timeagainreviews

[timeagainreviews]

The Ratings War

It’s nice that the BBC screened the season two finale in theatres. Now I’ll be able to say, “I remember where I was during the last episode of Doctor Who.” Granted, I’ll be a brain in a jar by then and “The War Between the Land and the Sea” will be celebrating its 50th anniversary. Doctor Who will be mentioned in the retrospective documentary as a springboard for the show. A mere footnote in its illustrious history that only the die-hard TWBTLATS fans will sit through. Fans will speculate which Russell Tovey was the best Russell Tovey. I’ll prefer the Twelfth Russell Tovey while the brain next to me, oddly enough, will be a big War Russell Tovey fan. But that’s the future, and this is now. Right now, we still hold out hope that the show will continue. We can't know the future. We don’t know yet about the BBC’s last futile attempt to collect TV licenses through bounty hunters. We haven’t seen the Disney AI eat Russell T Davies at what is supposed to be a productive lunch meeting, swallowed whole like the Rani.

I joke, but one feeling I am struck with after this episode is that aspects of it were not planned. This did not feel like Ncuti’s intended departure. It feels a lot like Disney said, “Film a version where he regenerates and one where he doesn’t.” The ratings were the deciding factor as to which version aired. I’m not just speaking out of pocket here, there are real rumours and even photos of this other version. What that says to me is that nobody truly believed in the central concept. Couple this with yet another bit of stunt casting from the first Davies era, and it all begins to feel like a stop-gap. If you lean on nostalgia with no clear plan, you’ve got yourself a Star Wars problem. And these days, if you’ve got yourself a Star Wars problem, you’ve got yourself a Disney problem.

You may wonder why I say there was no clear plan, but did you also just watch a season of Doctor Who mimic the previous season? Both seasons start with a kitchy space-romp. Both seasons depict a mysterious older woman disguised as different people. I spoke in my review of “Lux” about its striking similarity to “The Devil’s Chord.” “Lucky Day” was a spiritual sequel to “73 Yards,” where a vaguely intriguing folk-horror is reduced to a less interesting political thriller about toxic masculinity. There’s the Doctor-lite episode. And then the second-to-last episode introduces us to a great evil with their names in big blocky text. Both finales include a caricature of a more talky villain with a giant CGI body. Oh, and we mustn’t waste the UNIT set. So if they planned to develop a formula and do that forever, then I retract my statement. That isn’t to say this season has been bad. In fact, I’ve enjoyed a lot of it. If they’re going to do the same thing twice, at least they did it better this time.

Usually, I would spend more time breaking down the plot of the story, but if you want my review of the plot, go back and read my review for “The Empire of Death.” Oh, that Davies, he got us again, the rascal! He made us care about a big, bad guy only to have it boil down to a mundane story about the people involved. In this case, it’s an imaginary baby named Poppy about whom we do not care. Last year, it was Ruby’s birth mother, about whom we do not care. But underwhelming finales are kind of Russell’s thing. They always seem to disappoint somehow, which I think I’ve figured out. Davies has always been far better at character development than plot. Back before the show had to meet the expectations of Disney executives, it might have been ok to eek out a more intimate finale. But now we need to see the production value on screen. You need to go big and bombastic, which puts Davies' skill sets at odds. Ruby Sunday had such a great character arc this season, while the Rani gets eaten by a big skull monster. 

While we’re on the topic, I’d just like to say that Archie Panjabi absolutely killed it. She doesn’t play the Rani like a mad woman, and yet there is intensity in her eyes. You can feel the contempt oozing out of every pore. Her performance only got better with a third episode. Even Mel’s description of the Rani supports my belief that Davies really understands the character. She’s not another Missy. The portrayal of the character is in no way a betrayal of the character. Which is why her abrupt and stupid ending was such a misfire. I’m struggling to understand Davies’ decision to end the storyline in such a lacklustre manner. What I don’t understand is how that felt like the interesting thing for him to do. He said in an interview prior to the episode that “The Reality War” was going to shake up Gallifreyan lore. Considering this, wouldn’t it have been more interesting had the Rani’s plan actually worked?

Losing Archie’s Rani so senselessly was a bit of a gut punch. I felt like the dad from “Walk Hard,” when he kept saying, “The wrong kid died!” But when you think about it, at least we got to see this Rani strut her stuff. We hardly got to know Mrs Flood outside of spooky quips to the camera. Having her be the one to survive means we get to see more of what Anita Dobson can bring to the character outside of her mystery woman status. Sadly, there is no chance of seeing the Rani’s TARDIS. I don’t know why the show seems to think they need to maintain the pretence of the Doctor’s TARDIS being the last in existence. Not just because it isn’t, but because it’s not really that important that it remains the last of its kind. Part of what makes the Master and the Rani fearsome is that they possess the same power and intellect as the Doctor. Some have said that Clara and Ashildr’s TARDIS or Fourteen's TARDIS existing contradicts the storyline. But rule number one- the Doctor lies. Why would you tell someone like the Rani where to find a TARDIS?

I never expected Omega to be a satisfying payoff. The story was already overwrought with Conrad, two Ranis, and a Poppy mucking about. Trying to introduce Omega in a single episode, which also captures his pathos and wrath, is a tall order. He was doomed to be a big, dumb monster, swiping at people and easily destroyed. Had they taken their time, he could have had interesting dialogue. They could have brought back Peter Davison in a shock cameo as Omega. Doctor Who loves bringing actors back as different characters. He could have stayed on playing the badger for years, and his gruff old man voice would have only added to his performance. But even if they weren’t going to bring Omega back in a substantial way, they could have gone one further and found him dead. I mentioned last week that using his body to rebuild Gallifrey is like something from Norse mythology. I stand by that. The point is, people are complaining that Omega and Sutekh were CGI slop, but I think it’s deeper than that. Pixar has proven you can get real emotion out of CGI. It’s not the CGI that’s slop, it’s the writing.

Can you imagine the cliffhanger we could have had? Not one based in sensationalism and stunt-casting, but one based in narrative. The two Ranis restore Gallifrey as its bickering Queens. The might of the Time Lords bolstering the power of the universe’s most terrifying scientist. The Doctor wins by saving the world, but loses by gaining a greater and very powerful enemy. It writes itself if you’re not trying to put a swift end to things before they even flourish. But this is perhaps where the RTD2 era has struggled the most. There is almost a surplus of ideas bashing about. It reminds me of the Rocko’s Modern Life episode “Skid Marks,” where Rocko is repeatedly warned not to get the “fat guy” by increasingly fatter characters. Only in this case, the “fat guy” in question is “The Boss.” By this point, we’ve had a pantheon of characters who could be described as “The Boss.” It’s Trenzalore all over again, in that by the time the Boss finally appears, will anyone care?

Of the trinity of villains, the one with perhaps the most surprising ending is Conrad. I expected the Rani to double-cross him and feed him to Omega herself. After all, according to her, humans are cattle compared to a Time Lord. Which is a weird observation from a person who has implied on several occasions to be a vegetarian. One aspect of Conrad’s ending that I found a bit odd was Ruby referring to his reality as “nice.” I get what she’s trying to say, in that he could have been Andrew Tate, but just wanted people to be happy. But we also get a scene where Rose comes back into existence because Conrad couldn’t imagine a world with her in it. Alright, Ruby, I guess fuck your friend Trudy. But that just feeds into what has been a spike in weird Doctor Who optics. All of that aside, I think it’s nice that Ruby showed compassion to Conrad. Kicking him in the balls would have felt good, but watching Ruby come into her own as a person was far more gratifying. Millie Gibson absolutely shone this season, and I am more than happy to eat a little humble pie in saying so.

In “Wish World,” we were given hope for a bit of espionage with Shirley’s UNIT tablet. But that whole storyline sort of went bust, as I somewhat called it. Instead of Shirley and her group of freedom fighters locking onto Conrad, she and the other UNIT operatives are called back to HQ via subdermal tracking devices. That’s a little more than weird, but we’re gonna ignore it. With that storyline abandoned, the truncated Omega climax, and the Doctor’s surprise regeneration, I have to wonder if anything went according to plan. Not only have you denied Omega fans a payoff, but also the disabled members of the audience were denied their big moment. On top of abandoned storylines, this era feels like a victim of its own hype. Because Davies wants people talking about Doctor Who, he’s been leaving a trail of bread crumbs and red herrings in his wake. The problem with this is that fans often have more interesting ideas than what he had in store. Maybe the Bone Palace is Omega’s body. What if they’re in the land of fiction and Anita Dobson’s casting is a secretly brilliant way to make “Dimensions in Time” and its EastEnders crossover more relevant? We had so many theories. This type of speculation can only lead to disappointment.

UNIT is able to reassert itself back into reality through the Doctor, with a little help from Anita Benn and the Time Hotel. What’s funny is that if you pay attention to the bone balcony from the end of “Wish World,” you’ll spot the outline of the doorway Anita opens to save the Doctor. Had I not rewatched “Wish World” at the cinema, I doubt I would have caught it. I knew we would see Anita again, but I didn’t know how. I thought this was a great use of her character. It was nice to see what she’s been up to and how being the manager at the Time Hotel has changed her perspective. Even if she hadn’t been pregnant, I think they could have gotten away with her only being there to hold the doors to the hotel open. Her constant reminders that she “just works in hospitality” were giving serious “Harriet Jones, Prime Minister,” energy. What’s confusing is her mentioning of the Boss. The last time we heard of the Boss was from the Meep. The Meep is pure psychedelic sunsoaked evil, while Anita seems perfectly nice. I have a hard time believing she felt so spurned by the Doctor and Rogue’s dance as to turn evil. So, is the Boss evil or is Anita just working for an evil person? It’s not very far-fetched to believe that someone who calls themselves the Boss and runs a hotel could be evil. Either way, Anita wields the powerful force of the Time Hotel with responsibility.

Possibly the most thrilling aspect of the episode was when UNIT HQ became the HMS Warspite. Perhaps they were getting the memo that UNIT was looking a bit like the Avengers tower, so they spiced it up a bit. Let's see you do that one, Stark! I used to go to a rotating restaurant in Kansas City called Skies. It sat atop the infamous Hyatt Regency building and gave a beautiful panorama of the city. I used to think a bottle of Boulevard Beer and that skyline were a slice of heaven. But now, thanks to Russell T Davies, my memories are sullied by the absence of Gatling lasers. It felt ironic to give UNIT a battleship upgrade when you consider the upcoming war between the land and the sea. Was this a kind of pilot episode for an upcoming TV series which should have been titled simply “UNIT”? Because I tell you, not once have I gotten that title correct the first time I say it. I think the problem with the title “The War Between the Land and the Sea” is all of the thes. Why not “The War Between Land and Sea”? Or even “Land and Sea.” Or even better, “UNIT.” Either way, the trailer was very blue. And not in that ocean way, but in that governmental way. It’s hard to tell if this is going to be Doctor Who’s “Andor” or its “Secret Wars.” The showrunner is Pete McTighe, so take from that what you will.

The UNIT laser cannons are deployed after the Ranis sic the Bone Beasts on the tower by exciting its atoms. As it turns out, the Bone Beasts are like antibodies that clean up excited atoms that result from the unstable reality of the Wish World. Like the Alpine Ibexes before them, they crave that mineral. They’re like big, bony versions of the Reapers from “Father’s Day.” How they differentiate between atoms excited by Wish World inconsistencies and just regular excited atoms is anyone’s guess. Perhaps I was right when I suggested that Davies just thinks they look cool, which they do. It’s also a good way to show off UNIT’s fancy new tower, which is, admittedly, way cooler than their previous HQ. They have containment units. Weapons out the wazoo. They even have a zero room. Which, if I am not mistaken, is the first time we’ve seen a zero room since the ‘80s. I’ve always found it funny that the Doctor jettisoned the TARDIS’ zero room at one point. It’s the TARDIS, it saves rooms like computer files.

One room in the TARDIS that the Doctor will need to create is a baby room for him and Belinda’s baby, Poppy. The Doctor understands that even though Poppy is a creation of the Doctor and Belinda’s minds, she is still their daughter. Even further, she’s a miracle because the Master’s genetic bomb from “The Timeless Children” left any remaining Time Lords infertile. I wondered if this was what Davies meant when he said he was going to “shake up” Gallifreyan lore. By using a thirty-three-year-old concept like the Time Lords being sterile. One question I know he answered was that of bi-generation. Some of you may have noticed on Davies' Instagram that he was going to explain bi-generation. And by explain, he means the Doctor is going to give his best guess. That guess being that bi-generation is a Time Lord trying to survive. Which, as explanations go, is right up there with why the Twelfth Doctor chose Caecilius’ face. It’s more of a speculation than an explanation. But honestly, I prefer it that way.

While the zero room appeared to save Poppy from the reality shift, it wasn’t enough. As the Doctor and Belinda creepily discuss parenthood together, Poppy’s little jacket slowly folds away to nothing. Until it and she stop existing. The only person who remembers is Ruby. It’s one of those glitches, like Ernest Borgnine still being alive or teal being too blue. The Doctor giving his life to save Poppy reminded me a lot of the Fifth Doctor giving Peri, a woman he had only just met, the sole vial of spectrox toxaemia antidote. This is the Tenth Doctor trading places with Wilfred Mott. It would appear to have worked as the Doctor awakens to find himself in Belinda and Poppy’s garden. In this new reality, Poppy exists as Belinda’s daughter. Except now, Poppy is no longer part Time Lord. No time or space, babies here. Some have complained that this short changed Belinda’s character. But she still has her job as a nurse, she just drinks less expired milk now. It even lends her character a bit of clarity. One thing I found odd was how often they returned to Belinda, telling the Doctor she needed to return. When you add the framework of her being a mother, the insistence makes more sense than “I have work in the morning.” Because of this, it doesn’t feel as forced as marrying off characters like Jo or Leela. It’s also a good reason for Belinda to cease travelling with the Doctor.

Before we say goodbye to Ncuti, we say hello to Jodie. Considering all of the aspects of this season which were leaked ahead of time, it’s amazing they managed to keep a lid on this one. I’d heard rumours of a secret regeneration into Billie Piper. Omega and the Rani seemed to have been spoiled immediately. This might be one of the most spoiled seasons in Doctor Who history. But I don’t believe I saw anyone talking about a Jodie Whittaker cameo. It’s weird that she shows up when she does, as this is when I expected to see Susan. One of the heartaches I always felt from the Whittaker era is that they never brought back Susan. Call me sentimental, but I yearned to hear her say “Hello, Grandmother.” This would have been an opportunity for her to say both! Can you imagine? Sadly, Susan is MIA, which feels like yet another abandoned storyline. As Jodie Performances go, this was a genuine treat. We get to see her be a bit intimidating and confrontational toward the Doctor, if only momentarily. While I wasn’t a Chibnall fan, I never gave up on our girl. Seeing her back after these last three years was a welcome surprise. Even if it was a nonsense cameo that was basically a rehash of “Time Crash,” she still nailed it, and everyone in the theatre gasped when she showed up. Come back anytime, Jodie. Just don’t tell Chris.

Saying goodbye to Ncuti was bittersweet. Yes, it was slightly spoiled, but I never outright believe any rumours I hear. Why would I? I’ve seen some wild theories. I loved that he bowed out gracefully and was not overly sentimental, but this departure felt hasty. We were just getting to know the Fifteenth Doctor. Since he’s left, I’ve seen a lot of head-scratching responses from people saying, “He wasn’t so bad.” I don’t get these people. He was fucking great. Sure, maybe he cried a lot, but I cry a lot. You put on a video of Kermit the Frog singing “Rainbow Connection” and I start welling up. He was dazzling. He was beautiful. He could do weird. He could be intimidating. He could do alien. He was our fearsome Time Lord and saviour, and I will have zero Ncuti badmouthing in this house. I’ll miss his outfits. I’ll miss his flamboyant movements and that cheeky voice he would sometimes slip into. I’m going to miss that guy a lot. Perhaps in time we will learn why he departed the series, but at the moment, it feels like the Mouse and the Beeb lost faith. But I never lost faith. He had another year in him, at least. Come back anytime, Ncuti. Just don’t tell Russell.

