‘An ordinary man - that’s the most important thing in creation’.
If you could find just one quote from ‘Father’s Day’ that best sums up its unique blend of drama, scares and downright heart-breaking emotion, this would probably be it. Forget the science-fiction trappings and sub-textual metaphor for a minute; ‘Father’s Day’ - plain and simple - is about ordinary people making extraordinary choices. The word ‘heroic’ is sadly much abused in modern life - being attached to such divergent classes as plane-crash survivors and sportspeople. But heroism has often been a fundamental theme and cause of the Doctor’s own enduring appeal. Not for him the super-powers of a dozen comic characters; he’s just a man doing what he can for others simply because no-one else will. And such heroism has always come in many forms. The fourth Doctor gave his life to save the entire universe; the fifth to save the life of but one person. And in ‘Father’s Day’ the Doctor himself may not be the only hero; but you’d be hard-pressed to find Doctor Who more heroic than in these forty-five minutes.
It’s a simple premise. Rose asks the Doctor to take her back to November 7th, 1987 (two days before ‘Delta and the Bannermen’ 2, by the way) to see her father’s last moments at the hands of a hit-and-run driver. Driven by her Mother’s stories of his lonely last moments, Rose then asks to go back once more (the motivation for which, as with the Gelth earlier this series, the Doctor really should cotton on to a bit quicker) to be with him as he dies that fateful, ordinary day. This they do - with the neat touch that the previous Doctor and Rose are now a part of established history - but temptation proves too much, and Rose dives in to save her Dad from death; changing the world as a result. As nature’s minions arrive to ‘cleanse’ the wound this altering of time has created, not even the Doctor is immune to its temporal effects. And bereft of hope and invention, it is left to Pete Tyler to correct - as Quantum Leap would have no doubt once said - ‘what once went wrong’…
As pointed out by another critic on these pages, Rose’s journey from ordinary shop girl to heroic time-traveller spanned the first five episodes of this series. In ‘Father’s Day’, we learn of the dark sadness that propelled her to join the Doctor’s journeys. As the episode opens, Jackie recounts to a young Rose the tragic events of that leaf-strewn day back in 1987, when Rose’s Dad - while she was still a babe in arms - met his end at the wheel of a hit-and-run driver. And ever since - from the moment young Rose’s eyes light up at the idea of sharing her Dad’s final moments - she has secretly yearned to turn back the clock. Meeting the Doctor - and the extraordinary opportunities his lifestyle offers - gave her that chance; a fact the Doctor realises, when recalling how, at the end of ‘Rose’, only the prospect of time (not space) travel was enough to lure her over those Police Box doors. For Rose - and indeed ‘Rose’ - ‘Father’s Day’ is a case of coming full circle.
Forget Doctor Who, this is simply forty-five minutes of extraordinary television. For the devotees, never before has the simple premise of what happens if you alter time been executed to such affecting, devastating effect. For the casual viewers, this is an arresting story of second chances. Hands up, who wouldn’t do what Rose does, given the opportunities afforded her? Because this is where ‘Father’s Day’ scores its highest resonance; it’s the ultimate examination of what happens if you change established history; and the ultimate reason for doing so in the first place.
First things first: Billie Piper is extraordinary in this episode. For all those with little faith who were up in arms at her casting twelve months ago, this episode provides the ultimate payback. It’s a shame they already had an episode with the title, because here’s one as much deserving the title ‘Rose’ as any other. By turns touching, selfish and always believable, Piper is the emotional core of the episode; and it’s something of a roller coaster of emotions that her journey takes us on. Nurtured on the childhood stories of her Dad’s ‘adventures’, Rose is disappointed to find that reality - as it so often does - fails to live up to the hype; with Pete Tyler revealed as more of a wheeler-dealer wide-boy than the commercial ‘genius’ of Jackie’s stories. This ‘Rose’-tinted view of the past even extends to the reality of Jackie and Pete’s marriage; with hints to both his infidelities and failed business scams making Rose realise that the past is often another country that should not be visited. And through it all, Billie Piper is an absolute revelation, even given her impeccable performances before.
Taking something of a back-seat, Eccleston’s Doctor is nevertheless faultless in an episode which underlines how selfless this particular Doctor/companion dynamic is proving to be. And what most impresses here is how Eccleston underplays his Doctor’s alien reactions, such as the scene following Rose’s time-altering rescue of her Dad. Where other actors - hell, even other Doctors - would have given a virtuoso display of anger-mismanagement, Eccleston’s Doctor is all quiet and sadness. It’s a real change of pace which puts the viewer somewhat off their guard; but one entirely keeping with the Ninth Doctor’s arc. Because he knows the feeling of loss in Rose’s past which has driven her to the actions of the present? Like her, he’d go back and save Gallifrey - and his family, everyone - given the chance. But unlike her, he has nine hundred years experience to teach him the calamity that awaits if you do.
