Behind the Sofa - The Collaborative Doctor Who Blog

The Perfect 10.

The Empty Child & The Doctor Dances wins Hugo Award for Best Dramatic Presentation, Short Form.  Written by Steven Moffat and directed by James Hawes.  Wikipedia entry lists the competition and here is the vote breakdown.  Seems to have been a close run thing with Battlestar Galactica: Pegasus. [via]

Update:  On his blog, Paul Cornell describes picking up the award on behalf of Steven Moffat.

"This was their finest hour..."

A joint review of The Empty Child and The Doctor Dances.

There’s a select band of Doctor Who stories often mentioned by fans as being the ones they do or would use to convince sceptical friends and family of just how good this silly little series we know and love so well can really be. The likes of City of Death, The Caves of Androzani and so on and so forth. Now the new series has produced such a story, one that makes you really proud of the programme and must surely remind even the most jaded of fans of what they love about it. Yes, The Empty Child / The Doctor Dances looks set to become that most wonderful of things, a bona fide Doctor Who ‘classic’.

With so much so good about this story, the real question when writing a review is where to start? Well, the thinking has long been that a Doctor Who story can only ever be as good as its script, and there’s no doubting that Steven Moffat has produced what must be one of the most accomplished efforts of the new series to date, and the series as a whole of all time. Anybody familiar with his work on the sitcom Coupling – particularly episodes such as the season two finale The End of the Line – will know just how adept Moffat is at plotting, threading together all the strands of a complex story. The Empty Child / The Doctor Dances is not an overly complex affair, but it is superbly structured.

From the explanation of why the three disparate alien elements – the TARDIS crew, Jack and the Chula ambulance – have all descended upon Blitz-torn 1941 London, to the explanation of what has happened to the eponymous child and its fellow gas mask-laden victims, to the child’s connection with Nancy and the ultimate resolution of the plot, it all works perfectly. Nothing it made too obvious or too subtle, and nothing is left dangling – it’s all wonderfully controlled and laid out at a well-pitched pace, it’s almost like a model of how to construct good television drama and superb Doctor Who.

Plotting is not the only string to Moffat’s bow, however, not by a long shot. The Ninth Doctor has probably never been better than he is here uttering Moffat’s lines – of particular note is the beginning of the second episode, as the Doctor and Jack converse about guns and bananas. “A good source of potassium!” indeed! At times it feels like classic Tom Baker era-stuff, although Eccleston also does things it’s hard to imagine the Fourth Doctor doing, such as his sheer joy at the end when he realises the problem has been solved and “everybody lives!” This Doctor has been through so much that his delight at the way everything has come together is particularly infectious, and once again he’s the brave, happy, heroic adventurer we’d all love to travel with, which it has to be said he hasn’t always been at times this season. Moffat also gives a knowing wink to the suddenly all-purpose sonic screwdriver – “Setting 2428!” – and creates possibly the first instance in the entire history of the series of the time honoured “Doctor who?” gag being used and not being embarrassing or annoying.

Interestingly, this handling of the Doctor leaves Rose at times, particularly in the first episode, slipping back more into the traditional companion role than ever before, although this isn’t a complaint. It’s nice to see her taken down a peg or two, namely by being left dangling from a barrage balloon hanging over London! She does get more into her typical Rose style as the story progresses, however, and her teasing of the Doctor over his dancing abilities. Of course, she also manages to swoon into the arms of the story’s leading guest star, and new companion, Captain Jack Harkness, excellently played by John Barrowman. Having only ever experienced Barrowman before as a presenter of Live & Kicking on Saturday mornings a decade ago I wasn’t really sure quite what to expect from Captain Jack, but I absolutely loved him – charismatic and confident without ever seeming too irritatingly cocky or arrogant. He brings an interesting new dynamic to the TARDIS crew, and I’ll be extremely interested to see if he continues to be handled as well in the next three episodes of the series, with Russell T Davies this time feeding him his lines.