Which brings me back to the cause of and solution to all of Doctor Who’s problems- Russell T Davies. I want to mention that while I can be harsh toward RTD, I absolutely love him for what he’s done and continues to do for Doctor Who. But as I said above, Doctor Who has a Star Wars problem. What I mean is that while Star Wars is a vast universe, it struggles to grow outside of the Skywalker saga. If there aren’t the Rebellion and the Empire, the Jedi and the Sith, what is Star Wars? They can’t just have Anakin Skywalker as a kid, he must also build C3PO. Rey has to be related to an important person. She can’t just be force-sensitive. Historically, Doctor Who has never had this problem. The show could regenerate and change its formula over and over without breaking. That is, until Davies took over. It’s not Russell’s fault per se, but his insistence on revolving around the Tenth Doctor and Rose’s relationship has given it too much weight. This insistence that everything must revolve around this one moment in the show’s vast history makes Doctor Who feel small.

I’ve actually heard people say, “They should just bring back Ten and Rose. I’d watch that forever.” These people confound me. Doctor Who is way more than two people’s co-dependence. I don’t know why you would feed into this aspect of Doctor Who other than sensationalism. But the issue runs deeper than that. Because the people in charge at the BBC aren’t really clued into what makes Doctor Who work, they relied on RTD, a proven entity. But RTD was only ever a stop-gap. We need someone to come and keep the ship afloat. Sadly, it’s yet to be revealed whether he’s achieved that or not. You could say the ratings are in the toilet, but TV is such a different animal these days. Who knows what success looks like on television anymore? The theatre I went to had double the people it did last year. Everyone I know who watches Doctor Who has been watching Doctor Who. It’s anyone’s guess as to what the show will become in the future. One thing I will say, however, is that I never needed Disney money and blockbuster special effects to love Doctor Who. If the next season comes around looking like ‘80s Doctor Who, I’d still watch it.

However, as I sit here wondering if this is the last new episode of Doctor Who I’ll ever write about, I’m filled with an odd curiosity. Sure, it would have been far more interesting for Ncuti to regenerate into Jo Martin. And my initial response to Billie Piper was a feeling that the show had finally jumped the shark. But when I rewatched this story with my sister, I found myself smiling at the sight of Billie. Perhaps it was the passage of time, but I’ve warmed to the idea. I keep finding myself asking questions like “What if she’s not the Doctor?” “Could she still fly the TARDIS?” “If she can fly the TARDIS and has the Doctor’s memories, wouldn’t that make her the Doctor?” It’s funny that the choice not to credit Billie Piper as the Doctor is partly why I am curious, and partly why I am annoyed. I'm curious to see what she might do with the role. But I am annoyed because it feels like another one of Davies’ breadcrumbs. “What does it all mean?” Do you know what it means, Russell? Or did you not credit her decisively because you wanted to wait out the fan reaction? I’m kind of at the point where I’d like more answers than a constant string of unresolved storylines. Keep some mysteries alive, but fucking finish something too. Even comic books are written in volumes because people understand that endings are important. Otherwise, you end up with a universe slowly dying like the MCU.

If this really is the end, we’re going to get some seriously weird media starring the Sixteenth Doctor. It will be a second golden age for Doctor Who books and comics. As much as the seething nerd inside me wants to see that, I’d also like it to be a costume designer who creates her look, not some comic book artist. I want to see Billie Piper’s take on the character, not just some writer’s speculation as to how that might be. We’ll know eventually whether Disney will continue with Doctor Who, but that hardly matters. In fact, the only real benefit I feel Disney offers is making Doctor Who more readily available outside the UK. You might say they gave Doctor Who a fighting chance against the Marvels and Fallouts of the world. But lets never forget that Doctor Who never needed to be those things to be great. I said last week that I want Russell T Davies to deliver more than sensationalism. I hoped that he wouldn’t set things back to the status quo. The glitches of the previous universe are a nice opportunity to shake things up. We’ve not seen their full extent yet. Perhaps Adric is still alive. I hope that RTD takes this downtime to regroup. Rethink. And if his plan is to rewrite the same season for the third time, I hope he starts looking for his replacement. I’ll probably never cover every episode of Doctor Who, so I’m not going anywhere. Besides, I’ve got to cover “The War Between the Land and the Sea,” which is the first time I didn’t have to check the wording of that title. Maybe things are looking up. 

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Where did the Vlinx go?

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It's a big day for McHale's Navy fans.

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I need help with a future article!

Feel free to throw out suggestions from any Doctor Who media. If it gets mentioned enough, or is cute enough, I'll include it in the article! Thanks, friends!

[timeagainreviews]

My Wish for the World of Doctor Who

Does anyone find it funny that the only aspect of season two that Tharries didn’t spoil was his cameo? I’ve been bombarded with thumbnails of the Rani and leaks about Omega since before episode one aired. But this? Radio silence. Those NDAs are no joke. Jokes aside, I think it’s lovely that they gave him a cameo. He very clearly loves the show. Plus it gives me hope. If a fairly popular YouTuber can nab a spot on the show, then maybe a barely noticed Tumblr blogger could one day set up the microphones for a Big Finish Torchwood audio. A girl can dream. I like to aim big. Speaking of aiming big, how about that penultimate episode? They really swung for the bleachers, right? Sure, why not? 

I’m not apathetic, it’s just hard to write about the first half of a two-parter. And while Davies has delivered one of the more solid seasons of Doctor Who that the show has seen in years, he hasn’t completely gained back the goodwill he lost with the lacklustre “Empire of Death.” While yours truly was more forgiving, many were left deflated by an ending that didn’t quite deliver. While I enjoyed “Wish World,” it’s with a pensive anticipation. There are things I would love to see Davies do, but this is his story, not mine. I would like to think he has more planned than “Gallifrey is back, baybee!” But I wonder how far he plans to take this new shake-up to the Doctor’s reality. Will he make broad strokes, or will he pull back just shy of anything substantial? Are we forging into the great unknown or breaking things and putting them back to the status quo? 

When I say substantial, I need you to remember what kind of fan I am. I like Doctor Who weird. I don’t want Davies to “undo the Timeless Children,” or anything so mundane. I want Davies to break Doctor Who so that people stop trying to place it in such rigid constraints. I want Davies to free Doctor Who from the binds of canon. I would love to plunge Doctor Who back into the realm of mystery promised by its title. Doctor Who isn’t the kind of show to really focus on hard facts. Can you name the different Cyberman ships? What was the name of the ridge where the War Doctor carved “No More” into a wall with a laser gun? How many times has the Doctor been 900 years old? None of these things matter to the type of story Doctor Who is. Doctor Who is unique in that its strength is what kills other shows- change. My hope is that Russell T Davies will push Doctor Who further into the realm of fluidity. I want the definition of Doctor Who to expand, not shrink.

Leading into this episode, I was most anticipating Archie Panjabi’s portrayal as the Rani. We have already seen Mrs Flood and can retroactively think of her as the Rani. But we had hardly met our new Rani before the credits rolled last week. I had a good feeling about Archie from the get-go. She has a regality about her. When I saw the photos of her “Wish World” appearance on the Doctor Who socials, I was starting to feel hopeful that they would nail the character. Her deep red coat with the gold studded shoulder pads was giving Kate O’Mara. I’ve always admired the Rani’s penchant for authoritarian power clothes. She looks smart with just a hint of dominatrix. The glimpses of her sonic syringe had me yearning for the toy. I love a good 1:1 replica, and that thing is begging to be electroplated and shipped to my house. My boyfriend better watch out because when that thing arrives, my inner Rani will unleash. She looks the part, she has the toys. So far, so good.

The episode opens in Bavaria, 1865, with the Rani visiting the seventh son of a seventh son of a seventh son. This relates back to the old folklore belief that any seventh consecutive son’s seventh consecutive son will be like a wizard. But if that wizard should then go on to have a seventh son, that son would then be a sorcerer, a sort of font of magic. As I had wondered last week, the Rani seems interested in exploiting magic as she has exploited science. Considering the Toymaker’s accent and Bavaria, I expected this baby to be related to him somehow, especially when the baby is used to turn a woman into flower petals. Not since Billy the Butcher have I seen a character wield a baby like a weapon with such finesse. The Rani kisses wishes off the baby’s head, reducing people to farm animals. The baby’s six brothers are instantly transformed into a flock of mallards. They really should have ducked. Sorry, I really quack myself up. In truth, it’s some cold shit to essentially kill those children. They sand the edges down by making them ducks, but it’s ruthless. Very Rani.

Pulling from the Steven Moffat playbook of starting the second half of a cliff-hanger in a completely different location, we find the Doctor and Belinda awaking in bed together. The room is mid-century modern kitsch. The Doctor (who is going as John Smith) and Belinda kiss one another good morning, and they set about their day. The aesthetics of the ‘50s nuclear family are the perfect backdrop for a story about a fictional world that doesn’t hold up to scrutiny. The Doctor, in his finest John Steed apparel, kisses his fake wife and his Space Baby Poppy goodbye. But reality can’t fully preserve itself, so slips happen as cups fall through tables. Not even Ruby's appearance at the Smiths’ door can shake the Doctor from this waking dream. The stifling fiction of this reality forces people into roles they were never meant to play. They are the invention of an idyllic megalomaniac who thinks men are men, women are women, the poor and disabled don’t exist, and that everything should be bright and sunny all the time. Who do we know that fits that description?

Conrad’s introduction reminded me a lot of George Orwell’s “1984” with Conrad acting as Big Brother. During his constant updates on television, Conrad must reestablish the lie of a world not in step with reality. If Conrad stops concentrating on this fantasy, reality has a shitty way of creeping back in with major consequences, such as flooding. I was amused by the choice to model Conrad’s Doctor Who story book on a Harry Potter book. Whether or not it was intentional, it rings true for a guy who seeks to limit the spectrum of human sexuality and gender. Did anyone else notice the author of the book was I. M. Foreman, like Susan? Interesting. Furthering the 1984 associations, we get Shirley and Ruby (and of course, Tharries) filling the role of the proles. And as Winston wrote “If there is hope, it lies in the proles.” Since Conrad doesn’t consider disabled people as valid, they’re essentially a blind spot in his worldview. Consequently, this provides a lot of agency for them to move about unnoticed. A rebellion is forming right under his nose.

This ragtag rebellion is comprised mostly of people with disabilities. However, Ruby is brought into the fold. Possibly due to her proximity to Conrad, Ruby can see through his facade. It’s revealed that after expressing doubts about Conrad, Ruby is turned in to the thought police by her own mother. Carla is cracking me up at this point. She’s such a traitor! This marks the third time in one reality or another where Carla has completely abandoned Ruby. I’m reminded of Rory Williams and his penchant for dying. I don’t truly believe Carla is a bad mum. It's just funny that a woman who fosters many children’s most consistent character trait is abandonment. After Ruby escapes capture, she is brought into the fold by Shirley. After vetting Ruby, they show her a UNIT tablet from before reality shifted. Ruby doesn’t recognise the device but it feels familiar. In their world, phones are still things attached to the wall, like the one Carla used to betray Ruby. With this tablet, they’re able to pinpoint Conrad’s location during his transmissions. We’ve yet to discover if and how that will come into play.

I liked that this group of outcasts were diverse, but one aspect I found weird was that they were all so young. This isn’t to say that they didn’t breach the topic of ageism. Mel’s status as a single older woman makes her invisible in her own right. But it would have been nice to see some older people in the ranks of the rebellion. It reminded me of “Alien Romulus”, which felt very aimed toward young people. Compare the cast of “Alien,” where the ages of the crew were varied. Call me out of touch, but I don’t understand this modern inclination to appeal to young people by assuming they can’t identify with older, if not elderly, characters. I got into Twin Peaks as a teenager, and that show is full of old people. Some of my favourite Doctors are old people. It’s not a huge issue, I simply find it strange. This episode has its share of elderly representation with Mel, Mrs Flood, and Susan Triad. But it feels out of step to say a group of disabled people are capable of fighting a rebellion while leaving out the elderly. Like I said, it’s not a huge issue, just weird.

John Smith works at UNIT- Unified National Insurance Team. It’s the same UNIT tower but in a completely separate line of work. Susan Triad is back in her “The Devil’s Chord” attire. Colonel Ibrahim has traded his tactical gear for a work-appropriate suit and tie. It’s like the set of Mad Men, except there’s a giant shipping box containing the Vlinx. While at work, John Smith experiences a couple of different slips. First, when he refers to Ibrahim as beautiful, something in Conrad’s world that a man should never say about another man. And again, when wondering who the Rani is as she flies her bone scooter up to a skeletal tower à la the Wicked Witch of the West. I mused last week that the Rani is too scrupulous to squabble with past incarnations as to who is in charge. However, even that narrative is beginning to show cracks in the presence of reality. While Mrs Flood may have sprung Conrad out of his cell, she and he have found themselves trapped in their own respective circumstances. The jailor and the prisoner are both left to rot while the Rani is free to do as she pleases. But what is she doing?

One thought that has remained with me since “Wish World” is, why would the Rani wish to bring back Time Lord society? To what end would the Rani benefit from resurrecting Gallifrey? Historically, the Rani has been labelled a “Renegade Time Lord,” alongside the Doctor and the Master. She wasn’t exactly in high standing with the Time Lords. And yet, within her palace is a giant Seal of Rassilon. This leads me to believe it’s not entirely about resurrecting the Time Lords, her dear friends. This feels more like her positioning herself to rule over the Time Lords. In the same way that she wouldn’t revere the Time Lords, I have a hard time imagining she holds any warmth toward Omega. Omega feels more like a means to an end; another source of power for her to manipulate. Going by the preview for next week’s episode, it sounds like she plans to use Omega’s body to rebuild Gallifrey. It's mythic in scale, drawing parallels to Norse mythology where the world was created from the body of a dead frost giant.

The Rani’s bone palace is a perplexing location. I don’t fully understand why her tower and its sentinels needed to be made of bone, but perhaps we will get an explanation next week. Or perhaps its just some weird shit Davies thought would look cool. Which, it does. Though it is amusing that while forming this fortress, the Rani saw fit to include a little bone kitchenette where Mrs Flood can make Conrad’s sandwiches. I did wonder if this palace was actually the Rani’s TARDIS, but that doesn’t explain the sentinels. If they aren’t her TARDIS, where is it? Historically, the Rani has always had a cool TARDIS. I would love a peek inside a modern version. We know she can travel in time as she was in Bavaria, so I expect to see it at some point. Unlike the Doctor’s TARDIS, the chameleon circuit still works, so it could be hiding in plain sight.

John Smith continues struggling with doubt when Conrad’s transmission is disrupted by Rogue contacting the Doctor from a Hell dimension called green screen. If you’ll recall from last year, I’m a Rogue girlie, so I was very excited to see him again. Belinda calls the thought police on John after finding him slipping cups through the dinner table. However, this is all part of the Rani’s plan. She brings the Doctor and Belinda back to her palace under the pretence of thought crimes. But it’s just an excuse for the Rani to exposit her entire plan to the Doctor. For a moment, I felt something in the pit of my stomach akin to worry. It was beginning to feel like the Master talking at the Thirteenth Doctor while she stood around doing nothing. But Davies smartly draws attention to this, informing us that the exposition is the point. The Rani intended for the Doctor to see through her ruse. She needed the power of a Time Lord’s doubt to undo reality. She needed Conrad to create a reality so unrealistic that only a red-pilled Broganite like himself could imagine it. Both he and the Doctor are merely pawns in the Rani’s quest to break apart reality so that she may find Omega underneath.

What Davies has done is essentially given himself the license to rewrite the mythology of Doctor Who. When he puts the world back into place, he can essentially reshape it. He has said recently that Gallifreyan lore will be rewritten. For my money, Gallifreyan lore has always been a bit shit anyway, so I’m fairly open to the prospect. Furthermore, in the aftermath of the Chibnall era, Doctor Who’s entire narrative has felt murky. Is the First Doctor just a fob watched version of the Fugitive Doctor who only thinks he grew up on Gallifrey? If so, whose leg did Clara grab? Who slept in the Doctor’s crib? So far, Davies has remained a bit vague on the situation, which has left many in the fandom waiting for the proverbial other shoe to drop. As I said above, I’m not looking for Davies to undo the Timeless Children, but some clarity would be nice. There are, however, some interesting context clues that could indicate which direction Davies might take the narrative.

