiness and makes the camera POVs part of the narrative itself. However, I found it incredibly off-putting. I’ve simply never been a fan of that style of film, and found it difficult to look past.

Continuity à la Carte

Review of The Zygon Inversion
Warning: This review contains episode-specific spoilers and wild speculation about future episodes.

This is the episode that made me look back and admit I hadn’t been entirely fair to Moffat.

Regular readers will know that I’ve long since tired of Moffat’s regular tricks and quirks. It was easy for me, therefore, to jump to conclusions about previous stories that I now know to have been incomplete. In particular, I was really angry after Death in Heaven when Osgood died. It felt like an attack on the fandom for whom she was a cipher.

Now, though, it’s obvious that Moffat had a larger character (and plot) arc in mind for Petronella Osgood (I kind of wish we still didn’t have a given name for her…). He has even tied up the glaringly loose end of the Zygon peace agreement with humanity, left dangling for nearly two years since The Day of the Doctor. Many of us noted how that particular plot line had been abandoned unceremoniously at the end of the anniversary special; some felt the Zygons had been underutilized as a result. It’s nice to see those threads being tied back into the ongoing narrative.

Speaking of call-backs to previous episodes, Clara’s in-pod experiences during the pre-credits sequence was extremely reminiscent of both Last Christmas (with Clara’s search for dream tells) and Asylum of the Daleks (in that Clara was physically trapped inside an enclosed space, but had made a different space in which to exist in her mind). Long-term continuity was well considered here (more on that later).

A Zygon Conclusion

Review of The Zygon Invasion
Warning: This review contains episode-specific spoilers and wild speculation about future episodes.

This is one of those stories in which misdirection is the order of the day, and which on subsequent viewings doesn’t necessarily become clearer. At least, not without the second half of the story, which is yet to come.

In other words, this is your fair warning that I have some oddball theories this week, so prepare to be inundated with my evidence. (Next week you can mock me mercilessly when I turn out to be completely wrong, but for now I’m going to pretend I’ve come up with the most brilliant fan theory of the series to date.)

Before I get into my speculative musings, though, let’s start with the more relatable mystery of which Osgood is which. Before the credits even roll, we see the surviving Osgood (who now wears question marks, whether on her lapels like the Fourth, Fifth, and Sixth Doctors each did, or on her replica of the Seventh Doctor’s vest) scrambling to escape capture. Hiding under the sheriff’s desk, she makes use of her inhaler. “Ah-ha!” we all crowed. “That’s the human Osgood! Zygon Osgood was the one Missy vaporized!”

Even the Doctor backed up our assumption, trying to help this Osgood come to grips with her identity. “Zygons need to keep the human original alive to refresh the body print. If you were a Zygon, you’d have changed back within days of your sister’s death.” But we’ve already seen these Zygons do something others have never done before: they can use mental images to take on a human form. (I’m kind of getting tired of Moffat’s finger in every goddamn pie, rearranging things to suit his own agenda. Yes, change is part of the show, and they have to keep things fresh. Still don’t like it.)

It’s a Big Plot Point’s Life

Review of The Woman Who Lived
Warning: This review contains episode-specific spoilers and wild speculation about future episodes.

Nominally, The Woman Who Lived was the second half of a two-parter that began with The Girl Who Died. In practice, it’s a brand new story featuring the return of a previously seen character, like Craig in Closing Time, the Meddling Monk in The Daleks’ Master Plan, or the Master in anything after Terror of the Autons.

There was even a completely different writer for this episode than the previous one; last week’s episode was co-written by Jamie Mathieson and Steven Moffat, while this was written by Catherine Tregenna (halle-effin-lujah, finally a woman!). It’s hardly surprising, then, that it had a completely different character and feel than its predecessor.

That wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. For me, though, the trappings of the mid-seventeenth century, the highwayman known as the Knightmare, and the fine lady in cahoots with Leandro of Delta Leonis (whom I was very disappointed to learn wasn’t actually a Tharil after all) were of little interest. They were merely the setting in which the real story took place.

Said real story, as I see it, is twofold. First, there is the fact of don’t-call-me-Ashildr’s effective immortality, stuck on “the slow path,” as Reinette put it in The Girl in the Fireplace. This exploration of what it would mean to live for centuries, outliving everyone you got to know along the way—and not being able to fly off in a blue box after—is the human side of the equation, though a modified one. We are not meant to live so long, certainly not alone. The way Ashildr’s perspective has changed, and her attitude toward the lives of others with it, is testament to the psychological effects of that isolation.

Not Dead Yet

Review of The Girl Who Died
Warning: This review contains episode-specific spoilers and wild speculation about future episodes.

One of the advantages of avoiding as much information about upcoming episodes as possible is going in without any particular expectations. All I had this week was the trailer, the title, and knowledge of the big name guest star (which was neutral information, since I don’t watch Game of Thrones). I had no pre-conceived notions about The Girl Who Died, and figured we’d be getting an okay-but-not-fabulous story. I was, thus, not disappointed.

Conversely, I wasn’t pleasantly surprised. It was, to my mind, merely average. Given how much I (a) love Capaldi and (b) disliked certain episodes in the last series, though, fair-to-middlin’ is still perfectly acceptable. As long as Capaldi’s on screen, it can’t be all bad.

As far as I can tell, though, the main point of this episode was to introduce Ashildr, the eponymous character. Unless there’s actually something subtle going on, rather than the anvil-to-the-head clues dropped here, we’ve just seen the seeds of a major piece of the series arc.