Barrowman may have made an impact as Jack, but if awards were to be handed out for this episode then he’d have a hard fight for ‘best supporting character’ from Nancy, as wonderfully played by Florence Hoath. She’s a real discovery, and I hope that on the strength of her performance here Hoath goes a long way in the future. Nancy is part lovable cockney sparrow braving the Blitz, but there’s a lot more beneath the surface, shades of darkness as well as a world-weary kind of knowledge she seems too young for, and of course the secret eventually revealed by the Doctor at the end of the story. In fact, all of the child actors in the story deserve credit – Doctor Who doesn’t have a fantastic record with the performances of youngsters, but all of Nancy’s urchins were superb, and they never felt false or awkward, as is often the danger with putting young children on screen.

Mention too should go to Richard Wilson as the only other really notable turn in the story – he has a surprisingly small role, but he plays it excellently and gets to deliver one of the laugh-out-loud comedy lines at the end of the second episode, having had one of the most horrific moments in the first.

That blend of humour and darkness is this story in microcosm, really. Moffat’s background in television comedy means that some humour was probably to have been expected, but none of it is overly obvious or ever seems out of place. Indeed, the humour works well to contrast with the darkness present in much of the story. So for every scene of the Doctor becoming an unwitting stand-up comic, Jack wielding a banana or Constantine asking a patient if she’s sure she counted her legs properly, we have the oddness of the TARDIS phone ringing, the blank-faced ranks of the gas-masked zombies, and of course the haunting cries of ‘are you my mummy?’ There’s also a definite Quatermass tinge to proceedings with the influence being caused by a crashed spaceship in the heart of London, although the influence of Nigel Kneale’s serials over British television science-fiction is so great that it’s perhaps hard to tell whether such referencing is conscious or whether its simply bred into the psyche of enthusiasts of the genre in this country.

Yes, this story has the spookiest imagery we’ve seen so far in this series, and just as a generation of 1970s children seems to remember The Green Death as “the one with the giant maggots”, so the children of 2005 will probably grow up to speak nostalgically of “the one with the gas masks”. As well as being scripted as such, a lot of the literal darkness of the episode has to do with the highly accomplished direction of James Hawes, who shoots the thing like a feature film and has some delightfully noir-ish touches. My particular favourite shot was the pull-back from Jack’s cockpit through the open doors of the TARDIS into the console room to reveal that the Doctor and Rose had arrived to save him – a bit of a cheat in having the TARDIS land without the usual sound effect, but I’m more than willing to excuse that for the sake of such a nice piece of camerawork. Certainly, it’s good to know that Hawes will be returning to the series to helm the forthcoming Christmas special, at least.

The only instance where I felt Hawes did mis-step slightly was with the cliffhanger ending to episode one. While it was certainly much tighter and more effective that the conclusion to Aliens of London, it did still linger a little too long on the approaching menace. Similarly, Murray Gold’s incidentals – which fitted the action very well on the whole throughout the story, with some nicely atmospheric, suitably creepy moments – went all Rose on us during the cliffhanger recap in the second episode, for no apparent reason and completely against the mood of the story.

Aside from these very negligible points, however, the entire production team seems to have really pulled together to turn this story into something special. Set design, costume, lighting, and of course the wonderful effects from both Mike Tucker’s model team and the CGI specialists at The Mill… This is a perfect example if ever there was one of a massive group of people pulling together and giving their all to create a really special piece of television, reminding you of just how good this medium can be when it’s at its best.

The whole story is just so brilliantly made, written and acted that it’s impossible for all but the most churlish to find much more to criticise, I would think. And all the more intriguing for being a rare example of a Doctor Who story where there isn’t really a villain to speak of. The ending is uplifting and it really is nice to see the Doctor actually get to save everybody for a change, even the nobly self-sacrificing Jack. It’s so Jolly, the TARDIS team even get time for a nice little happy dance at the end, which despite seeming almost tacked-on and not part of the main story, works perfectly, and I wouldn’t have lost it for the world.

In short, this is wonderful, wonderful stuff. Doctor Who at its very best. If every other episode of the new series had been a complete disaster – which they haven’t been not by a long shot – then it still would have been worth bringing the show back for these two episodes along. I already can’t wait for Moffat’s episode in season two, but for now I shall just have to content myself by going to watch the story again…

Biggles Combs His Hair...