The language over the Doctor’s origins has recently sided more on the Time Lord from Gallifrey aspect over the Timeless Child from wherever aspect of the narrative. They even refer to Omega as the first of the Time Lords. While yes, you could say that it takes more than the Timeless Child’s regeneration to make a Time Lord, it is a rather decisive way to say it, don’t you think? Furthermore, something that stuck out to me was the montage of classic Doctor’s faces, particularly the order in which they are presented. Unlike “Rogue,” which gave us a random assortment of the Doctor’s previous faces, we’re given the Doctors in chronological order. Or are we? We start with the First Doctor, William Hartnell, but shouldn’t we be starting with Jo Martin? Instead, Jo Martin is slipped in between Thirteen and Fourteen. But the War Doctor is placed in chronological order, not by his appearance. Had he been listed by his appearance, he would have been slotted between Eleven and Twelve, but here he’s shown between Eight and Nine. Perhaps because it pertains to the Doctor’s memory, they are presented in the order in which the Doctor remembers these incarnations. It’s not as though the War Doctor was forgotten by the Doctor. It may be nothing, but it's interesting that the show seems to be gravitating toward the traditional form of the narrative while still embracing aspects of the new narrative. It’s this sort of thing that makes me think we will see a kind of amalgam of the two.

The aspect of the story which stood out the most to me was Poppy. Why is Poppy here? And more importantly, what does the Doctor mean when he says Poppy is real? What implications does that have on the story? One thing we never did learn in “Space Babies” was who was making the Space Babies and why. Was the Rani attempting to create new Gallifreyans? Is that why they talk? Are any of the Space Babies going to grow up to be Susan? Is Poppy the Timeless Child? Is Susan secretly the Timeless Child? I have a hard time imagining children on Gallifrey. Specifically, new Time Lord children. I can picture the Doctor as a kid. I can picture the scarlet-clad children running in the 50th anniversary special. But I have a hard time imagining the Time Lords as reproductive. So much so that the Doctor has been alive for millennia and is only recently getting comfortable with the concept. Though I do find it funny that the closer the Doctor gets to embracing romance and sexuality, the less he mentions his age. My point, however, is that I don’t take Time Lords to be the type to reproduce. And not in that “genetic looms as canon” manner, or even asexuality, but rather in that “removed from the mundanity of having a body” sort of way. My thought of Time Lord society is that a large portion of Time Lords were dead on their feet. Ineffective and affected. Effete to a fault. They would definitely grow Space Babies.

Sadly, one of my predictions about Doctor Who has not come true. Mrs Flood is not some storytelling god with the ability to cancel Doctor Who. Fears of cancellation weren’t the most brazen of marketing gimmicks, but rather a harsh possibility. It’s a real shame when you consider Doctor Who is currently on an uptick in quality, but so was the Cartmel era and they still took it off the air. Something I think Davies could have done better was to reassert the narrative when he returned. There were large portions of the fandom who wanted to see him erase the Timeless Children from the show completely. Some fans were afraid he would do just that. Meanwhile, I found myself somewhere in the middle where I simply wanted him to make it work. His desire to please everyone has left a lot of people unhappy. Because of this, next week’s episode feels pivotal. Will Davies finally let the proverbial other shoe drop? I’d like to hope that Davies is improving the sandbox. I’m hoping that he will use this reality disruption as a chance at a clean slate. Marvel shook up continuity with Battleworld, why can’t Doctor Who do it?

I hope that Davies has more in store than sensationalism. Perhaps a surprise regeneration replacing Ncuti Gatwa with Billie Piper would get people to tune in next year. But a bit of clarity in the wake of the disastrous Chibnall era would help retain said audience. I don’t just want spectacle from this finale, I want a statement of intent. Davies has danced around these concepts long enough. In the same manner, it’s up to us as fans to remember to watch next week. Because this could be it for Doctor Who proper. Do you really want the last Doctor Who you watch to be “The War Between the Land and the Sea”? Of course you don’t. That’s why I’m going to the theatre next week to watch the episode. That’s why I rewatch the episodes on iPlayer. We need to show up so people know we still love Doctor Who. Who knows if ratings still mean what they meant in the pre-streaming era? Probably not. Let’s not put it to the test. Unless, of course, you think Doctor Who should have some downtime. I get that the current era may not be your cuppa, but Doctor Who can’t change if it doesn’t exist.

[timeagainreviews]

Sitting here thinking before today’s episode. And I wonder- why Mrs Flood? Why not Ms or Miss? Is there a spouse somewhere?

[timeagainreviews]

Dougie doo? Dugpa doo? Tulpa doo?

[timeagainreviews]

The Two Ranis

Before immigrating to the UK, I knew nothing about Eurovision. I may have heard the name before, but I wouldn’t have been able to tell you what it was. The only time I watched Eurovision was for its 61st song contest in 2016. I was with a group of friends, drinks were had, and commentary ensued. As introductions go, I had a lot of fun. It was kind of the perfect introduction and probably why I’ve not watched it since. I was able to soak in the atmosphere. The camp. The occasionally tragic choice of both song and costume. And to my surprise, an undercurrent of politics and controversy. It was a detached glimpse into a world I knew nothing about, and in that moment, I understood the appeal. The drama, the pageantry, the thrill of performance, it’s intoxicating. I understood then that I would never have a better experience watching Eurovision. I now walk the earth, raw dogging a Eurovisionless reality.

Part of my post-Eurovision journey has been one of casual interest in Eurovision. Like the Oscars or the Super Bowl, I might Google the results the day after. Because of this, I am only vaguely aware of any Eurovision drama, but going by the state of the world, I can piece some things together on my own. But we’re not here to talk about Eurovision, we’re here to talk about “The Interstellar Song Contest.” An episode which has not been without its share of controversy. I’ll get into it a bit, but I’m in two minds about it. Some may even say it’s frozen my dual brain stems and bigenerated me. I am both a Reviewer and the Reviewer. I have the me who watched the episode and the me who has been reading the conversation around the episode. That isn’t to say I didn’t have my concerns or that I outright agree with naysayers. 

Back in 2018, when I was a hopeful Whovian, I gushed in my review for “The Woman Who Fell to Earth” over the first woman Doctor. When Jodie Whittaker appeared, I cried. When she spoke, I cried. And yesterday, when I read Juno Dawson’s name on the credits, I cried. Before I get into anything else, I want people to understand that this moment meant something to me. I remember being in art school, having just come out as trans. I was worried about my future, so I asked my art history professor if trans people can thrive as artists. My professor responded with a flippant “Pssh, yes,” as if I had asked an obvious question. So early in transition, I was already conditioned to expect the world not to take me seriously. It may sound funny, but her casual attitude was what I needed. I needed to believe in a future that included me. While Dawson is far from the first trans person to write for Doctor Who, she is the first openly trans person to write for the show proper. The world has been rough lately, and I am going to take this victory lap.

One of the things I really like about Juno Dawson’s writing is that she plays up the camp aspects of Doctor Who. An episode parodying Eurovision is right in her wheelhouse. As a fan of the contest, Dawson seems intent on celebrating it with a light roasting. The introduction of Rylan Clark getting dethawed for yet another song contest felt correct. I know very little about Rylan Clark other than he looks like that, but I get the joke. I like that Rylan seems a good enough sport to take the piss out of himself like that. Watching him on Doctor Who Unleashed walking around the TARDIS console was genuinely adorable. I get why people give that guy stuff. I’d probably give him my PIN if he asked nicely. All of this is to say I like that the cast and guest cast felt game to be a little cheeky. The atmosphere around the production felt good-natured. Parody requires a level of respect for its subject, and this is a parody of Eurovision crafted by people who love Eurovision.

Speaking of a love for Eurovision, Interstellar Song Contest fan Gary and his husband Mike have been blocked out of their VIP booth seats by the Doctor and Belinda’s arrival. The computer reads their seats as occupied and won’t allow the couple access. I kind of love this because it explained how the Doctor was able to find an empty spot in a packed arena, as it was very lucky. But the TARDIS isn’t exactly dependent on luck. It is said that the TARDIS takes you where you need, and it’s ironic that even following the Vindicator’s coordinates, the TARDIS still manages to land the Doctor precisely where he is needed. Had Mike and Gary been in their seats when things go sour, the Doctor wouldn’t have had Gary’s expertise at triangulation or Mike’s help as a medic. I like to think of the TARDIS as a bit of a mastermind, using the Doctor strategically throughout time and space. The old girl plays 12-D chess, and I am glad she’s on our side.

The production value of the arena and the crowd cannot be understated. I loved the costumes and all of the new aliens. Oddly, however, the new faces are partly a disappointment to me. I would have loved to see some familiar faces in the crowd. Maybe a Judoon with a hot pink pincurls, a Raxacoricofallapatorian in a Pharrell hat, or a Draconian wearing a pride flag as a cape. Maybe they did that. I’ll file this away as an episode to freeze frame and do a Where’s Wally scan for Easter eggs. I’m sure WhoCulture or Screencrush have done an Easter egg video by now. The aerial views of the Harmony Arena reminded me a bit of the Senate Building from Star Wars. I found myself scanning the booths for a family of ETs. Now that would have been a deep cut. Even the halls of the space station were beautiful. Any references to the history of Eurovision found in the museum are lost on me. I hope for you Eurovision fans out there, that it was yet another fun game of I Spy. As settings go, the Harony Arena was brilliant. There was so much eye candy. Such attention to detail. Perfectly executed.

Speaking of perfectly executed, we’re introduced to Kid and Wynn, a pair of Hellions from the planet Hellia who have infiltrated the security system of the space station. The security droids reminded me of your typical Davies droid. They would fit in nicely with the Heavenly Hosts from “Voyage of the Damned,” or the leatherclad Slabs from “Smith and Jones.” I expected them to be a lot more dangerous than they were, but they were merely phase one of Kid’s three-phase plan, and he was about to crank it up a notch. Kid plays the dress rehearsal of the contest over the live feed, which alerts the Doctor when Rylan disappears from the footage. Suspecting something is amiss, the Doctor begins fiddling with a control panel on the wall. Meanwhile, Liz Lizardine takes the stage. By the way, did anyone else expect Liz to be a Malpha like the species from “Mission to the Unknown”? I mean, maybe Malpha is also from the planet Lizoko. My nerdy little headcanon will settle for “distant cousins.”

The Doctor’s arrival is noted by more than Mike and Gary, however. Mrs Flood can be spotted in the stands spying on the Doctor through a pair of opera glasses. Having been informed by Mo Gilliben that the Doctor was using a Vindicator, Mrs Flood seems perfectly happy with the results of the Doctor’s most recent triangulation. One is given the impression that perhaps even Mrs Flood was unable to get back to the 24th of May. Whatever she’s planning, she may not be in complete control of the situation. More on that later. Belinda is completely wrapt with attention as a Eurovision fan, herself. She even admonishes the Doctor for not paying proper attention to the songs since it will affect his ability to vote fairly. This entire episode is a shining spot for Belinda. In a weaker script, Varada Sethu can elevate her role with charisma alone. But here, Dawson has given her a wide spectrum of emotions to experience. Belinda is quickly becoming one of my favourite companions.

As Liz’s song peaks, Kid takes his cue to raise the roof, quite literally. With the livestream hijacked, none of the three trillion viewers back home realise what is about to occur. The kid cuts the power to the force field standing between the 100,000 concert goers and the vacuum of space. As devastating and evil plans in Doctor Who go, this might be one of the most shocking I’ve experienced. The moment is played masterfully as the tone goes from light and exuberant to chaotic and terrifying. The dreadful visual of the shining happy crowd helplessly flowing upward into space made me audibly gasp. It’s a horrific thing to do, and the camera doesn’t pull away from it. What I had expected to be a silly killer robots in Eurovision episode turned out to be a high-stakes ticking clock thriller. I was already on board, but now? Wow.

However, Kid’s plan doesn’t go completely to plan as Wynn saves the life of one of the contestants, Cora, by sealing the shell of her concert booth. Furthermore, the Doctor’s fiddling with the panel earlier has bought them a bit of time by expanding the mavity bubble. Before we move on, I really hope Davies has some sort of plan with mavity. Because if it’s just a joke, it’s not a funny one. I feel like I take 10 points of psychic damage every time someone says it. Russell, stop trying to make fetch happen. Initially, I had a similar reaction to the Doctor’s sonic sunglasses, but now I look back on it with a simple fondness. Regardless, it would be great if the joke was actually leading to something about the nature of the show’s current reality. If the Doctor is stuck in the land of fiction, perhaps he’ll get back to a world where gravity is normal.

Belinda finds herself regrouping with Cora and her music partner Len. I say regrouping, but in actuality, she’s falling apart. Having just watched the Doctor and the TARDIS get sucked into space, her window for getting back home has narrowed considerably. Luckily, Cora knows a thing or two about feeling disconnected from home. She knows what it’s like to feel adrift and she helps tether Belinda back to the present. Meanwhile, the Doctor slowly drifts through space as his body starts accumulating frost crystals. But a sudden vision brings the Doctor’s mind back to the forefront- his granddaughter, Susan, standing inside the TARDIS. Carole Ann Ford hasn’t been seen since 1983 when she and the Fifth Doctor shared a rather disappointing reunion in “The Five Doctors.” I would say it was a surprise, but they’ve been hinting at a Susan cameo for a while now. She was also in attendance for the 60th anniversary premiere. We already suspected something, so it was nice that they finally pulled the trigger.

Susan’s pep-talk invigorates the Doctor enough to channel his inner Pinkie Pie and arm himself with a confetti cannon. Using a blast of gold confetti, the Doctor rockets back to the arena like Wall-E with a fire extinguisher. Luckily, Mike and Gary are there to receive the Doctor, and I do mean that as a double entendre because those guys were thirsty. Mike revives the Doctor, and the trio set about regaining control of the space station. I will say at this point, I found the Doctor’s use of the sonic screwdriver a bit over the top. The Doctor uses the sonic to pop robot heads. He uses the sonic to blow up a gun in Kid’s hands. He even uses it to blow up Kid’s doomsday device. Ncuti wasn’t lying when he said he loved the Third Doctor because not since the Pertwee era have we seen the sonic screwdriver blow up so many devices. The Doctor manages to hack into the system, which draws the attention of Kid. Kid and the Doctor have a curt conversation, which Belinda is able to overhear due to Len’s own hacking. There is hope for Bel once more if the Doctor is alive. Unfortunate for Kid that the Doctor doesn’t know Belinda is also still alive.

During the Doctor and Kid’s brief exchange, we learn that Cora knows both Wynn and Kid. Len’s prejudiced attitude toward Cora after discovering she was a dehorned Hellion illustrates the type of bigotry the Hellions have experienced. We also learn of the abuses of the corporation and the contest’s main sponsor, Poppy Honey. Did anyone else find it weird that in the previous episode we had a brief appearance of Captain Poppy from Space Babies, and now we have a storyline with the word Poppy so central to the plot? If that’s just a coincidence, it’s a weird one. We’re in that part of the season where anything could be a plot thread to the bigger story. I know it’s been a few years since the Chibnall era, but I am still thankful to be in a position where I’m engaging with the show once more.

The Hellions have caused the biggest stir within the fandom. It’s hard not to see them as a direct allegory to Palestine, especially given the undercurrent of Eurovision politics at play as well. But I found myself wondering just how direct of an allegory they were. Like the pro-life allegory from “Kill the Moon,” I’m not convinced it exists. I spoke about the optics of UNIT during a time when ICE raids are ramping up, but I wasn’t suggesting UNIT was an actual stand-in for ICE. The kindest criticism I’ve found of the Hellions is that they handled the story clumsily. I’m more in that camp, myself. I don’t for once think either Juno Dawson or Russell T Davies set out to make a pro-Israel storyline. Nor do I feel like they were setting out to demonise Palestinians. That feels like an extremely unkind take on the episode. I do agree that the messaging is muddled, and I don’t believe they stuck the landing. There were even times when I found myself confused as to what point they were trying to make. I’ve seen people online referring to Kid as a freedom fighter, which I find very weird. You kill 100,000 people and then plan to kill three trillion more lives, you’re a murderer. I don’t think that should be controversial to say.

Furthermore, I don’t believe the episode loses control of the narrative. Everyone involved knows that the Doctor takes things too far with Kid. It’s kind of the point of the scene. The Doctor and Kid are more alike than either of them would like to admit. Both of them took things too far in this story. And in the aftermath, they both blame their trauma as an excuse. I don’t see Kid as a freedom fighter. I also don’t see the Doctor as a great guy who was in control of his emotions. It’s messier than that. This is a Doctor who thinks his companion has just died. This is the wrath of a Time Lord. This is the same Doctor we see torturing the Dalek in “Dalek.” This is the Timelord Victorious from “The Waters of Mars.” It’s poetic that in this moment of great weakness that the Doctor should once again see Susan, his first companion. The Doctor knows not to travel alone because he gets like this. All of that comes tumbling back when he sees Belinda’s look of hurt. I don’t like this scene because I agree with the Doctor. I like this scene because the show clearly knows what the Doctor is doing is wrong. This isn’t the Doctor casually giving a brown man to the Nazis and the show pretending like it’s normal. This is a low point for the Doctor, and I am happy to see his fallibility back in all of its complex glory. Call me crazy, but I like those occasional moments when the Doctor is the scariest person in the room.

