Three years ago, Doctor Who fandom was quite a
different place. The new series had just entered production, and the minutest
scrap of detail about it was fought over by hungry fans like a pack of hyenas
tearing into a fresh corpse. We’d been waiting years for this, and every little
piece of new information that leaked out or was posted online in the form of a
blurry photo from a Cardiff street at night was welcomed with enthusiasm and
debate.
The only female Doctor Who fans anybody had ever
heard of tended to be American women the size of two houses with deeply
strange Paul McGann fixations.
Ah yes, those debates. We were the old guard back then – men
almost to a man, with the only female Doctor Who fans anybody had ever
heard of tending to be American women the size of two houses with deeply
strange Paul McGann fixations. And boy, could we get into a tizz about some odd
stuff.
The first photograph of the new series TARDIS prop that came
to our eyes was taken by Roger Anderson, the splendid chap who ran the late,
lamented Doctor Who cuttings archive. You can see it here.
And what did this image provoke? Joy at seeing such a fine reconstruction of
the legendary old prop? Pleasure at the knowledge that the show was really
happening, and it was all real and going to be seen on screen?
Well… yes. But there was also a degree – a worryingly large
degree – of nonsense on the Outpost Gallifrey forums. For example, this bit
from a chap calling himself Nuallain, but I could have picked any one from
dozens of similar complaints. Mr Nuallain’s verdict on the new TARDIS prop? “It
*does* look squatter, which disappointed my hugely on first sight. I agree with
Etiem's assessment that while it may be *slightly* wider the main thing that
looks off is the size of the windows. Far too big.”
Now, Steven Moffat is a member of the OG forums, and has
posted there a couple of hundred times over the past three years or so. I’ve no
idea whether he read that particular thread directly or whether someone told
him about it but, whatever the case, last night the OG forum and all its
various mad and strange folk became fixed in the history of the series like a
bug in amber, as Billy the policeman told us that the TARDIS couldn’t be a real
police box because the phone was just a dummy and “the windows are the wrong
size.”
Hurrah for online fandom and all its bizarreness!
“The angels have the phone box” will be gracing t-shirts
at conventions across the land before too long.
Pleasingly, this little nod to the olden days – which 2004
already seems like by now – seems to have gone down in the spirit with which it
was intended over on OG, which is a nice surprise. It was just one of many such
quotable and amusing lines Moffat sprinkled throughout the episode like icing
sugar on a doughnut – “The angels have the phone box” will be gracing t-shirts
at conventions across the land before too long, and indeed somebody was already
flogging them on CafePress within minutes of last night’s episode coming to an
end.
That Moffat writes sharp and amusing dialogue tends to be
one of the given factors in any of his episodes. The other is that he will come
up with an interesting plot with a clever twist to it, which he once again did
last night with Blink. Moffat is one of the most popular writers
generally in fandom, with many believing that he should be installed as the
next Lord Lieutenant of Whoshire as and when Russell T Davies moves on. From
reading interviews with Moffat I have my doubts as to whether he’d particularly
want the top job, but there’s no doubting that of all the other writers working
on the show, he is the one whose appointment to it would be most eagerly
welcomed by the majority of the fans.
Knowing that an episode written by the Scotsman is about to be shown is
like knowing England are about to play in the World Cup final, but with the
crucial difference of knowing for certain that they go on to win it.
He is by far and away my own personal favourite of the new
series writers – I like the work of nearly all of them a great deal, but a
Steven Moffat episode just seems to have an extra sheen of something special to
it. Knowing that an episode written by the Scotsman is about to be shown is
like knowing England are about to play in the World Cup final, but with the
crucial difference of knowing for certain (perhaps having been told by a time
traveller!) that they go on to win it. You have all of the excitement and anticipation
of the great event, with none of the worry and stress.