Children are just plain bloody scary. Whether part of a gang of hoodies menacing a pack of shopping centre root vegetables who've dragged their podgy bloated carcasses off the sofa long enough to spend some of their wonga, or acting like Jasmine Breaks (for all the wrong reasons) or with a gas mask strapped to their faces, rasping like Lord Vader, in the shadows of 1941 London.

The Empty Child is certainly not empty of spectacle. From the TARDIS zipping about in the vortex (shouldn't this, by all rights, be accompanied by some Dudley Simpson cymbal action?) to the arial scenes over London as Rose clings onto the barrage balloon's flapping tether. Them Mill boys are creating some stunning work.

As the air raid siren goes, bringing the curtain down, prematurely, on a promising stand-up routine from the Doctor, Londoners head off to the shelters. Ah yes, the humble Anderson Shelter, who would have thought that after World War II they'd have a new lease of life as a defence against the latest Supermarionation shows broadcast on the fledgling ITV channel (although if a copy of the TV Times from 50 years in the future had fallen through a wormhole in time I doubt that the founding fathers would have even bothered setting up the station, preferring to spend their time more productively by, for example, instigating an annual national paint drying competition).

Captain Jack Harkness... he's sooooo mauve. Here we have a very, very interesting chap and I'm glad that we're going to find out more and more of him over course of the next 4 episodes. There's something unnatural about his cleft chin (at least I was unnaturally drawn to it), he looks like an early version of Clark Kent. The hum of his ship reminded me of something, almost TARDIS-like, but not quite. Where have I heard that before?

I've always been a huge fan of Moffat's work; Press Gang, Joking Apart, Coupling and wasn't for one second expecting a Curse of Fatal Death style piece. He's packed this with some genuine terror and lots of very, very funny lines.

It's got the feel of something much more epic than a television series. And looks more like a romanic wartime film in more places than not. Except it's like no other war time romantic film you've ever seen as people start sprouting gas masks. Poor old Big Ben - it's really been put through the ringer in this series, used as a parking tether and demolished by the Slitheen craft. Something that's mentioned in Project: Who? was that they're trying to use as many British landmarks and familiar features as possible, cos everyone knows what a yellow US school bus looks like after countless films and movies. And people, it's time to redress the balance.

The Doctor's talk to Nancy about one tiny damp little island standing up against the German war machine was another very moving piece. Nancy, in her own little way, doing her part in the war effort in a bit to save the world. And the shot where the Doctor opens the gates of Albion Hospital and the camera cranes down as the Doctor walks through the gates to the hospital building wouldn't have looked out of place in a Burton directed Batman film.

And the scene in the hospital with Doctor Constantine talking about how, before the war, he used to be a father and a grandfather but now he's just a doctor, and the Doctor replies saying he knows what that feels like, was very revealing and presumably alludes to the Time War and the fact that he is/was a Grandfather. Hope that we'll get to see more of Richard Wilson in part two. As he starts sprouting the gas mask it's really quite disturbing and probably one of the images of the series.

And for one it all comes together: the music works very well to augment the suspense and horror of the piece and the direction is perfect too (and this from someone who has directed the dreaded Holby City), all that shadow stuff is wonderful. Should herald in a golden age for child psychologists across the land.

Louder than Bombs

I must admit, I hadn’t really looked forward to this episode. Because ever since his announcement as a part of the writing team, I’d dreaded Steven Moffatt’s two-parter. Now, this has nothing to do with that love it/hate it skit he did for Comic Relief all those years ago; more the fact I just can’t stand ‘Coupling’. For me it’s one of those awful attempts we as a nation do to ape some transatlantic success, in this case Friends. And it’s so full of beautiful, successful professionals, forever navel-gazing about ‘who they are’ and ‘what they want’ from life that it’s just about enough to make your teeth rot.