Please don’t construe this as me belittling how this episode may have made you feel. I’ve been reading people’s opinions on the episode, and I appreciate the perspective. As I said, I don’t necessarily agree with the assessment, but I’m glad people are talking about it. I simply have a hard time seeing any malice behind this story. There is a real effort to show that the Hellions are, in fact, victims. Even our beloved Mike and Gary have blind spots from the corporation’s smear campaign against Hellia. They’ve been told that the Hellions brought ruin to their own planet. They have no idea that the surface of their beautiful world was left pillaged and scorched by an uncaring corporation. Poor Cora’s horns were cut from her body. And even Kid is called Kid because his parents were murdered before anyone could ask his name.

It’s interesting that after all is said and done, I find myself feeling compassion toward Wynn and Kid, which is why I feel the Doctor has a lot to atone for. For starters, I am not exactly pleased with the way the Doctor refers to Kid as “Kid” in such a derogatory manner. It’s a bit of salt in the wound when you consider how Kid was given the name. The Doctor also reiterates that the ice in his heart toward Kid is still there. Luckily, the Doctor has two hearts. Maybe within the other one, he can find some sort of forgiveness or love. I don’t believe the Doctor is off the hook for his behaviour, and I’ll be paying attention to how they approach this aspect of his character in the future. The Doctor took things so far that I practically expected Ood Sigma to show up and wag a finger at him. Much like the Ood, I think the Doctor owes Hellia one after this. The Doctor shouldn’t simply be able to walk away from the experience with no consequences. As much as I disagree with Kid’s actions, I also disagree with corporal punishment. The Doctor has a reckoning with his darker side on the horizon, and I feel like Susan might be instrumental in that.

I’m glad that they didn’t pull a total “Kerblam!” by letting the corporation off the hook. After the Doctor and his husbears Mike and Gary beam the spaced people back to the satellite, Cora is given the spotlight to sing what I assume is a Hellion song of deep cultural significance. Even Len’s jerk ass has to shrug off his grudges. It’s not a fix for Hellia, nor is it justice, but it is the start of a new narrative around the people of Hellia. Once again, we return to the theme of a controlled narrative. It’s ironic then that this episode should air on the same week Andor has come to an end. Not only does the story of the Ghorman Massacre echo the ravaging of Hellia, but there is also a strong message about the spread of information. I’m reminded of Mon Mothma’s stirring speech to the Senate when she said- "The difference between what is said and what is known to be true has become an abyss. Of all the things at risk, the loss of an objective reality is perhaps the most dangerous." Whoever controls the narrative controls reality.

The Doctor and Belinda reconcile, but not without a stern word from Belinda. She’s finally able to tell him how wonderful he is, but also to remind him that his actions scared her. The Doctor gave in to his weaker impulses, and she doesn’t let him forget about it. I love any companion that holds the Doctor to a higher standard, and Belinda is just that companion. However, their reconciliation is cut short when the TARDIS, attempting to land on May 24th, is filled with fire as its doors blow open. Is this the TARDIS exploding yet again, or maybe the Rani has broken through the doors with an assault similar to the one that killed the Sixth Doctor. Oh yeah, did I not mention Mrs Flood is the Rani? If you recall from my pre-season 2 blog, I guessed that Mrs Flood wasn’t the Rani. I didn’t want to believe it, but I’ve been hurt one too many times. But holy jumpin’ George, it’s finally her! And she bigenerated? How freaking fun is that?

You may wonder why I love the Rani so much. She’s only ever been in two televised stories (three if you count Dimensions in Time), and yet so many of us wanted to see her return. She calls herself Rani, the Hindi word for “Queen,” which fit her original actress, Kate O’Mara, like a crown. She had a regal egotism that the Master could only fake. And, like the Master, she enjoys a bit of subterfuge and disguise. Lesser men have referred to the Rani as the “Chick Master,” but that’s Anthony Ainley they’re thinking of. No, the Rani is far more calculating and far less mad, which makes her slightly more terrifying. There’s a cold logic and patience to her that makes her dangerous. She’s far more meticulous than either the Doctor or the Master. You get the impression during “The Mark of the Rani” that she’s shaking her head at these two Time Lord idiots who burn through regenerations like matches. I wouldn’t be surprised if her first appearance is still her first incarnation. You even get a sense of her no-nonsense approach by the way Mrs Flood automatically becomes subservient to the new Rani. Where the Master’s incarnations kill one another, hers follow a logic that the eldest incarnation is in charge. Squabbling is a thing for idiots.

Curiously, they decided to reintroduce one of the Doctor’s more science-minded villains in an era where magic and Chaos Gods have taken centre stage. I have two possible predictions about this. Either the Rani is fabricating a fictional world, or she’s looking to control this new form of science like she did its previous form. Does this mean she’s in control of the Gods or will her hubris bite her in the ass? Is she the Boss the Meep referred to? It’s tempting to say yes, but what’s interesting is that on two separate occasions, we’ve seen her die due to circumstances seemingly outside her control. Sutekh was able to reduce her to dust, and Kid’s plan shot her into space, forcing her to bigenerate. Either she’s a victim of circumstance, or these were calculated risks she had already factored into her plans. If it’s the latter, that’s kind of bad ass.

This episode was a lot of fun to watch and less fun to write about. I don’t relish having to breach sensitive topics, and I wish their messaging had been clearer. Juno Dawson showed a great flair for exciting and creative ideas. I loved the weird stand out moments like Dugga Doo (10 hour Dugga Doo cut on Youtube, please) and Holo-Graham Norton (how did nobody make that joke?). The costumes and makeup were top shelf. The sense of danger was real and palpable. The characters and villains were both complex. As much as the characters or the audience would like to draw black and white contrasts, the story is much more interested in exploring the uncomfortable middle ground. Kid and Wynn do have real cause to be upset. The Doctor’s actions weren’t great. I commend the story for not landing hard on any conclusions. Perhaps that is this episode’s secret strength. It is better to start a dialogue than try and control the narrative.

[timeagainreviews]

Spinning Yarns at Omo's Palace

It’s rare to finish a Doctor Who story and you think, “That felt personal.” Not in that it was aimed at you, but rather that the story meant something to its writer. This isn’t to say that Doctor Who doesn’t utilise morals or messaging. Russell T Davies has given us a healthy dose of messaging in both of his eras. What’s less common, however, is when the story feels like a personal expression from an individual’s lived experience. It’s rare to find such individualistic stories which also work. Robert Holmes delivered a muddled take on paying taxes with “The Sunmakers.” Chris Chibnall explored his own experience with adoption with the self-insert Timeless Child storyline. But here, with “The Story and the Engine,” writer Inua Ellams satisfies both the desire to tell a personal story and the need to deliver some solid Doctor Who. And deliver he did.

The story of Inua Ellams’ hiring as a writer is like one of those old Hollywood stories. He contacted Davies only to discover that both Davies and Gatwa had previously expressed an interest in working with the poet and playwright. It was as if he were fated to write for Doctor Who. Perhaps it felt too good to be true, because Ellams wrote this story like it was his one chance to leave his mark. Because of this, we see a lot of elements from Ellams’ work within the episode. His play “Barber Shop Chronicles” explores the home-away-from-home aspect of barber shops in African cities. He even uses the same anecdote about Yo-Yo Ma’s trip through Botswana. Because of this, Ellams’ DNA is woven throughout the story, and yet it never loses its identity as a Doctor Who story.

Following the theme of season two, much of “The Story and the Engine,” is dedicated to exploring the nature of storytelling. In this case it explores the communal and cultural significance of having a place where one feels safe to share. When we join the Doctor and Belinda, they’re in the middle of a well-trodden topic- the Doctor needs to get Belinda home. This is when the Doctor gets the bright idea to take the vindicator to Lagos, Nigeria. The Doctor doesn’t use this as an opportunity to go ghost hunting, instead, he’s respecting Belinda’s boundaries by calibrating the vindicator only. It’s Belinda who pushes the narrative further when she asks the Doctor about Lagos. This is when the Doctor confides in Belinda that its a place where he feels safe to be himself. Belinda understands this from her own perspective and encourages the Doctor to go see his friends at his favourite barbershop, Omo’s Palace.

Before we continue, I would just like to cheekily celebrate the fact that I called it about the TARDIS doing the Doctor’s hair. I’m not saying I’m a genius, but it is kinda wild that just two weeks ago, I mentioned it, and now here it is in an episode. Should I play the lottery this week? I kid, but what this speaks to is that there is a clarity this season between the show and the audience. Clearly the crew want us to think about Doctor Who in creative ways. The show gets that the hair and costumes mean something to a wide portion of the fandom. There are whole theories about how the longer Capaldi or Pertwee are in the TARDIS, the crazier their hair gets. So believe me when I say, it’s not far off for the show to do an episode about the importance of hair.

The Doctor beams as he greets the people selling their wares in the Lagos open-air market. He calls people “Auntie” and “Uncle.” They have special handshakes and inside jokes. I understand the people at Bad Wolf Studios looked into actually filming in Africa, but it wasn’t feasible for the budget. Instead, they brought in consultants to bring authenticity to their fake Lagos set. It’s a really lovely attention to detail. When the set is full of extras, it really works. It feels like a set, but in that classic Doctor Who way. Though when the set is deserted, it does look a bit like the marbles room from Squid Game. Having just sold us on the idea that space is a premium in the marketplace, it’s automatically suspicious just how empty the street is outside Omo’s Palace. Combine that with missing persons posters and a keep out sign, and you’re going to need twelve deadlocks and a panther to keep the Doctor out.

The Doctor enters Omo’s and immediately the vibes are off. For starters, all of the shop’s clients are the men from the missing posters- Omo, Rashid, Tunde, and Obioma. And strangely, while the sign outside says Omo’s Palace, a stranger stands ready to cut people’s hair. Omo has been telling the men about the Doctor, the greatest story he has to tell. When Omo was a boy, the Doctor stopped his village from burning to the ground. Since then, Omo’s shop has become a safe place for the Doctor to come and relax. He trusts Omo, so when Omo encourages the Doctor to sit in the Barber’s chair and share a story, the Doctor trusts that it would be safe to do so. Instead, the Doctor can feel the wrongness of the ritual as the Barber’s cape holds him down as if extracting the story.

The Doctor tells a simple story about Belinda to such a vivid degree that the paintings that manifest on the wall from people’s stories look photo-realistic. The story goes that Belinda was finishing a long shift and was headed home to celebrate her nan’s birthday. However, she catches something in a patient’s symptoms that saves the patient’s life and also costs her her evening with her gran. It’s a very modern Doctor Who story for the Doctor to tell. The Doctor is always going on about the nobility of living a normal life. It’s also a cheeky way for them to throw a brief little Mrs Flood cameo in there. It is a little interesting that the Doctor’s story contained Mrs Flood. It’s almost as if Mrs Flood orchestrated her involvement. What does it mean for her to appear in his story in that moment? And why hasn’t the Doctor recognised her yet? You would think he would notice after Susan Twist. Maybe that’s part of Mrs Flood’s plan. An old lady hiding in plain sight? They’d never do it twice! That’s like robbing the same bank! 

One downside about having ADHD is that our minds wander even when we’re engaged. I’ve had conversations with people where I stop listening to them because they were so interesting that my mind wandered. I kept thinking about their point and they kept talking. I do this with books as well. And I did it with this episode. There were so many profound and interesting moments that I had to rewatch this episode because I kept getting caught up in its concepts. And I do mean caught up and not lost. Never once does the episode lose its central thread, though it does keep some aspects a bit vague. I mean all of this as a compliment. I like that it’s an episode that’s actually about something. And I like that it leaves an air of mystery. I’ve said it often in the past that I love it when stories maintain a bit of mystery at the end. I’m reminded of “The Magnus Archives” or the first season of “American Horror Story.” Two different stories, which I enjoyed thoroughly until they gave away too much information. Sometimes an enduring mystery allows us to keep thinking. Solving a mystery can put too fine a point on things. The imagination has nowhere to go.

Perhaps one of the more enduring mysteries at the end of the episode is why the missing men’s hair grows back after telling a story. I’m in two minds about this. I can imagine a few reasons why their hair grows back, but it’s never fully explained. But part of me wonders if this wasn’t either a muddled explanation or perhaps a missed opportunity. We know from reading the missing posters that the men have been gone for about five years. The youngest of the men, Tunde, was only 19 years old when he was taken by the Barber. Tunde is also a footballer, which puts a bit of a ticking clock on his absence. Every day he’s stuck in the barbershop is a day further from his prime. If the growing of the hair was because sharing their stories aged the men, then it would add to that tension. Perhaps the others take his place to keep him from ageing out of his future as an athlete. It would add an even greater sense of urgency and an element of self-sacrifice. That being said, we understand enough about the hair growth to follow the story. People tell stories, the stories power the big spider vehicle, which causes their hair to grow.

Meanwhile, every time someone enters the shop or powers the spider, the TARDIS lights up all red and klaxxony. I found myself laughing at the way Belinda speaks to the TARDIS. She has no sense of wonder for any of it, and I find that hilarious. I half expected this to be a “The Lodger” situation, where the episode is a companion-lite story by having the companion get tossed about on the very cheap to film on TARDIS set. And if it was one of those episodes, they did a great job utilising Varada Sethu’s screentime because it hardly feels like it. Belinda’s method of tapping the TARDIS console and speaking directly to it surprisingly yields results. I like that the TARDIS listens to Belinda and shows her Omo’s Palace on the viewer. I like those times when the TARDIS relents to the companion’s pathetic attempt at interfacing. She may not talk, but she listens.

Belinda struggles her way through the marketplace. It's a sharp contrast to the way the Doctor weaves through the crowd. In a brief cameo, Inua Ellams plays a stallholder who gets into a brief altercation with Belinda over what appears to be spilled yams. Speaking of cameos in this scene, was that a Space Baby standing outside the babershop? Initially I took her to be a young Abby. I expected it to be a glimpse into how she knows the Doctor. Then I get online and everyone is like "ThAt WaS pOpPy FrOm SpAcE bAbIeS!" Does it mean anything more? The Doctor seemed to shrug it off as his story leaking out of the Nexus. But considering the emphasis on storytelling at the moment, that could still have deeper implications. Kinda cool.

The introduction of Abby with her abundance of food is your classic save the cat moment. She feeds the lads so we know she’s got some good in her. However, Abby kisses her teeth at the Doctor as if unimpressed, but it’s not until later that the Doctor learns Abby and he have a history, though maybe not so much with this incarnation of the Doctor. After learning that Abby is short for Abena, the daughter of the spider god Anansi, the Doctor remembers how they met each other. In classic Fugitive Doctor style, Jo Martin makes a brief cameo where she stands in place of the current Doctor and delivers a single line of dialogue. It’s sort of her main thing. Standing and talking. One day, we might even get to see her do something. This isn’t to say I wasn’t wildly excited to see her. Honestly, the further we get from Chibnall, the happier I am to see her. I was excited by the prospect of seeing what a writer of Ellams’ calibre could do with her. I get why it was just a cameo, but damn, let a girl run down a corridor or something.

Long ago, the Doctor left Abena with her father, where he was free to continue using her as a betting chip against strange men and women. Abena learned to distrust her father and the Doctor, leaving her vulnerable to the Barber’s controlling nature. Having spent the majority of his long life feeling unappreciated as the keeper of the Gods’ stories, the Barber plans to pilot the spider to the centre of the story Nexus, where he will unravel the stories of the Gods, thus negating their existence. If you’ve read Terry Pratchett’s “Small Gods,” then you’ll have a good understanding of the way the Barber operates. The Gods grow strong through our stories about them. People’s faith in the Gods feeds them. Cut that off, and you cut off the life force of the Gods. Cut off the Gods and you cut off people’s capacity to think, to imagine, and to hope. Though considering the Gods we’ve met in the last two seasons of Doctor Who, I’m yet to see evidence of a benevolent God, until Abena.