Back when Davros was crowing over the supposed success of his latest mad scheme, he justified it by claiming he was fulfilling a Gallifreyan prophecy. “It spoke of a hybrid creature,” he cackled. “Two great warrior races forced together to create a warrior greater than either.” Now we’re meant to see how that prophecy really gets fulfilled. Take the Mire, “one of the deadliest warrior races in the entire galaxy,” add their technology to a Viking, and voilà! Hybrid ahoy! The Doctor even says so, just in case we’re not clever enough to get it ourselves.

Flood of Expectations

Review of Before the Flood
Warning: This review contains episode-specific spoilers and wild speculation about future episodes.

I don’t think I like it when the Doctor breaks the fourth wall.

Perhaps that’s what got me off on the wrong foot such that I didn’t enjoy this episode as much as I’d hoped. It was better for me the second time through (as is often the case when I don’t immediately take to an episode), but after the strength of my positive reaction to the first half of the story, I guess I was just underwhelmed.

The fact that the tone of the second half of the story was—save for the scene when Moran was after Cass (brilliantly executed, by the way)—was completely different from that of the first certainly didn’t help in terms of expectations. Even knowing going in, though, that it would not—could not—be another Base Under Siege episode, I just couldn’t get a grip on this one at first.

By my second viewing, I approached it with a sense of reservation. With this dampened enthusiasm, I was able to see Before the Flood more favorably. Although the question of how the Doctor will cheat death and save Clara is clearly the main focus of the storyline, I found the “B story” centered on O’Donnell and Bennett more engaging. (Maybe once I knew the “trick” it wasn’t as fun watching the illusionist’s act?)

Base Under Water

Review of Under the Lake
Warning: This review contains episode-specific spoilers and wild speculation about future episodes.

Sometimes there’s a really good reason that something becomes a trope. Take, for example, Doctor Who‘s well-known “base under siege” story archetype (seen most commonly in the Troughton era). While its frequent use tends to make certain elements easy for the audience to predict (unless actively subverted), the inherent tension of a situation in which a pre-determined, non-expandable set of individuals have to defend themselves against an unknown, mysterious, or seemingly unbeatable enemy can make for a gripping narrative.

Such is the case with Under the Lake. Writer Toby Whithouse (whose previous Who credits include School Reunion and three other episodes) uses the tried-and-true setup to great effect, keeping the crew both separated from outside help and in valid fear for their lives.

Upon first watch, I was so taken with the story, in fact, that I couldn’t think of anything I didn’t like about it. Further thought and a second viewing highlighted a few, but none were enough to dampen my general delight. I can’t even express how refreshing it is to feel so unreservedly pleased with an episode.

The first of the relatively small down sides happened even before the opening credits rolled. While the Drum’s crew was relatively diverse (two white women, three men of color, and one white man (who isn’t technically even part of the crew)), it was still the black guy who was first to die. As a white woman myself, it took me a while to realize that sad truth, and I can’t decide how much it ought to bother me.

Something Familiar

Review of The Witch’s Familiar
Warning: This review contains episode-specific spoilers and wild speculation about future episodes.

Well, it wasn’t godawful.

In fact, it may well be the best second half of a Moffat two-parter I’ve yet seen (though the bar isn’t set very high, in my opinion). That’s not to say it was anywhere near flawless, but I did find plenty to enjoy.

The episode begins by resolving the we-didn’t-believe-it-anyway deaths of Missy and Clara and giving an actual explanation for the method of their escape (and Missy’s in Death in Heaven). It struck me as odd that Missy would need Clara to suss out why the Doctor always survives. Does Missy already know the answer or not? If she does, why walk Clara through it just to ask the follow-up question (“What happens if the Doctor assumes he’s going to die?”)? The only reason to do so is to bring the audience along (which is not good storytelling).

If Missy doesn’t know why the Doctor survives, then she was dead wrong when she told Clara “you’re the dog” in the relationship. Despite knowing him for millennia, Missy still needs a human who’s only traveled with him recently, on and off for a couple of years, to figure out the Doctor for her? Neither of those interpretations makes much sense, and the scene thus left me vaguely dissatisfied.

Same Old Tricks

Review of The Magician’s Apprentice
Warning: This review contains episode-specific spoilers and wild speculation about future episodes.

I think most fans can agree by now that, like him or not, Moffat has a pretty distinctive style. When you go into a Moffat episode, you have certain expectations. No one should be surprised, then, to discover that in the Series Nine opener, he’s up to his same old tricks.

The first, and perhaps most notable, of these tricks is giving us an (at least mostly) enjoyable Part One in a two-part story. Moffat excels at set-up, giving rich scenes and hints at things to come that get our fannish hearts pumping with that lifeblood of our breed, speculation. Time will tell how it all pans out, but experience suggests that the conclusion of the tale is unlikely to live up to the promise of its beginnings.

One thing we know Moffat can do well, though, is creating creepy “monsters” (at least the first time he uses them). The opening scene on the unknown battlefield provides that in spades with the “hand mines,” even though I’m still trying to decide whether I think they’re more or less frightening after finally seeing one tripped. The mix of this advanced weaponry with more archaic kinds (biplanes, bow and arrow) gives us—in retrospect—visual clues to go with the spoken ones about which war it is (especially for those viewers familiar with Tom Baker’s run). Yet, it’s still a bombshell when the boy’s identity is revealed and the opening credits roll.

Confession #82: I Still Like Murray Gold

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?