So before you accuse me of preconceived bias, I’m glad to say I really, really enjoyed ‘The Empty Child’. For all his ‘Curse of Fatal Death’ send-ups before, Moffatt has produced 45 minutes of intriguing, sinister television. I won’t bother to say that - thanks to director James Hawes - it’s also a richly atmospheric piece; because we all know the BBC can do that sort of thing in their sleep. But there’s a real attention to detail here, underlining the period trappings. And Moffatt isn’t just interested in the 1941 Blitz as a hook to hang his story on, there’s also an intelligent grasp of the social reality of the time; of a London forever in fear of death falling from the skies (here, perhaps, a little more literally than history books recall). And the Nancy-led group of back-street kids - risking their lives back in the bomb-torn capital rather than remain in the staid, country retreat of their evacuation - have a refreshingly natural demeanour; belying the oft true notion of over-earnest child actors.

What I also liked a lot was the hint of Sapphire and Steel that ran throughout. From the World War II imagery - which echoed the S&S episode in which a ghostly soldier haunts an abandoned railway station - to such sinister-ness as the Empty Child looking for his Mummy (nice moment when the TARDIS’ own, fake, phone starts to ring…must be an Indian call centre trying to get through!), there’s an attempt to make the ordinary supernatural that recalls the McCallum ’n’ Lumley show at its very best. And if ‘The Empty Child’ lacks the depth of more character-led episodes like ‘Dalek’ and ‘Father’s Day’ - a factor not to its detriment, just providing a break from more heartfelt fare - then it does at least have the consistent subtext that things aren’t what they look like. Be they gas-masked kids, physical injuries or time-travelling conmen.

On the subject of Captain Jack, John Barrowman makes an impressive debut. Part arrogant Yank (again seeing Moffatt paying more than just lip-service to this era), part matinee idol and all charming, dashing hero, Jack should - allowing for future development - make a far more interesting ‘anti-companion’ than Adam Mitchell. His scenes with Rose are pure electric, at last providing her with a believable, likeable man to flirt with. And flirt they do. Moffatt is clearly interested in the mechanics that attract one person to another (as in ’Coupling’) And it’s interesting to note how Rose reacts to Jack almost in terms of how he compares with the Doctor; where she sees the Doctor as ‘lo-tech’ and unplanned, Jack is all Big Boys’ Toys and method. Which underlines how - to Rose - Jack is a younger, more dashing and more exciting version of the Doctor. And he may be an intergalactic conman, but there’s more than a hint of a certain British secret agent to Jack. If you’re still not convinced, then check out that invisible spaceship reveal again - blatant James Bond bravado if ever there was.

Just in case you’re worried - especially after last week - that Eccleston’s Doctor was getting side-lined again, there’s some great dramatic and comedic moments for him to get his teeth into. I absolutely love the way the Doctor inadvertently becomes a stand-up comic in the nightclub (as where, or more specifically when, he has landed slowly dawns on him) and the Doctor’s easy banter with the refugee kids highlights that here’s a Doctor more comfortable with the innocence of children than the world-weary cynicism of adulthood. There’s a lot to make of some otherwise throwaway lines throughout ‘The Empty Child’: not least of which the Doctor suggesting that he too is a refugee and how he recognises the look of loss in Nancy’s eyes (with whom the Doctor, like Rose with Jack, strikes up a Doctor/companion style dynamic). And Eccleston is again afforded an iconic speech, as he extols the virtues of Britain’s refusal to fall to the German war machine. Such an elegy to ‘indomitableness’ will no doubt echo most with long-term fans of a certain era…

Given its pre-broadcast hype as the scariest story of this series, there was always a likelihood that the reality was going to disappoint. And while there’s nothing in ‘The Empty Child’ which will have anyone other than the very young scurrying behind those inevitable sofas, the shocks are nevertheless well-handled. And you’ve gotta admit there’s something very creepy about those old-style gas masks; especially when mixed with the plaintive voice of a small child looking for his mummy. The whole notion of a shared plague of physical injuries is certainly novel - even if these are little more than masked zombies - and certainly the episode’s money shot (Richard Wilson literally vomiting up the mask which subsequently consumes his face) is worthy of some of the show’s best ‘body horror’ moments of the halcyon Hinchcliffe/Holmes days.