The Doctor’s honesty toward Abena and the men’s prostrations bring out the true Goddess within Abena. Now it is her time to tell a story. She sets the Doctor in front of her while she weaves cornrows into his hair. She tells a story about how enslaved people once fooled their enslavers by mapping the road to freedom within their hair. They would pass these maps on to others through their hair, and nobody was ever the wiser. Neither my boyfriend nor I knew this, and we both sat there, mouths agape at the brilliance of such a concept. When Doctor Who was initially developed, there was always a plan to use the time-travel aspect of the story to give history lessons. This might be one of the finest examples Doctor Who teaching history. Not only was it fascinating to learn, but it also plays into the story. I can’t stress how much I loved this. Incredible.

The Doctor and Belinda follow the Doctor’s hair through a labyrinth in the back of the shop to make their way to the engine of the spider vehicle. The engine looked like a cross between a baobab tree and something Delia Deetz would have sculpted. It also reminded me of the TARDIS’ architectural reconfiguration system from “Journey to the Centre of the TARDIS.” I find it interesting that there is so much machinery and tech surrounding the Gods in this episode. As Gods go, this use of technology evokes the Thor movies over fire and brimstone, and not just because the Doctor namedrops the Thor movies. It makes me wonder if perhaps none of these “Gods,” are as magical as “The Wild Blue Yonder” would imply. Instead, it feels more like Arthur C Clarke’s idea that any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic.

The engine sits surrounded by relics of every world religion. There are books and televisions feeding stories to the story engine. The Doctor lights up the machine with the six-word story of his life- “I live. I die. I live.” The life cycle of a Time Lord. It is now apparent why the Doctor told such a pedestrian story with Belinda’s life-saving moment at work. The totality of the Doctor’s lives flickers across the screens in the typical montage of past Doctors. The Barber is excited by this surge of power to his engine, but it’s too much power for the vehicle to withstand. Oddly, it was Belinda who delivered this information. I was left scratching my head as to how she would know the engine was about to blow. That felt like more of a line for the Doctor. I guess they realised Belinda hadn’t spoken in some time. With things about to blow, the Barber’s only option is to evacuate Omo’s Palace with haste. I found the destruction of the vehicle a bit strange. The spider never comes off as a menacing creature, but as it explodes and tries in vain to claw its way out of the shop, it feels like more of a villain than a vehicle. Appropriately, the clip the engine room played of the Ninth Doctor from “The Doctor Dances,” was precisely the one this final escape brought to mind. “Just this once, everybody lives.”

When I watched this episode with my sister, she expressed surprise at the mercy shown to the Barber. But when you think of it, the last time someone kidnapped a person for a five-year journey was “Gridlock,” and Milo and Cheen weren’t evil, just desperate. The Doctor forgives Omo, who also forgives the Barber. Omo even gifts him the barbershop and his father’s name, Adétòkunbo. Omo has more important things than cutting hair, like meeting up with the girl in the blue earrings from his photo. It’s an uplifting ending that I hadn’t expected. But it’s heartening to see that not only is Doctor Who becoming more of a space for diverse voices, but one that allows for those voices to express joy. I don’t want to watch trans stories where trans people overcome death and oppression. I can read the news for that. I want to see trans people befriend the Meep. Black fans deserve these moments in Doctor Who without also having to give a pound of flesh.

I spoke last week about the importance of Doctor Who as a bit of escapism. But where do we escape to if not our safe space? This episode feels huge in that respect. A black Doctor, hell, two black Doctors, a mostly black cast, and a black director have come together to bring us what is possibly one of the most heartfelt and joyous episodes in the show’s history. The show has a lot to atone for. It took the show 20 years to hire its first woman writer and 55 years to hire its first writers of colour. But this feels like a step toward making the fandom a safe space for people of colour. It feels monumental, no matter how long it took them to get to this point. This may end up being one of my favourite episodes of modern Doctor Who. The only people this stands to alienate are those who thought Doctor Who was a safe space to be a bigot. Because that was delightful.

[timeagainreviews]

Review incoming...

Hey friends! I have a LOT I want to say about this story. So much so that I'm having a harder time than usual putting those thoughts in order. Expect to see something tomorrow! Thanks for your patience!

[timeagainreviews]

The Perplexing Politics of Pete McTighe

Hey friends, just a heads up, I talk about real-life abuse and violence in this article. Please take care accordingly.

If I had a pound for every time there was a Doctor-lite episode where Ruby Sunday is staring down the barrel of some folk horror only for it to be subverted into a story about a toxic white male, I would have two pounds. Which isn’t a lot, but it’s weird that it happened twice. “Happened twice” seems to be the theme of season two, so far. Susan Twist’s many cameos have been replaced by Mrs Flood’s many cameos. “Lux” bore a strong resemblance to “The Devil’s Chord.” And now we’ve remade “73 Yards.” It’s like Russell T Davies is pulling an “Evil Dead 2,” with season two. He’s got a bigger budget and better concept. Let’s remake the first one but call it a sequel! Was season one a test run? Had to get limber, did we? Well, I hope you’re warmed up because it’s starting to feel warmed over.

If you read my thoughts preceding season two, you’ll know I was not looking forward to this episode. Ruby Sunday’s entire story arc left me feeling quite let down. I felt like we had a vague idea of Ruby’s character, which is a shame because after “Lucky Day,” I was very pleasantly reminded how good Millie Gibson is in the role. In many ways, Lucky Day acts as a proof of concept for a Sarah Jane Adventures-style show with characters like Ruby. Away from the Doctor, Ruby’s character shines. Seeing her in a more commanding role suits her. Lucky Day also gives Ruby a chance at introspection and self-reliance that I admire. Sadly, however, it also plays into some of the trappings of characters like Clara Oswald, who are given focus through grief and trauma.

The RTD2 era has a bit of a Batman problem. Billionaire Bruce Wayne uses all of his money to dress like a bat and beat up the poor and insane. If you think of it from a campy comic book perspective, you can root for Batman because Batman is the good guy and the Joker is the bad guy. If you wrote Batman this way forever, you would never really need to question Batman’s motives. But then you get writers like Frank Miller who suddenly want to give the Bat some depth. If you introduce pathos, you must also be prepared to answer awkward questions. You have to question the nature of the hero. If the companions experience PTSD to the degree that they require a support group, then we are no longer in an adventure in time and space; we’re in the thick of it. But is Doctor Who capable of staring into that Charlie Brookeresque black mirror?

My poor boyfriend struggled with this episode. For a bit of context, he’s a very sensitive man. I’ve learned not to show him certain films and shows because his capacity for second-hand embarrassment is so strong that he becomes panicked. It’s not just characters in embarrassing situations, however; it can also be characters that personify his fears and anxieties. A mundane story about an awkward couple fighting killer monsters in a small English village was something he had signed up for. But when the tone shifted to the all-too-real storyline of a toxic male podcaster spewing hate into the world, he felt betrayed. He said, “I watch Doctor Who to escape this kind of thing.” He couldn’t even relax during the massage I bought him for his birthday because the episode had him so wound up. This wouldn’t be the first time Doctor Who has used its platform to discuss real-world politics. “The Happiness Patrol” parodied Margaret Thatcher’s regime with the depiction of Helen A. But when I watched “Lucky Day” with my sister, she similarly remarked, “That made me angry more than anything else.” So, what is Pete McTighe getting wrong that Graeme Curry got right?

Perhaps one of the clearest differences between the classic and current eras of Doctor Who is that in classic Doctor Who, the ones shouting “Exterminate!” are pepper pots with sink plungers and in modern Who, they’re throwing up “Roman salutes.” Gone are the days of allegory. The Doctor is now fighting literal Nazis. But if Doctor Who is now asking us to have these serious conversations, well, then we will start having these serious conversations. The best place to start is the place I always start, by asking whether Doctor Who is capable of handling such conversations. For example, is it great optics for “I stand with UNIT,” to be trending in an era of ICE raids? ACAB, except UNIT, amiright? This is why they needed to give Conrad those ableist and sexist lines. Because beyond being a total dick, Conrad’s greatest crime otherwise is to ask for transparency from a secretive paramilitary government organisation. It’s the MCU problem where the villains have a great point, but they must be stopped because they’re also mean.

This makes sense when you consider this story comes from the writer of “Kerblam!” wherein the Doctor gives a rousing speech about how the system isn’t the problem, it’s the people who exploit the system. If you asked Philip Zimbardo, he would tell you how systems can take good people and make them do terrible things. And he would know. You get the impression that Pete McTighe is a well-meaning progressive who also canvasses for Labour without a shred of irony. That’s a bit unfair, I don’t know him, but I do know his writing, and it’s a bit weird. There’s a healthy dose of mixed messaging that I originally chalked up to the Chibnall era’s first draft approach, but it’s starting to look like a pattern.

When the Doctor and Bel find themselves in 2007, it’s only for a brief moment. The vindicator needs to be calibrated, and unlike the last stop, the only things happening of note are fireworks celebrating the New Year. There are no haunted theatres or dead miners, just a little boy and a lucky 50p coin. It was a relatively small leg of the Doctor’s journey to bring Belinda back home, but a huge moment for the young Conrad Clark, who goes running back to his mum to excitedly describe the magic blue box he just watched disappear. Much like the Christmas special, “A Christmas Carol,” I hate how brazenly they depict child abuse. Having experienced domestic abuse as a child, I really didn’t appreciate having to see little Conrad get smacked in the mouth by his piece of shit mother. I really wish Doctor Who would stop depicting that shit so vividly. This episode seems hellbent on collecting various triggers. Yay escapism?

Conrad grows up to be obsessed with the Doctor and the unknown to such a degree that it starts to become unhealthy. He seems to run a very popular podcast about the strange and unknown. It has enough listeners that people from various parts of the world gladly tune in to listen to him interview Ruby Sunday. But his podcast is also Think Tank, which is poised to expose such things as fakery. So were the people tuning in because they’re into some X-Files nonsense or because they want to see X-Files nonsense exposed? Would his audience appreciate this bold new change in direction or would it be like Watcher’s “Goodbye Youtube?” Furthermore, if someone invited you onto a podcast, wouldn’t you at least listen to it before going on? Wouldn’t the Vlinx spend its days combing the internet for disinformation about UNIT? Is UNIT really bad at its job, or does Pete McTighe not understand how podcasts work?

Conrad meets Ruby after following her and the Doctor through an abandoned department store as they went monster hunting for a Shreek. The creepy mannequins strewn about the scene had me hoping for an Auton story. We’ve not had a good Auton story in ages. Instead, the reference to Autons is a painful reminder of the episode we could have had. In the words of Mystery Science Theatre 3000’s Tom Servo- “Never show a good movie in your crappy movie.” This wouldn’t be the first time we got the Auton bait and switch. Remember when “Praxeus” fooled us all with its swarms of killer plastic? “Lucky Day” joins Praxeus in the newly minted category of "Pete McTighe episodes that I wish were Auton stories instead." Creating a new genre of Doctor Who story? That’s quite the legacy. Conrad overhears the Doctor give Ruby an antidote to the Shreek’s vomit, which marks its prey for future nomming. I don’t understand why they need to mark prey. I get that they want to scare people because it makes them more tasty, but getting eaten is already pretty scary. Shouldn’t anyone suffice? If the person they mark could be “anyone,” why mark them at all? The Shreek isn’t Tzim-Sha, for godsake. They’re not big game hunters. Christ, I’m referencing Tzim-Sha now.

Conrad snaps a picture of Ruby and posts it to social media in hopes that someone will get him in contact with her. But what person would violate Ruby’s confidence like that? As it would turn out, that person is Ruby Sunday. Between Conrad’s podcast and Davina McCall, Ruby is proving to be one of the Doctor’s most interviewable companions. It’s really odd to me that not only would Ruby respond to Conrad’s creepy post, but then gleefully recount her exploits with the Doctor in a public forum. It would appear that, along with goodbye hugs, departing companions must also be debriefed. You just gonna spill the tea, huh, sis? Why not just write out the Doctor’s schedule and a list of his fears while you’re at it?

Ruby warms up to Conrad after he tells her that he’s an orphan. Finally, someone with whom she can share the terrible pain of growing up with a loving family. Speaking of loving family, Ruby’s two mums and Cherry are all happy to see Ruby and Conrad start dating. It’s a sign to them that Ruby is getting over the Doctor. Cherry would also enjoy washing her clothes on Conrad’s abs, but that’s pretty par for the course with Cherry. She’s a dirty old bird and we love her for it. Ruby’s other mum, whose name I don’t feel inclined to look up, is also there. Our biggest takeaway with her is that she’s still there. Sitting. I get the impression that we won’t see these ladies much more in the future. But it’s Davies, he’ll probably have them all come back for some grand finale at some point. Probably when he leaves again.

Ruby and Conrad take a little trip. I forget where, as it wasn’t incredibly important to me. His friends are supposedly there to meet her, but we all know how that turns out. At this point in the episode, I was mostly content to watch a relatively mundane monster of the week story. I had resigned myself to that Pete McTighe mundanity that we’ve come to rely on. This isn’t the guy you give big episodes to, this is the guy who writes benign short films starring side-characters to advertise Doctor Who Blu-rays. Doctor-lite stories are his wheelhouse. I did like that Ruby called UNIT to alert them of signs of the Shreek. It gives us a good glimpse into her current state and demonstrates that even when she’s panicked, she can take control.

The control is just the issue, however. Ruby is constantly on alert from her travels with the Doctor, which is very realistic. That need to control the situation stems from her fear of losing said control. I’ve had people say to me, “Wouldn’t it be great to be the Doctor’s companion?” To which I’ve always answered with a hardy “No.” I had a guy pull a gun on me in the Sunfresh parking lot in Kansas City. It wasn’t an adventure, and I doubt that gun being held by a Dalek would have made it feel any more so. It stuck with me for years, remembering how frail I felt in that moment. The Doctor’s adventures would give you PTSD, there’s no denying it. So if your question is “Would you like the Doctor to take you on a trip in the TARDIS to go meet Terry Pratchett?” Then yes. Yes, I would. I love any number of fictional universes, but there are very few of them in which I would want to live.

After triggering Ruby and UNIT into a full-on panic, Conrad and his army of internet trolls reveal the big ruse that any other secret agency would have known about months in advance. They once stopped a Krynoid invasion, and now they’re getting clowned on by podcasters. Ruby falls into a dimension of montage where the world is shown to turn its back on UNIT. Even Trinity Wells is back to stir up some shit. No Trinity, not you too! I thought Trinity’s new approach from “The Giggle” had more to do with the Toymaker’s influence, but it would appear she’s a muckracker like the rest of them. Et tu, Trinity? Ruby, having done the podcast and the big exposé live stream, has become the face of ridicule. Her only choice is to weather the storm along with UNIT.

The usual UNIT team is present, give or take a character here and there. We don’t see Morris, Mel, or Rose, but we do see Kate, Colonel Ibrahim, and Shirley Bingham. I remarked to my partner that I liked that UNIT finally has a more permanent roster of rotating characters, like it did in Classic Who. For years, they were haemorrhaging Brigadiers, but Kate put an end to that. Introducing the Avengers tower-esque UNIT HQ gave them even more opportunity to establish a core team. So when they introduced Jordan Lang, naturally, I took notice. Sadly for UNIT’s and Jordan’s sake, he was secretly a mole on the inside. I hope after this episode, UNIT took a long and in-depth look at its security protocols, because evidently, it’s super easy to infiltrate.

After doing a background check on Conrad, they learn he once tried to join UNIT but was rejected because his vibes were off. They also discover that his mother is still alive, living comfortably in France. His podcast, Think Tank, has over 80,000 subscribers, which, as I said earlier, is confusing. Even more confusing is how that required a background check when a Google search would have sufficed. Even more confusing is how Conrad's live stream kept going when the Shreek's background radiation causes power to fluctuate. I did enjoy that Shirley got to be the one to call out Conrad about being a tax evader, considering he referred to her as a drain on taxes. In fact, I really like everyone’s reactions to Conrad’s sudden intrusion into UNIT HQ. Kate letting the Shreek out is some shit her dad would have done. And Ruby’s “Go to hell,” line to Conrad was a genuine high for her character. I even said “Fuck yeah, girl,” in the moment.  Hot taser lady indeed.