Key to this episode’s success is Paul Cornell’s debut screen-Who script. Given his background as, arguably, the most infamous fan-writer, Cornell weaves a rich tapestry of layered characterisation, gritty domestic environs and mischievous pop-cultural references (both of the period pop songs heard - ‘Never can say Goodbye’ and ‘Never Gonna give you up’ - echo Rose’s emotional, time-defying ties to her deceased Dad). And in Pete Tyler, Cornell achieves his greatest success, crafting a flesh-and-blood human being who we care about in the scant screen-time he is afforded. Perfectly played by Shaun Dingwall, Pete Tyler underlines the story’s theme of ordinariness being the most heroic thing in the world. And given that the real Pete Tyler falls somewhat short of Rose’s idealised vision, his self-sacrifice at the end (again, giving an ordinary man one chance to do something extraordinary) says as much about Doctor Who’s enduring appeal as anything else.
Cornell’s vision of the Ninth Doctor is also to be much applauded. Eccleston is given dialogue sure to become some of the most anthemic of his era, with the ‘I’ve never had a life like that’ speech to newlyweds Stuart and Sarah echoing Davison’s passionate ‘small, beautiful events’ diatribe to the Cyber-leader in ‘Earthshock’ over twenty years previously. As so often this series, the Ninth Doctor comes across as an emasculated martyr with a death-wish; which even gets granted in the ‘alternate’ reality of Rose’s interference. For jaw-dropping, what-are-they-gonna-do-now moments, the Doctor’s swallowing by one of the reapers and the TARDIS’ half-manifested destruction - leaving only its door-key behind - is hard to beat.
Director Joe Ahearne - following his star-turn with ‘Dalek’ - again shows an apparently limitless range of flair and imagination; here showcasing his talent for emotional as well as kinetic scenes. From the heads-down POV of the yet to be revealed Reapers, to the cinematic-like framing of Billie Piper’s profile following the Doctor’s ‘death’, Ahearne again makes a bold claim to be the Graeme Harper of his generation. Even his handling of what essentially becomes a traditional, base-under-siege Who story is never less than exemplary, with the Reapers in particular being original, genuinely threatening menaces (even their CGI-rendering is above par…at least for this series). But as for the story’s best special effect, then it’s hands-down the one that isn’t even a special effect at all: when the Doctor returns to the TARDIS to find, like disappointed fans at a convention, it’s just a box.
It’s an indication of just how confident this series is getting that, given the episode’s weighty, emotionally-driven tone, there is still time for some wry humour. Such as when the Doctor sits remonstrating the baby Rose for her future interference which leads them to these events, or Eccleston’s marvellous shake of the head at Jackie’s oh-so predictable incomprehension of the situation. Even Murray Gold’s music manages to - mostly - walk the right side of the tightrope between dramatic enhancement and Neighbours-lite syrupiness.
But fundamentally this is an episode which succeeds on the basis of its core belief: that being an ordinary, decent person is the most treasured thing in the whole universe. Because the most heroic thing you can do in life is to put others before you. It’s a lesson which Pete Tyler learns to his mortal cost, but in Cornell’s hands - where even his hit-and-run killer becomes a hero, staying rather than running off - Pete’s legacy ends up being more heroic than the trumped-up stories Jackie told Rose all those years before.
And how beautifully, movingly, Doctor Who is that?
I hardly ever cry when it comes to watching drama on television. It's not as if I'm not in touch with my feminine side or anything like that, it's just that TV drama is usually so anodyne it takes something very special to make me cave in and blub. In fact, I can count the number of times a TV drama has moved me to tears on one hand (the final episodes of 'GBH' and 'Babylon 5', and a little-known drama called 'One Summer' which featured the debut of a very young David Morrissey, if you're interested).
The final moments when Pete says goodbye to the daughter he never knew (and never would) initially provoked a very dispassionate "oh, that's very clever" response. Now I don't think I'll be able to watch it again without losing control of my lower lip.
Looking for all the world like small town British version of American Psycho, at least as far as hair styles and cellphone size goes, this very un-Who Who was extremely interesting. The only real connection between this and what's gone before was plenty of screaming. In fact, it was probably Rose's first proper girly companion scream, hitting a massive 7.6 on the Langford scale. 
Rose's dad was a very interesting character and I just can't believe that that's the last we've heard of him. Seemed to have the air of bit of an amateur scientist/inventor about him. Why was he involved in some fairly serious solar power stuff? The talk of all his duff genes being passed down to Rose might have been another aspect of this. Perhaps she's cursed with some sort of hidden solution to humanity's environmentally damaging energy policies and the Time War was actually brought on by the fact that the oil and fossil fuel producers of the world want her out of the way before she perfects her dad's fuel cell designs and does them all out of a job.