But what surprised me most - given my allergy to ‘Coupling’ - was how funny this episode was. Even Rose’s Ginger Spice-style Union Jack T-shirt seems to be some kind of attack on faux Britpop national pride (making her an amusing ‘target’ for the German planes as she dangles invitingly from the barrage balloon). And Jack assuming that the Doctor too is in some sort of disguise (as a U-Boat commander) - along with the ongoing ‘Mr Spock’ joke - all help to undercut the otherwise grim tone in just the right way. Even the Doctor answering the TARDIS’ phone like he’s never, ever used one before (‘Hello, I’m the Doctor…how can I help you?’) is a million miles away from the painfully forced jokes of ‘Rose’ and ‘Aliens in London’. And it’s a sign of how confident the writers are now that all these jokes work as a contrast to the established characters of the previous eight episodes.

Things not to like? Well, I’m still not totally convinced at how Rose started climbing a rope which turned out to be a balloon (did she not, once, think of looking up?). And the Empty Child’s POV seems a little reminiscent of all the other alien viewpoints we’ve seen this season. But these are niggles, really (as is pointing out how the sonic screwdriver is now some sort of tri-corder, as well as everything else). Oh, and that cliff-hanger - as with ‘Aliens of London’ - is another case of dropping the ball when it comes to knowing when to cut; as some more prudent editing would have surely made for an iconic freeze-frame. And why, having removed the next episode’s teaser from before the end credits, did the BBC negate such prudence by showing a trailer immediately afterwards?

Sorry to end on a bit of a downer, but it shows just how good ‘The Empty Child’ otherwise was (I haven’t even found time to mention that glorious shot of Blitz-torn London as Rose dangles from her balloon…oh, now I have). There’s enough intrigue set up here that you just hope and pray that the payoff lives up. What’s the secret of Room 802? What’s Nancy’s role in all this, as we know that she knows more than she’s letting on (and notice how she uses the phrase ‘Police Box’ without batting an eyelid)? Where does Jack - and indeed the Tula Warship - fit in the overall ‘Time War’ story? And does Albion Hospital have more significance as the location of the Space-pig’s autopsy in ‘Aliens in London’? But - most of all - how will an episode called ‘The Doctor Dances’ manage to answer all this while skirting the inherent embarrassment such a title suggests?

I can hear those air-raid sirens again…

Who's Your Mummy?

Right, no pussy-footing around here. No agonising, rationalising or soul-searching is required: The Empty Child is the best episode of Doctor Who that I've seen since, oh, the last one.

There's so much to praise it's hard to know where to start: a proactive Doctor (finally!); spectacular special effects (a cross between Band of Brothers and Peter Pan); exemplary direction; a score that complimented the tension perfectly; note-perfect performances (especially from Richard Wilson and Florence Hoath); atmospheric lighting; an interesting new character in the form of smarm-ball Captain Jack; and a Bad Wolf reference so subtle I almost missed it completely. It was very witty too ("it's either Marxism in action or a West End musical" - "U-Boat Captain?!!") and it managed to deliver the "Doctor? Doctor Who?" chestnut without making me cringe.

The plot was fascinating too (I loved the Quatermass feel) and I can't wait to see how it all pans out. It also proves beyond doubt that two-parter's are the way to go as the story has room to breathe and develop, and at no point did I feel short-changed or frustrated by the unfolding narrative.

But let's face facts - what sets this episode above many of the other episodes in this, admittedly fantastic, new series is that this is our favourite show doing what it does best: scaring the living crap out of the kids. I'm thirty five years old and it freaked the hell out of me.

It was pant-wettlingly scary, with a level of surrealism that bordered perilously close to sadomasochism. Personally, I think they went a little too far. They'll probably receive thousands of complaints and the DVD will end up with a 15 certificate, especially if the Dalek farrago is anything to go by. I'm so thrilled. Hinchcliffe and Holmes would be proud.

I mean, come on - is there anything more disturbing in the history of this show than the sight of Doctor Constantine plaintively calling for his mummy as he grotesquely warps into one of the most iconic and sinister images ever to grace this series? If the bright May sunshine hadn't been bouncing off the TV screen I might have hid behind the sofa myself. Or, in my case, inside in, as I live in a caravan.

10/10 - the bar just got raised ridiculously high. I just hope that the second part doesn't knock it down again.