Because it’s Doctor Who, Conrad is wrong and UNIT is right. And because I’m subscribed to the narrative, UNIT are the good guys and Conrad is the bad guy. But the real-world parallels are so distressing and worrisome that neither Conrad’s comeuppance nor the Doctor’s reprimand feels any sort of cathartic. Having been proven the fool by the existence of the very real Shreek, Conrad has been locked away with his arm reattached, but the Doctor isn’t yet done with him. In a very “Oh shit, dad’s home,” moment, the Doctor invites Conrad into his TARDIS to give him a stern warning. The Doctor’s white outfit gives him an air of mercy, but is betrayed by the ambient red lighting, giving him an enraged glow. As Doctor speeches go, it’s one of Ncuti’s best. He brings a lofty weight to the words that sound like they come from somewhere real within his own experience. While heavy-handed and on the nose, the Doctor says some things a lot of us are feeling these days.

The problem arises in the fact that the speech is totally wasted on Conrad. The Doctor’s words fall upon deaf ears. And while it’s some stone cold shit for the Doctor to clue Conrad into the future of his sad death, Conrad laughs that annoying laugh. The Doctor doesn’t leave him chained up in chains forged in the heart of a dwarf star, he just stares at him with the same irritated disbelief as the rest of us. The look on the Doctor’s face is like Veronica from “Heathers,” when she said, “You don’t deserve my speech.” Because he doesn’t. Conrad is the pigeon knocking over the chess pieces and shitting on the board calling himself the victor. The Doctor may as well have been staring at a blank wall. Whether his revelation of Conrad dying angry in a cell at the age of 49 comes true or not, rather depends on what happens when the Doctor leaves. Mrs Flood, in her obligatory appearance, lets Conrad out of jail, informing him that this is his lucky day.

It makes sense that Mrs Flood would want Conrad if she is some sort of God of Storytelling. Conrad understands the importance of controlling the narrative. She seems to be amassing a team now. Perhaps Conrad is to be her new companion. Maybe there will be others. Is Mrs Flood forming her own UNIT-style team of disinformation? Possibly. Speaking of forming teams, do you get the impression that Davies is grooming Pete McTighe for something more? He’s given him the executive producer role for “The War Between the Land and the Sea.” The last person who got this kind of treatment was Chris Chibnall with Torchwood. Pete McTighe ain’t it. And by it, I mean the next showrunner. He might be, but he shouldn’t be. He’s had three opportunities to show what he can do within the Whoniverse, which, as it turns out, is not a lot. This confused and triggering slog was only occasionally elevated by the strong performances of Millie Gibson and the rest of the cast. Everything else was entirely forgettable.

[timeagainreviews]

"SOMEBODY..."

[timeagainreviews]

Well, Well, Well, Look Who's Back

It’s a rare quality in a Doctor Who story where the true nature of the story is left unanswered. The Eighth Doctor audio “The Chimes of Midnight,” is one such story. The Doctor is given no solace at the end of “The Satan Pit.” Was that the devil? Like, the actual devil? Was the entity in “Listen,” all in the Doctor’s imagination? Perhaps one of modern Who’s best mysteries comes from the series four episode “Midnight.” Of all of Davies’ scripts, it is perhaps my favourite. Which is why when it was revealed that the Doctor and Belinda were on the planet Midnight, my heart sank a little. Ahead of season two, Russell T Davies issued a warning against spoilers for episodes three and six. He knew the reveal of Midnight was going to be huge among the fandom. So why was I hesitant?

The original script for “Midnight,” was written over a weekend. Its success was somewhat of a shock to Davies. It was a companion lite story that took place mostly in a single location. It was as bottle episode as bottle episodes get. Yet the story was so gripping, the performances so stunning, that it became a surprise hit and fan favourite. It was so simple yet so effective. It wasn’t just that the episode was genuinely scary, but that it also allowed the mystery to remain. Part of Midnight’s success lies in the questions the audience is left to ponder. It’s a story I personally would never have given a sequel. Why mess with greatness? But it’s RTD’s story to tell, not mine. So hesitantly, I held out hope.

The Doctor continues dragging Belinda back home with the vindicator. Davies’ rush to establish character pays off as they spend considerably less time convincing Belinda to fill her role as companion. Something this modern era really likes to do is the “in one door out the other” instant costume change. I like that it feels like the TARDIS wardrobe exists in a pocket of its own time where the Doctor and Belinda can spend hours getting their hair and clothing just right. I like to imagine some sort of George Jetson contraption that does their hair. It could just be a stylistic edit, but I like that you can think of it that way. However, I did find it a bit odd that the Doctor and Belinda walk out wearing the exact costume of the crew they’re about to meet outside the TARDIS doors. I can imagine some explanations. If the TARDIS doesn’t always take the Doctor where he wants, but rather where he needs, perhaps it can also suggest appropriate attire. Maybe the Doctor has prior knowledge of the Lombardic military’s uniforms. It mostly feels like Davies saying “It doesn’t matter. Let it go.” It’s another means to get on with the story. It’s like the crucial moment at the beginning of any D&D campaign when the players decide to work as a team because otherwise, there is no campaign.

Luckily, the story gets into things fast enough that we the audience don’t start looking at Tiktoks or something. The Doctor uses psychic paper to establish himself as a “secret shopper,” type of inspector. But not all of the crew is entirely on board with this mysterious stranger. The troops have been sent to planet 6-7-6-7, to find out what happened to the mining crew of Colony Base 15. However, due to the galvanic radiation, communication with the crew is virtually impossible.  The bodies of the crew show the signs of a violent struggle. Planet 6-7-6-7 is an uninhabitable irradiated rock, but it’s also rich with mercury. But this is no mere Mad Hatter Disease. Those without the burn marks of a laser gun exhibit evidence of blunt force trauma. Every mirror has been smashed and there appears to be only one crew member still living.

I’d be lying if I said I didn’t have this episode slightly spoiled. An unfortunate side-effect of being a Doctor Who fan are the Doctor Who theories and spoilers that sometimes get thrust upon us by YouTube thumbnails or some dick on Facebook. It seemed like the usual speculation rot. The same people who said that Alan’s golden visage in “The Robot Revolution,” was the new look for Omega, were the same people saying the Midnight entity was set to return. Annoyingly, this was one of those one in a million moments when the speculators were correct. It only slightly ruined the reveal, as I had cottoned on earlier through context. There aren’t many planets in the Whoniverse that exhibit 6-7-6-7’s traits. And of course, as soon as they mention X-tonic radiation, most of us knew immediately.

My reaction to the spoiler when I first heard it was “That’s stupid, why would they do that? They just did a spiritual sequel with ‘The Wild Blue Yonder.’” Truly, this episode had a lot to overcome from my perspective, and it’s not like my worries are unprecidented. One might argue that while enjoyable, the Weeping Angels have become less and less effective with each new appearance. It wasn’t enough for them to knock people out of their place in time, but now they must also break people’s necks. The image of an angel is now an angel. So not only can you not look away from them, but looking at them infects you too. This is the problem with long-form storytelling. You write Batman for long enough, and eventually some edgelord is going to have the Joker cut his face off. Have you seen how many powers Superman has these days? The lore becomes overwrought.

Of course Davies has to introduce more powers to the Midnight entity. When the sole survivor, Aliss, is discovered, it is quickly learned that she is host to the entity. However, 400,000 years have passed since the events of “Midnight,” and the entity has added some new tricks to its repertoire. One could even say it has adapted over the years. The time jump is an effective way to change the rules a bit, but they didn’t change them so much that the entity is unrecognisable, or at least as recognisable as a faceless entity can be. The hallmarks of paranoia and fear are palpable as the crew begin fear one another. Like the last time we met the entity, it pits people against one another and toys with them. It would appear that 400 millennia have done nothing to soften the entity’s attitude.

One of the entity’s newfound abilities is to hitch a ride on the back of their victims and anyone who stands at their “midnight” position gets thrown violently. Technically, that would be their six behind them and 12 o’clock would be directly in front of them, but whatever, it’s poetic license. The troop’s leader and future Big Finish lead, Shayla Costallion, is trying her best to allay the fears of her soldiers but the Doctor’s claim of having visited 400,000 years previous, throws his credibility into doubt, and by extension, Shayla’s. Cassio Palin-Paleen, aka Trooper 1 and not a brand of wristwatch, has been suspicious of the Doctor and Belinda since their unannounced arrival. Mix in the paranoia created by the entity, and you’ve got the workings of a mutiny on your hands.

Aliss’ deafness turns out to be her strength in this episode as she is unable to hear the entity’s whispers. It can’t turn her paranoid like everyone else. Though it’s not like it’s helped her much. Everyone around her is dead and now troops are pointing weapons at her. One aspect to her deafness that I did find a bit odd was that the sign language she used was British sign language. I say odd because she’s supposed to be an alien. Her people have never even heard of humans. It would have been interesting for the Doctor to say something like “It’s not British sign language, the TARDIS is simply translating it.” That could have added an extra dimension to the TARDIS translation circuits that we’ve never seen. It feels odd that the TARDIS is supposed to translate language and yet on the two occasions when the Doctor has met deaf people, it doesn’t translate their signing. I’ve read Doctor Who stories where the TARDIS translates the movements of a species that speaks in dance. Clearly this is an inconsistency of the TARDIS that crops up as narrative dictates, but it could have been very interesting to see them explore the implications of non-verbal communication.

Cassio’s mutiny throws the entire squad into a frenzy, including Aliss who begins turning, thus revealing her back to the troops flinging them back violently. Despite the fact that the troops are dying grizzly deaths, the tone was on the verge of becoming silly. However, Shayla’s command to Aliss to turn in such a way as to kill Cassio brought things back on track. Not only did it put an end to the mutiny, but it also grounded the story into a more serious place than people cartoonishly flying backwards. It’s hard to keep the same tension as an intimate story like “Midnight,” when you’re telescoping the focus to be bigger and broader. In terms of tone, “Midnight” is to “The Well,” what “Alien,” is to “Aliens.” One is a quiet brooding survival horror, while the other is a soldier filled action thriller. You trade the intimate single location set of the tour shuttle for a big expensive mining facility. It’s not a bad thing, but it does remind me of Omni-Man saying “Look what they need to mimic a fraction of our power.” Midnight achieved so much more tension with so much less.

Tone really is the overall factor. And while it may not be fair to compare them, “The Well,” never reaches anything close to the same level of tension as its predecessor. But one tone that the episode does deliver on is that it feels like something straight out of the first Davies era. And I don’t mean because it was a sequel to a classic Davies story, or that they reused familiar visual cues like the pit from “The Satan Pit,” or female captains offing themselves like “The Waters of Mars.” It feels like a solid classic episode of very safe and very fun Doctor Who. This is the kind of episode people were expecting when Davies came back on as showrunner.

It’s weird to feel so cynical toward an episode I enjoyed the hell out of. These past three episodes have been such a pleasure to watch. But I find myself struggling with the themes of this story and its implications, especially in its ending. Like “Midnight,” before it, the entity is supposedly neutralised by a fearless woman giving her life to save everyone else. I say supposedly because the existence of “The Well,” implies that the first time only took the creature out of commission. The second time, Shayla’s great sacrifice is almost immediately nullified by the persistence of the entity on the rescue ship. It’s as though Davies undermined her sacrifice in favour of a tired horror trope of the monster surviving their supposed death. Since when did Doctor Who need to suddenly explain the reappearance of a villain? The Master comes in and out of life and death as he pleases, but suddenly we have to explain that the entity survived.

I keep saying Davies, when what I mean is actually “Russell T Davies and Sharma Angel-Walfall.” But since Davies gave himself top billing, and I have no idea what Sharma’s contribution was, I have been defaulting to Davies. Perhaps it truly was a collaborative effort, but I would love to see Davies actually let these writers have their own stories eventually. I imagine Davies had the seed of a story and had Sharma write it. That’s pretty common in situations like these. It makes sense that Davies would be more involved on this story as the Midnight entity is from one of his most celebrated stories. I just wish I knew who to praise, and what for.

The Chekov’s gun of broken mirrors plays into the entity’s apparent demise. The Doctor orders Shayla and her troops to shoot the pipes carrying mercury. Using a cascade of liquid mercury, the reflection of the entity behind Aliss now has itself behind itself. I liked the use of reflections here as it was a nice nod to the way the entity would mirror the Doctor and others aboard the tour shuttle. It felt appropriate for the mythology of the entity. It’s funny how I mentioned Davies remixing his old work, because much of this story was evoking Steven Moffat. Stopping the entity with its own reflection reminded me a lot of trapping the Weeping Angels by forcing them all to look at each other. But how well does it work? As it would appear with this creature, the only thing anyone can do for sure is slow it down, and even then, I’m not so sure.

If you recall from “The Robot Revolution,” Belinda asks the Doctor about the physiology of Missbelindachandrakind and whether it is similar to that of humans. It’s odd then that basically the same question is asked about humans in comparison to Lombardics. Is this some weird detail to pay attention to or a bizarre coincidence? Remember how the bees disappearing and alien invaders with lost planets ended up being the secret behind series four? The way Davies writes, it could be nothing, or it could be everything. I’m not saying it is something, but if nothing else, it’s weird that it happened twice. After it is revealed that the entity has left Aliss and latched onto Belinda, Shayla shoots Belinda in an effort to transfer the infection to herself. While the Doctor fusses over Belinda, Shayla tears ass down the corridor in order to throw herself into the pit.

Shayla’s sacrifice does save the life of Belinda. Her gamble of shooting Belinda in a non-lethal spot was enough to trick the entity off of her back. The Doctor gets Belinda back onto the TARDIS and hooks her clothes up to the latest in airpod technology. Belinda continues to delight throughout this episode. I love her reactions to every “new” piece of the Doctor’s tech. The bewilderment on her face as the Doctor pulls out his psychic paper is such a nice attention to detail. It’s easy for us to forget that all of this is still quite fresh for Belinda, especially because she seems so well-suited for the job.

I mention Shayla is a future Big Finish character, but that’s because she reminds me a bit of Bernice Summerfield. She has a sort of badass who has probably been on quite a few adventures air about her. She has all of the makings to be a fan favourite like Sara Kingdom or Amelia Rumford. In another reality, she would be a recurring character. But here we see her cut down in the line of duty, and worse yet, seemingly for no real reason. Ultimately the Midnight entity gets away, possibly even hitching a ride off of the planet depending on whether or not anyone on the ship survives. They’re not deaf like Aliss, so they might succumb to the whims of this ancient evil. Or it did die in the pit. Though I imagine its survival instinct is stronger than that. Going by this metric, the Doctor is 0 for 2 when it comes to facing off against this baddie. His only victory in both instances was escape.

To their credit, neither Davies nor Angel-Walfall ruined the mystery of the creature. What little we saw of the creature were vague glimpses over people’s shoulders. My biggest worry about this story was that they would explain too much and they did not. They found a nice middleground and stuck to it. However, I am still struck by the feeling that the story still feels unnecessary. No new information was gleaned other than “You really can’t kill this thing.” I was reminded of Michael from “The Good Place”  when he said “There's something so human about taking something great and ruining it a little so you can have more of it.” He was talking about froyo, but it applies. My friend, Anathema, said she was glad that RTD didn’t turn the entity into some God of Chaos in the Pantheon, and I am in full agreement. But the introduction of Mrs Flood at the end of the story did have me wondering if she didn’t orchestrate the entire thing.

Speaking of Mrs Flood, isn’t it a bit bizarre that they’re doing the same thing with her as they did with Susan Twist last season? It’s such an odd choice that I expect them to reveal Mrs Flood to be some lady who also can’t make tea. I’m curious what her response to the Doctor’s vindicator is going to be. Whatever that is, I imagine it will take a couple of weeks for us to find out as next week is looking to be a Doctor-lite episode. Even weirder, the episode stars Ruby Sunday as opposed to Belinda, which I guess makes sense considering Belinda and the Doctor’s current predicament. I don’t see them having many opportunities to split up. Pete McTighe is returning as a writer for this one. I don’t know how to feel about that as none of his stories have been particularly good. We’ve only really seen him write under Chibnall, so maybe having RTD as showrunner will elevate his work.