It’s perhaps surprising that this episode was such a
success, given that the Doctor and Martha were almost entirely absent, but the
Doctor had just about enough of a presence through the DVDs to ensure that he
still felt like an integral part of proceedings. Also, seeing him slowly
revealed as a powerful and mysterious character to Sally also helped with the
sense of mystery and intrigue about him, something that also came into play
last week. The DVD conversation itself was one of the cleverest ideas I can
remember seeing in Doctor Who, particularly the small section of it that
worked perfectly in two different conversations.
For the second story in a row we have an adaptation of a
piece of Doctor Who prose, brought to television by its own original
writer. What I did on my Christmas holidays, by Sally Sparrow originally
appeared in the 2006 Doctor Who Annual, the one published by Panini
before they had to rename them Storybooks so that BBC Books could come
up with their own, by all accounts sub-par, branded “Annual” efforts. You can
read the story online on the BBC website now, here,
and although the story has been expanded and chopped and changed a fair bit,
the basic idea of the Doctor being trapped in the past and needing Sally
Sparrow to help him is still there. Perhaps we should have this more often, Doctor
Who stories being adapted and improved from their “first draft” form in
other media – it seems to be working well so far!
And no,
not just because she took her clothes off in it, before you all start!
Sally has been aged up a good decade or so for television,
however, so that she can be played by the excellent Carey Mulligan, who
impressed me last year in The Amazing Mrs Pritchard on BBC One. (And no,
not just because she took her clothes off in it, before you all start!). I know
it’s become something of a tradition that as soon as a young female guest star
gives a half-decent performance everyone starts clamouring for her to be made the
next companion (or even, sometimes, to immediately replace the current
companion), but I would like to see more of Ms Sparrow one of these days.
Surely if ever a character in the new series cried out for a return appearance
– and more screen time with the Doctor – then it’s her?
Finlay Robertson as Larry had a slighter character to play,
but I thought he gave Larry some warmth and humour that stopped him just short
of being the stereotypical geek he could have been. He actually put me in mind
a little of a more sane and sensible version of Jeff from Moffat’s Coupling,
although that might just be me projecting my own expectations and knowledge of
the author’s previous work onto the text.
I don’t recall having been frightened by an episode of Doctor
Who since the 1993 Genesis of the Daleks repeat on BBC2, when I was
eight years old, so I’m probably a bit too old to be unsettled by the series
now. In fact I rarely find that it gets me all that emotionally affected in any
direction – I’ve never cried at it or anything melodramatic like that – but
then again little television does, so it’s not unique to the series. It’s hard
for me to say then how scary the Weeping Angels were, but they were a certainly
a terrific concept that I can imagine might well have unsettled some children
across the country.
Why, as
casting director Andy Pryor points out on the MP3 commentary, don’t they just close
one eye at a time instead of blinking?
You could go on about Blink’s brilliance, I think,
but to simply sit here and list everything that was great about it – the way
the Angels killed, the Doctor’s brief appearances, Billy the policeman, the
creepy old house, the final meeting at the end – would just end up boring
everyone. There are little complaints you can make, or at least small issues to
raise – why did the Angel bung a rock at Sally at the start? And why, as
casting director Andy Pryor points out on the MP3 commentary and thus making me
feel less clever than I had done five minutes previously, don’t they just close
one eye at a time instead of blinking? Minor quibbles, though – and easily
excused in such a fine episode.
Before I go, a few words on last night’s edition of Doctor
Who Confidential, which was by far and away the finest episode of that
series that has ever been produced. It really gave something of the feeling of
what a magical and special series Doctor Who is, and what a special institution
the BBC itself is, or at least used to be. BBC Television Centre in London is
now no longer some marvellous, enigmatic palace where all the stars of
television live, but an increasingly empty cavern were a few sitcoms and shiny
floor shows play out their days. However, once all was different – once there
was real magic made there, and legend stalks its corridors. The show, directed
and presented by David Tennant, was a reminder of just what the BBC once was,
and what Doctor Who is and continues to be.
A great night for Doctor Who fans.