This one was difficult to write about. On one hand, I had a lot of fun watching this story unfold. It was a very solid episode of Doctor Who. But it had a lot of weird baggage attached to it. I didn’t care for either of the endings. One felt nullified by the other, and the other felt like corny horror schlock. But dammit if it wasn’t a lot of fun to watch. Ncuti did a beautiful job portraying the same level of fear David Tennant delivered nearly 17 years ago. I do feel that the episode struggled to make a case for its own existence, but perhaps its strongest argument is that it was so damn good. It felt effortlessly good. Instant classic stuff. If someone’s biggest complaint about the RTD2 era is that it doesn’t feel like the RTD era, this is the episode for them. They say you can’t revisit your childhood, but for a portion of the fandom, this episode was something of a time machine. Three episodes in and season two is really starting to shape up into something special.

[timeagainreviews]

Lux Makes My Heartbells Sing!

Growing up in the ‘90s, we were often shown depictions of cartoonish characters manifesting in real life. There was the cartoon “Freakazoid!” where a young child transforms into a crime-fighting cartoon man. In comics, we had “The Mask,” which was turned into a blockbuster film starring Jim Carrey. We also had Marvel Comics’ Slapstick, a superhero with the powers of a cartoon character. And, of course, in film, we had “Space Jam.” While there was an animation renaissance in the early 1990s, one contributing factor of this sudden interest in animation coming to life was the recent release of 1988’s “Who Framed Roger Rabbit,” which had infused animated characters into live action in a way never seen before. The concept of incorporating animation with live action was in no way new. It was seen as early as 1900 in the short film “The Enchanted Drawing.” Later, we saw the stop motion sequences of masters like Ray Harryhausen, where real actors fought swathes of animated skeletons, titans, and chimaeras. 

But Roger Rabbit was different in that its cameras weren’t locked into place. Gone were the almost stagelike compositions we saw in “Mary Poppins,” where Dick Van Dyke dances in a bowtie and strawhat alongside four animated penguins. There are real cinematic compositions mixed with puppeteering and animatronics that married together seamlessly. It was enough to have damn near created its own genre, and I was at the perfect age to eat it up! So when I discovered Doctor Who had a story where the Doctor meets a real-life cartoon character and even becomes part of the cartoon world himself, I very excitedly bought my own copy of the Eighth Doctor novel “The Crooked World,” from eBay. Because even as an adult, I still love that concept. Then, several years later, they made “Lux.”

I don’t bring up “The Crooked World,” as a slight on Lux, quite the opposite. It’s clear that Steve Lyons saw something in Doctor Who that Russell T Davies also agreed with. Doctor Who is a show begging to do an episode like “Lux.” I harp on and on about how Doctor Who is a metatextual story wherein the mythology is often dictated by its own real-world limitations. Because of this, it’s developed a kind of maleability which allows it to take on genres like the Fifteenth Doctor trying on clothes. Experimentation and parody are part of the brand. It’s part of why Doctor Who is so appealing while simultaneously daunting to new fans. But it’s also why people like me side with “rad” in the “rad vs trad” debate. Doctor Who is meant to be radical because it’s not bogged down like other properties. What is Star Wars without the Sith? Where is The Dark Crystal without the Skeksis? Doctor Who can do away with Daleks and Cybermen invasions forever because it’s also a show where glowing skulls manifest golden goddesses, sailing barges drift through space, and cartoon men attain universal consciousness.

If you read Doctor Who Magazine, which I do (mostly for the comics), you’ll likely have been treated to the first appearance of Mr Ring-a-Ding and Sunshine Sally in the one-page comic eponymously titled “Mr Ring-a-Ding.” In it, Mr Ring-a-Ding helps the Easter Bunny deliver eggs in his cartoonish jalopy. It’s very festive and timely, with it having just been Easter. But the part that stuck out to me the most was Mr Ring-a-Ding’s first utterance of “Don’t make me laugh.” Not because it reminded me of “The Giggle,” but rather how Eddie Valiant gains the upper hand in “Who Framed Roger Rabbit,” by making the nefarious cartoon weasels laugh themselves to death. Whether or not this was a direct reference to Roger Rabbit, I don’t know, but it was enough to give me hopes that the story would do right by its own premise.

The second RTD era has introduced us to some new tech. First with intelligent gloves and rope, and now the “vortex indicator,” or “vindicator,” as the Doctor calls it. As Doctor Who gadgets go, I love the vindicator. The notion of using a beacon to latch onto points in time like a grappling hook is so tactile and chonky. It feels like the same Doctor who flew the TARDIS onto a busy motorway with a piece of twine. It’s brilliant, but practical. The Doctor has been forced to use this mode of travel because the TARDIS keeps bouncing off of the 24th of May like a game of pickleball. Belinda, while still wary of the Doctor, seems to trust that he’s not just yanking her chain about getting her back home. However, she doesn’t want to go home so fast that she would pass up the chance to see Miami in 1952.

The usual crybaby wankers were up in arms about the Doctor and Belinda talking about the real life practice of racial segregation in public places in America. Evidently, it’s woke to mention the existence of real-world racism as it applies to the Doctor and Belinda’s safety. Yet you never hear anyone complain when Martha or Bill spoke on the subject. I guess that’s where we are in the world. And like the Doctor, I wait for people to topple that world. “Until then, I live in it and I shine,” - words I needed to hear after a week where the UK Supreme Court declared I’m no longer a woman but a secret third thing. You may ask how someone like me can keep talking about Doctor Who when the world is like it is, but Doctor Who is part of why I am here. Art and expression sustain us. The Doctor’s words helped me forget the real-life super villain smoking cigars on her yacht. That feeling lasted until watching “Doctor Who Unleashed,” and hearing Ncuti Gatwa platform Harry Potter. It’s easy to see why the Doctor Who Instagram account chose to highlight his comments about Pokémon instead. 

The conversation of race felt less like a morality tale and more of a history lesson for kids who may not know about racial segregation. It doesn’t really become the plot like it does in “Rosa,” and ironically, I feel it’s more effective. That said, it doesn’t say much on the subject other than “this happened.” The only time racial tensions truly come up in the story is when Lux is trying to fool the Doctor with another illusion. For the most part, the people of Miami seem almost eager to bend the rules. I like this depiction because it’s one often over-looked in these situations. The world would like me to see cis people as suspicious, but I see acts of kindness and acceptance from them every day. It’s important that we see the “Dot and Bubble,” side of racism as much as the “Lux,” side as well. There are people out there who want to share space with people different from them because the world is better when we do.

“Lux” plays out much like an episode of “Sapphire & Steel.” Two time travellers show up, one flamboyant and one stern. They spend their time in a single location trying to save fifteen lost souls from a mysterious “haunted” movie theatre. It’s as though P.J. Hammond was in the writers’ room. Previously, I had compared the reluctant companion role of Belinda to Doctor Who’s first human companions, Ian and Barbara. However, due to this dynamic, we see aspects of the First Doctor in the Fifteenth Doctor’s desire to explore obvious danger despite the protests of his human friend. It restores in the Doctor a bit of his mercurial wiliness that we’ve lost with gung-ho companions. It’s nice that Rose is ride-or-die, but Belinda’s sober attitude has a grounding effect when the stories start to introduce giant robot incels and blue talking cartoon pig bugs.

The Pantheon is back with another God of Chaos in the form of Lux Imperator, the God of Light, as voiced by the the brilliant Alan Cumming. After surfing a moonbeam through the Palazzo Theatre’s skylight, the glint off of a tack shines his essence into the projection beam of a Mr Ring-a-Ding cartoon. Lux has been given life in the form of this capering cartoon icon. His perspective towers over the audience as he reaches out of the screen into the dark. I was reminded in more ways than one of the friendly Stay Puft Marshmallow Man chosen as the means of mankind's destruction. After witnessing Lux vanish the audience onto celluloid, the theatre owner, Reginald Pye, keeps Lux at bay by screening reels throughout the night. Or perhaps Lux keeps Mr Pye at bay by manifesting a film reel of Mr Pye’s late wife, Helen, back from the dead. Both of them are stuck in a loop of fear. Mr Pye afraid to let go of the past. And Lux afraid to step out of the darkness into the light. My only question is what the hell was Mr Pye eating for three months? Popcorn?

After 37 years of technological advancement, how does Lux compare to Roger Rabbit? The choice to continue using hand-drawn animation was obvious. You can’t have Mr Ring-a-Ding looking like an animated reconstruction. He needed to look the part of a classic cartoon and he does. They even hired an animator who worked on Roger Rabbit, who I am sure was a font of knowledge. The static cameras we saw in “Marry Poppins,” compose many of the shots with Mr Ring-a-Ding. However, this feels like more of a directorial choice than a limitation. Many of the shots in the theatre are framed like a stage play. They’re calling attention to the artifice of theatre to call attention to how we, the audience, consume media. More on that later. The only time I was ever actually disappointed by the animation was when the Doctor and Belinda are turned into cartoons. I loved their Scooby-Doo aesthetics, but the sequence was little more than a trailer moment. Had I known this was about as far as they were planning to take this concept, I would have preferred they not put it in the trailer. I’m reminded of the time they announced the return of the John Simm Master instead of letting us be surprised by it. Hell, even the thumbnail is them as cartoons on iPlayer.

Had it not been for the stellar animation of Mr Ring-a-Ding, I would have felt stronger about the cartoon Doctor and Belinda being cut so short. It would have felt like they wasted a good concept on poor execution. As it stands, this may be some of the best animation in Doctor Who history. And I do still feel like they wasted a bit of the potential for some animated Doctor hijinks, but RTD had other plans. Hijinks would have gotten in the way of possibly Doctor Who’s most meta storyline to date- the Whovians. After breaking out of the 2-D space by gaining a bit of depth through vulnerability, the Doctor and Belinda find themselves in a white void, the visual of a film lens flooded with light. Our heroes try to break out of the film by forcing the frames of the film to advance. Davies even sneaks in a line about needing to stop scrolling and go outside. Which is really the theme of this episode. How we take in media extends into how we live our lives.

The Doctor and Belinda find themselves in the living room of three avid Doctor Who fans- Lizzie, Hassan, and Robyn. This is Davies calling us, and by extension, himself out. It’s also a love letter to the fans. Sure, they’re opinionated and annoying, but they also made friends through their love for Doctor Who. One of my favourite moments in this scene was the jump cut to the Doctor lounging on the couch while the Whovians geeked out around him. The Doctor once claimed to be a Sagittarius, but this is total Leo behaviour. I found myself thinking of the Fourth Doctor, whom I imagine would also relish in a bit of fan worship. He even had a cup of tea! It was such a cute attention to detail and I’d be hard pressed to think of a single Doctor I couldn’t see allowing themselves a moment of ego stroking. The living room set is full of fun Easter eggs for nerds like myself to scour freeze frames like a Doctor Who edition of an I Spy book. Davies pulls back on the meta by positioning the Whovians as the fictional characters and the Doctor and Belinda as real. It’s another illusion created by Lux. The fans get to save the Doctor by helping him break from the illusion. The Doctor and Belinda burn their way out of the screen.

Having the Doctor repair his hand with some excess bi-generation energy was a bit silly. It’s really only there to reveal regeneration energy to Lux. What’s funny is this is now part of regeneration lore. So have fun with that, wiki editors. It’s also interesting to note that the Doctor has firmly continued to refer to himself as a Time Lord. He reveals these things to Belinda throughout the episode. I love Belinda’s early days reactions to the Doctor. She gasps when she sees him use the sonic screwdriver for the first time. And she sighs at the ridiculousness of introducing the Doctor as “the Doctor.” I find myself all the more endeared toward her. I hope she and the Doctor continue referring to one another as Fred and Velma, respectively.

Lux sees the Doctor’s regeneration energy as the ultimate light for a God such as Himself. With it, he can grow a real body. Parts of this story felt like a rehash of “The Devil’s Chord.” Only instead of it being Ruby tied up by snakelike lines of music so a God can steal her essence, it’s the Doctor tied up by snakelike rolls of film so a God can steal his essence. They could have avoided this by having Lux manifest a couple of Sunshine Sallies to hold the Doctor within the beam. When he says “Go get ‘em, girls!” it’s what I actually expected to happen. The snakey film reels were still cool and had I never seen “The Devil’s Chord,” I wouldn’t have thought twice. I really enjoyed the attention to detail by giving Lux a cartoon heart in the x-ray shot of his chest soaking in the regeneration energy. It’s the details that make this episode work so well. There is a loving hand at the helm.

It’s up to Belinda to save the Doctor now. Remembering that celluloid is highly combustible, she heads to the projection booth to blow a hole in the roof. But Mr Pye with his nicotine stained fingers won’t give up his matches, especially not to let Belinda blow herself up. He’s spent to long pining for the image of his dead wife. His best chance to see her again is by searching the undiscovered country. The ghostly apparition of Helen is giving Lady in the Radiator vibes as she assures Reggie that in Heaven, everything is fine. In fact, a lot of this episode reminded me of the works of David Lynch. The theatre gave “Part 8,” of the Twin Peaks revival where Helen also made a fine stand in for Seniorita Dido. And the image of Lux fading into the universe evokes the ending of “The Elephant Man.” Joseph Merrick’s consciousness floating into the stars as his mother’s face welcomes him, saying “Never. Oh, never. Nothing will die. The stream flows, the wind blows, the cloud fleets, the heart beats. Nothing will die"

The “death,” of Lux was like something out of eastern philosophy. The idea of losing all identity by becoming everything in totality was both tragic and beautiful. What is complete ego death to a God? Is it odd that this felt less like Lux dying or even being defeated, and more like the natural cycle of his life playing out? It’s curious that as he’s absorbing regeneration energy, Lux becomes more complex, and very possibly, more deranged. But as he begins to soak up the light of the sun, he returns to his 2-D state. The Doctor mentioned that being 2-D gave you two dimensional thought. On a less complex and fundamental level, Lux yearns for the light. Perhaps this is why he lost dimension. His nature is simply to shine.

Other than the late Reginald Pye, this is one of those “Everybody lives!” moments. The patrons of the theatre have returned to their families with little memory of being captured to film. Even our Whovian friends become more than characters that don’t merrit last names. The credits see to it that we know their names are Lizzie Abel, Hassan Chowdry, and Robyn Gossage. The implications of this on the greater Whoniverse are yet unknown. It wouldn’t be the first time Doctor Who has broken the fourth wall or even met fans. They’ve done this storyline multiple times in the comics. However, having characters who know the world of Doctor Who exist within Doctor Who could get interesting. Just look at Marvel’s Gwenpool, a superhero from our universe. Her knowledge as a comic book fan gives her an edge in their world. Lizzie, Hassan, and Robyn are living in what is basically a Doctor Who isekai.

All of this meta fourth wall-breaking points directly at Mrs Flood. I’ve seen fan theories that the three Whovians are secretly the Gods of Ragnarok and that Mrs Flood is some sort God of Fiction. Perhaps she has the ability to cancel Doctor Who. It would make sense when you consider she says the show ends on the 24th of May. But if you’re paying attention, you’ll notice that while the 24th is a Saturday, it’s only episode seven. The show goes on beyond. This gives further credence to theory that Doctor Who cancellation rumours are actually a clever tie-in with this Mrs Flood storyline. In the same manner that regeneration addressed the real world change of a lead actor, Mrs Flood addresses the real world threat of Doctor Who’s cancellation. Mrs Flood is like a sort of all-powerful Mary Whitehouse, hellbent on putting an end to the Doctor’s story.

I said at the beginning of season two that I found it odd that they would film season two of Doctor Who before season one had even aired. However, I am now wondering if it’s not so they could leave themselves enough room to plan for season three to start filming at the end of season two. After all, we still have “The War Between the Land and the Sea,” coming. It would be weird to cancel a show they’ve put so much time and effort into. Can you imagine the sad state of airing a spin-off to a show that just got cancelled? Furthermore, Disney+ recently revealed that Doctor Who was it’s number five most watched series last year, which is pretty good for our beloved show. The BBC also stated that Doctor Who is among one of its top earners across their entire media empire. Is RTD so bold that he would use cancellation as a marketing ploy? It’s a risky one for sure. On one hand you could get more people watching, on the other hand, it could scare off would-be viewers who see it as a testament to the show’s overall quality. Are we living through a second Cartmel era where the show is facing cacellation just as it’s starting to get good again? I certainly hope not.

The real question about all of this metatextual storytelling is why now? When Russell T Davies returned to the program, the fandom was scattered. While the Chibnall era brought in new blood, it hemorraged old viewers. Going by this week’s ratings, that trend continues, which is odd considering everyone I have spoken to loved “Lux.” RTD seems interested in opening up a dialogue with the fandom about some of our more toxic traits. Sexism, racism, homophobia, ableism, all and more have been explored these last two seasons. Maybe he hopes to change some minds, or maybe he’s saying “We don’t need those types of fans.” You can sit alone in front of your keyboard banging out screeds against “Doctor Woke,” or you can come out of the darkness into the light. Like our meta Whovian counterparts, Doctor Who has the power to bring us together. Does it give me hope? Yes it does, sir.

[timeagainreviews]

[timeagainreviews]

".gniD-a-ginR rM m'I"

[timeagainreviews]

The Robot Revolution Will Be Televised

If headlines were anything to go by, pre-screened reviews of the latest episode of Doctor Who, “The Robot Revolution,” were mixed. The ending was referred to as “controversial.” My gut reaction was worry that it would be yet another lore change. I felt like the Babadook mum screaming, “Why can’t you just be normal?” There were a couple of moments that I felt could be divisive. Cat fanciers might have balked at the untimely demise of Lucy from number 7’s cat. Then there was the moment when our lovable robot pal, Scoot, vacuums up Alan at his most zygotic. But Lucy from number 7’s cat was quite literally RTD doing the opposite of saving the cat to let you know these robots are bad business. And the sperm and egg line is so camp that it’s going to be one of those “my girlfriend is a paving slab instances.” But we know the real reason this episode might spark controversy.

Was that the first cannon mention of sperm in Doctor Who? I certainly can’t recall another instance of the word in the show’s nearly 62 years of existence. The new Davies era has added quite a few new words to Doctor Who’s lexicon. We now have cosplay, sperm, and even incel. That’s two new additions in a single episode! Bravo! Jokes aside, it’s the incels who may or may not be mad about this episode. I’ve learned to turn down the volume of those types of people years ago. I often refer to it as background static because that’s what it is. The truth is, the only issue I have with Belinda Chandra saying “It’s the planet of the incels,” is that it’s a bit on the nose. But this episode is so camp that I’m not even upset.

The Chibnall era had the unfortunate knock-on effect on people’s perception of a woman Doctor. Because the show wasn’t very good, some people (idiots) blamed it on Jodie Whittaker’s gender. Another knock-on effect was how it made so any legitimate criticism of the era also had to first combat claims of sexism. It was a messy time in the fandom. But when the show is good and people are still complaining, then what is the complaint? No episode of Doctor Who is perfect, but this might be one of those times where if you didn’t like the episode, it’s probably because you’re an incel. You’d have to make one hell of an argument because, baby, I had fun!

My impression of Russell T Davies has always been that he’s a man who appreciates when Doctor Who is a little camp. He even refers to the Robots as “camp” on Doctor Who Unleashed. Part of Doctor Who’s charm is that it exists in a hyper-reality where Doctor Who is possible. This week, he leaned heavily on the retro-futurism of ‘50s B-movies, citing 1955’s “This Island Earth” as one of his main inspirations. Fans of Mystery Science Theatre 3000 will be well-acquainted with This Island Earth, as it’s the film they riff in the MST3K movie. It’s a gloriously corny bit of science fiction from Universal in their post-horror era. The AI Generator’s throne room could easily have existed on Metaluna.

However, the usage of retro-futurism here is also part of a growing trend in sci-fi to embrace vintage tech. In the Alien franchise, we’ve seen the return of the chonky mechanical keyboards of the Nostromo. The computers in Star Wars still look like absolute dogshit. And. I. Am. Here. For. It. It’s nice to see the Doctor using computer panels that resemble something the Second Doctor would have utterly destroyed. I’m reminded of “World Enough and Time/The Doctor Falls,” when they took the look of the Cybermen from “The Tenth Planet,” and updated their texture and materials enough to make them seem realistic. Things don’t always need to look how you expect them to, they can look how they need to look. The Doctor doesn’t need to pull up a Tony Stark-type HUD of holographic buttons for me to believe he’s on an alien planet.

Grounding this fantastic wonderworld in a bit of much-needed reality is Varada Sethu as Belinda Chandra. Belinda is a nurse who works hard for the NHS. She lives off of the least spoiled items in a community fridge. She’s a no-nonsense type who treats her work with the utmost sincerity. For the most part, nobody needs to tell us that Belinda takes her job seriously because it’s evident through her actions. Belinda doesn’t just sleep soundly; she sleeps on her stomach over her covers, presumably where she collapsed in exhaustion the instant she got home. This is precisely the sort of character work I’ve been missing from RTD since he returned. His work crafting the Tyler household was so strong that you felt as though you knew Jackie and Rose. I hope he keeps developing Belinda in this fashion.

We first meet Belinda as a teenager, talking to her dickweed of a boyfriend, Alan Budd. It’s clear from the outset that Alan doesn’t respect or even particularly like Belinda. He wants to possess and control her. He names a star after her but needs to associate it with her marital status by adding “Miss” at the beginning of her name. He critiques how she tears open her gift. He also steals the world’s most awkward and unearned kiss from her. In part, Alan is a knob and she knows it.

I found it a bit odd that Belinda would keep the star certificate all of these years later. But despite the irksome “Miss,” or Alan’s name on the diploma, it is still a bit cool to have a star named after you. Alan, as it would turn out, was the least significant part of that equation. In the words of Bilbo Baggins, “Why not keep it?” The episode wastes no time bringing the Robots into Belinda’s life. They drop in, break down some walls, terrify some nurses, and vaporise Lucy from number 7’s cat. RIP kitty. But things don’t happen so fast as to deny us a brief moment with the enigmatic and fourth-wall-breaking Mrs Flood. She’s up to her usual spooky shit. Very little new to report there. The question one must ask, however, is whether Belinda lives near where Ruby lived, or does Mrs Flood get about?

The Doctor tries to save Belinda, but as he’s chasing her, both she and the Doctor experience a “schwup,” in the space-time continuum, causing them to arrive at their destination at different points in time. Their destination? Missbelindachandra One is a planet whose name I would have read as gibberish the first few times in a book but is simply Belinda’s name as it appears on the star certificate, sans spacing, plus one. The Robots are the merciless hatchetmen of an imbicilic AI Generator. This is one of those rare moments where Doctor Who referencing current events doesn’t feel painfully dated, as the AI debate still rages on. You’ll be happy to know that anything you ever read on my blog is always 100% me. Fuck AI.

The Doctor has ingratiated himself into society on Missbelindachandra One. He holds the prestigious title of historian, which, when you consider megalomanics and their attitude toward accurate history must have been torture to the Doctor. Can you imagine trying to spin the AI Generator’s status as a bronze Torbjorn main as something cool? The Doctor truly is selfless. I’d have been stealing shit from the office every day. Call it quiet quitting, I call it fighting the power. My wibbly wobbly timey wimey lunch breaks would redefine the meaning of thirty minutes. Though, I do find the timing all to be a bit off. The Doctor says it took him a long time to rise to the role of Historian, but he’d been there for 6 months before Sasha 55 discovered him. Though, as we’ve learned from the Eleventh Doctor, any time sitting still is interminable. In an episode so fucky, it’s ironic that that’s the only timeline that confuses me.

Spoilers for the 1994 Jean-Claude Van Damme action sci-fi movie “Timecop,” but this episode reminded me of Timecop. Particularly, the moment when the evil Senator MacComb touches himself from another timeline, and the two melt into a puddle. It left an impression on 11-year-old me as it was one more way, like quicksand, which could totally kill me. Previously on Doctor Who, two of the same object or person co-existing has a plethora of effects, especially when those two items or people touch. Rose Tyler holds baby Rose Tyler, and the walls of reality weaken. Amy Pond touches her younger self, and nothing happens. Two of the same sonic screwdriver throw sparks. These diplomas throw us into a trippy Troughtonesque psychedelia where people age in and out of form like a Chris Cunningham video. It's a stunning bit of film making, and that shit reminded me of Timecop. 

Much of this episode reminded me of other stories. We have echoes of “The Girl in the Fireplace,” with a society of automatons (and people) taking a name too literally. My sister and I are watching through modern Who at the moment, and we found weird parallels within “Dinosaurs on a Spaceship.” The villainous Solomon even spurred my sister into saying “Incels make the best villains.” Too true, Rachelle. Too true. But the story which I thought of the most was the Seventh Doctor adventure, “Paradise Towers.” You have a dystopian future where society is thrown into chaos by an overzealous artificial intelligence. My friend Gerry and I both commented that the moment Manny showed up, we both thought of Pex. The big evil robot faces even compliment each other. I also thought of Futurama’s Femputer, which is really secretly a Fembot, which is itself a reference to The Wizard of Oz.

A man behind a curtain is exactly the issue. Alan Budd is our AI Generator. After Belinda inadvertently got Alan kidnapped ten years in the past (thanks to the schwup), he became a sadistic ruler over Missbelindachandrakind. However, due to a fault in programming, he runs on an 8-part cycle, rendering him and his robot thugs unable to hear every ninth word. Because of this, a rebellion was able to form against the AI Generator. But he too is fighting his own rebellion against himself, the Alan part of him that exists within every ninth moment yearns for death. He’s a pathetic figure, really. He’s an idiot’s idea of power. A very apt archetype for today’s leadership. I like to think it was a conscious decision on the effects department’s behalf to make one of his arms way bigger than the other. Alan is clearly working out at Onan’s Gym. It really is the cherry on top of an already stunning design.

Davies’ season openers are usually airier romps. Something to dip our toes back into the world of Doctor Who. Aspects reminded me of “Smith and Jones,” when the Judoon force the Doctor and his new companion into meeting through kidnapping. “Star Wars: The Force Awakens,” while initially praised as a return in tone to the Star Wars franchise, has since been reappraised (perhaps unfairly) as a rehash of the original film. Similar criticisms have been lobbied toward RTD, which accuse him of recycling older concepts from Doctor Who. It comes with the territory when a writer returns to a franchise. You’re bound to see some of the same themes. But Doctor Who does this a lot. “The Hungry Earth/Cold Blood” is basically a rehash of “The Silurians,” with a dash of “Frontios” thrown in for good measure. “Rise of the Cybermen/The Age of Steel” is a reimagining of the origins of the Cybermen, swapping the mirrored “Tenth Planet” of Mondas for an alternate reality Earth. We’re in season two of this new version of the show, expect to see more “remixing” of the classics. You’re old now.

One thing which I hoped Davies would do is chill out a bit. Stop trying so hard and just let loose a little. This feels like that. When Rose Noble gave her speech about being non-binary in “The Star Beast,” I complained that it felt a bit clunky. It had that awkward David Lynch is your uncle telling transphobes to fix their hearts or die energy to it. It comes out a bit weird, but his heart is in the right place. But with this story, it felt more natural. Sure, lines like “You’ve taken coercive control and made it complete control of the whole planet,” are a bit on the nose, but as I said earlier, the camp tone affords those moments. This all feels very deliberate and considered.

Much of the script feels thoughtful, which in turn proves to be thought-provoking. One aspect to science fiction I’ve always wondered about was whether “humans” in things like Star Wars are like us. Belinda asks a question that you seldom hear come up in sci-fi, and that is whether or not Missbelindachandrakind share a similar physiology to humans. I love that not only does Davies ask the question, but he even takes the time to discuss the differences for no reason other than flavour. It’s nice to see Davies having fun with the ideas he’s bringing up. This tells me he’s engaging with his own concepts and developing them in a way that says, “Thank god we have more writers this year.” He’s not just in love with his ideas, he’s exploring them.

Some fans will have been disappointed that the skeletal ray gun effect from the trailers wasn’t the result of Daleks. I even saw fan theories that Alan’s golden form was the new look for Omega. This is exactly why I stay away from fan speculation as it’s never accurate. However, one clarification from the trailer for which I was grateful was the origin of the Doctor’s cream coloured costume. While the annoying side of the internet was busy melting down over the Doctor’s blue kilt, I was quietly hating on the cream coloured costume that he wears throughout this episode. Ncuti Gatwa’s Doctor Who costumes have been rather varied, but generally keep to a few themes. We see a recurrence of tartan patterns, overcoats, and tight fitting shirts. His costume here is the only one from the trailer which felt wrong for the Doctor. So I am very pleased that there was a story reason he was dressed so drab.

Ncuti and Varada have believable chemistry. I like that it’s not so cut and dry. The Doctor is trying to be flashy and cryptic, whereas Belinda is reserved and direct. She doesn’t appreciate the Doctor’s showing off, which is a quality I have always admired in companions. If you read my article about older companions, you’ll know I appreciate their less-than-starry-eyed approach to the Doctor. Donna Noble, Evelyn Smythe, Ian and Barbara, Tegan; none had time for the Doctor’s shit. Belinda is in good company, and I like that she holds the Doctor to a higher standard. Belinda has a good head on her shoulders. She won’t put her skills as a nurse to waste. And she certainly won’t let someone die in her name. She’s also brave in a way I admire. She’s ready to sacrifice herself to save lives.

One aspect of the Doctor and Belinda’s relationship that I’m less into is something RTD seems to be doing more of recently. Instances where two characters experience a lifetime over a short period to insta-bond them is a weak story device. Whatever method they employ to fast-forward character bonding steals real moments of discovery between the actors and the audience. There’s showing, and there’s telling, and this was telling. It doesn’t feel earned, it feels hollow. It’s the weakest element of this episode and I wish they would stop doing this type of shit. What’s the hurry? Why does the Doctor need to state how much he cares about and knows Belinda now? What purpose does that serve other than to reveal too much of the Doctor’s interiority? Shouldn’t we, as an audience, trust the Doctor’s judgment in people by this point? It feels cheap because it is cheap.

Despite the episode’s daft energy, real stakes are established beyond a cartoonish cat skeleton disbursing into the ether. The Doctor’s friend Sasha 55 is unceremoniously cut down by Robots moments after discussing her future travels with the Doctor. The way she was talking to the Doctor like “Take me to the stars,” she may as well have painted a target on her back. It’s the Doctor Who equivalent of a policeman one day from retirement. For their sake, we pretend to be shocked when they die. But we knew. We knew. That isn’t to say that losing Sasha 55 wasn’t an effective moment- quite the opposite. Evelyn Miller gives an effective performance in the short time she’s onscreen. I know people give Ncuti grief for crying too easily, but here it’s totally appropriate. We’re reminded of other would-be companions who didn’t live to see the day. Lynda with a Y. Rita from “The God Complex.” Astrid Peth. And now Sasha 55. RIP Sasha 55. I liked you better than “Orphan 55.”

Watching Belinda walk toward her fate of marrying the AI Generator and becoming incased in gold gave me flashes of Han Solo on his way to the carbonite freezing chamber. The orange lighting pushing through the foggy clouds cast a brilliant glow on Varada’s face, convincing me that she was always meant to be a part of the Star Wars universe. This was her “Empire Strikes Back” moment for sure. The strength in the moment comes from Belinda’s choice not to hide. The Doctor and Manny were working out a plan that sounded foolhardy at best. Anyone within earshot would know it was a doomed mission. Belinda alerts the Robots to her location. She goes willingly. There’s a selflessness to her actions that screams Doctor Who companion far more than the Doctor witnessing her life could ever achieve. Her brand of self-sacrifice is heartbreaking to see, and I wonder if it's completely healthy. I hope they explore that.

The same sombre tone follows us into the ending of the story. When the Doctor fails to bring Belinda back to her own time, we’re shown images of a wrecked earth floating in space. Something or someone has removed or destroyed the earth, and it’s legitimately creepy. It’s giving “The Stolen Earth,” and I’m here for it, again. Though the “Planet of the Apes” style half Statue of Liberty must have been a massive blow to the Weeping Angels. That was like one of their tallest soldiers. I joke, but I also don’t joke. I had to sit through “The Angels Take Manhattan,” and now you’re telling me it meant nothing? It makes you ask the wrong questions in the moment. Questions like “Isn’t that thing alive?” “Is it dead now?” And “Why is it always the top of the statue? Why not the feet?”

I mentioned previously that I might try and write these reviews along with a corresponding Saturday morning cartoon. However, I believe it was my adherence to this bit that delayed this article. After I had watched “The Robot Revolution,” I felt a surge of positive energy about Doctor Who and I really just wanted to sit in silence for a bit. I usually take that as a good sign after watching something. When I sit there quietly absorbing everything I’ve just seen. But when I hit play on that episode of Spider-Woman, the moment ended. So I don’t want to do that anymore. It seemed a fun idea at the time, but I would rather just abide in the time and space allotted to me by Doctor Who. A time which might not always be there. A space so fantastic that Doctor Who can exist within it. Here’s to season three.