Fear Her

So, my review of The Idiot's Lantern was a bit brief.  It's a problematic episode to review.  It's not a bad one - perfectly competent and not really boring.  It's not a good one, though, either - there's no real tension, or excitement, or particularly memorable humor, or strong characterizations.  Nothing really imaginative.  The one creepy idea it has - people's faces being erased - isn't done in a particularly creepy fashion.  It's very, very mediocre.  But it's also one of the rarest birds in Doctor Who: it's an episode that isn't interesting.

And that's frustrating.  Doctor Who is almost always interesting.  Even when it's bad, even when it's really, really bad, it's interesting.  The worst of the worst -- Time and the Rani, Timelash, Terminus, Nightmare of Eden, The Celestial Toymaker -- are all in some ways interesting.  They have settings and ideas that are, on some level or another, intriguing.  But The Idiot Lantern doesn't.  There's not one interesting, original, or unusual thing about it.  It's really hard to do that with Doctor Who, and maybe it deserves some sort of reward for actually pulling that off.

Fear Her is like The Idiot Lantern, except bad.  Really, really bad.  And unlike those other terrible episodes, it isn't even interesting.  It's difficult to believe that a director as good as Euros Lyn and a writer as talented as Matthew Graham could make something as fundamentally awful as The Celestial Toymaker, but by making something so terribly uninteresting, they've actually, in some ways, created something much, much worse.

The Idiot's Lantern

[2006, Season 28/Series 2, Episode 8]

Meh.


RATING:

* * ½

The Girl In the Fireplace

[2006, Season 28/Series 2, Episode 5]

Reinette: But this is absurd.  Reason tells me you cannot be real.
Doctor: Oh, you never want to listen to reason.


The Evil Wizard of Terror Moffat has returned.

This time, the horror of horrors is an army of homicidal clocks.  Because clocks are scary, right?

Well, they are now.

The villains of Girl in the Fireplace are a truly ingenious invention.  Moffat deserves a lot of credit for this, but so do director Euros Lyn and designer Neill Gorton.  It's a terrific monster, well-used by Moffat, and brilliantly delivered by Lyn.  We first and most often see them with their masks on, which are quite creepy, but the clockwork robots underneath are a masterwork.  Lyn pulls off a remarkable achievement here, managing to make them scary even unmasked in full light, a rare talent reminiscent of the better works of Wes Craven.  They're more than just frightening, though; they're fascinating and even, as the Doctor says, a beautiful piece of craftsmanship.

The Doctor's first meeting with them is beautifully done - starting with just the sound of a ticking clock in a room where the clock is broken.  Then the Doctor finds the monster under the little girl's bed.  And then, the next moment the Doctor looks, the creature is standing on the other side of the bed.  It's a brilliant little sequence, which the rest of their appearances more than live up to.  

But this story isn't about the monsters - they drive the story, yes, but the focus on the episode is on the titular girl, who turns out to be Madame du Pompadour, and the story really a love story between her and the Doctor.

... which is something we probably need to really deal with now, because the idea of the Doctor being in love isn't exactly a straightforward subject.  Many old-school fans are abjectly against it, for understandable reasons.  Certainly a sexualized romance with a 20-ish human would be unnerving, given that the Doctor is a thousand years old and a different species.  But seen as a more innocent romance, it's something that has always been a part of the show in some way.  All the way back in The Aztecs, in the very first season in 1964, the Doctor stumbled into an engagement with Cameca, which he characteristically ran away from, but it's clear from his dialogue with her and especially the closing of the story that he does have much deeper affections for her.

There are also several companions he seems to have fallen in love with - Jo Grant, Sarah Jane, and Romana most obviously.  He clearly loves a woman who can challenge him, whether in the gentle teasing of Jo or Romana's wit and intellectualism, and is certainly smitten by many of his companions.  Which is not to say there's anything sexual about these romances; after all, he's a Time Lord, and love for him wouldn't be expressed in ways that humans do.  But there are definitely hints throughout the old series that he does have romantic feelings for some of his traveling companions, even if they remain buried inside him.

So they're really romances more in the Remains of the Day style - a reserved man who will not and cannot fully admit his feelings, but who clearly has them nonetheless.  The revived series brings these much more front-and-center, though, particularly during David Tennant's reign.  Eventually, it gets to be a bit of an annoyance, but it's also worth noting that the best stories of the Tenth Doctor tend to be those with strong romantic undertones - School Reunion, Girl in the Fireplace, Doomsday, Human Nature, Silence In the Library.

Thankfully, though, there's still (usually) a certain reservation in their presentation.  Like in School Reunion, when he stops before actually saying he loves Rose, leaving the sentence unfinished.  This refusal to commit to a love is expanded on later, but it also shows up here.  For all his affections, he never tells Reinette that he loves her.  The final scenes bear this out superbly, when he runs the moment he gets the chance.  Yes, he wants to take her with him and show her the Universe, but he doesn't want to stay with her.  His home is the TARDIS because he must always be running, and the idea of another home is inconceivable to him.

Whatever the issues with a Doctor/human romance, though, it's hard to deny how beautifully Girl tells it.  Sophia Myles is simply luminous, and her intelligent, charming character a wonderful match for the Time Lord.  The affections between them are sweepingly romantic.  They're also fun; this is a couple that it's a real joy to watch together, even in their brief encounters.

Myles' performance really is something special.  I doubt the story would have had half the impact it does without her at the center of it.  It's a great part, but she raises it to stunning heights.

Of course, this begs the question of where this leaves Rose in all this.  She's obviously infatuated with the Doctor, and he certainly loves her in his way.  Her reaction to his relationship to Reinette is intriguing - she seems to accept it as what it is, accepting her Doctor as who he is, now that she's known Sarah Jane.  Piper gives a lovely, subtle performance here.

Moffat also does the brilliant trick of actually using time travel in the story, which is strangely rare on a time travel show.  It adds immensely to the romance, making it feel more like a mythical fairy tale than a standard love story.  Both that and the interwoven tale on the spaceship, with the truly insane concept of the ship's mechanics being supplemented by human organs makes this a unique science fiction tale.

The entire episode is a blast, full of action, heroism, and Moffat's typically brilliant dialogue.  Mickey and Rose take a backseat to the main story, but they have plenty of stuff to do and lots of great banter both with each other and with the Doctor.  The Doctor himself is just brilliant throughout; everything awesome about him shows up here.

The episode's sense of fun and adventure ultimately serves, though, to make its ending far, far more devastating.  This romance is a tragedy, delivered in a masterful finale that's heartbreaking not only on a first watch, but holds up its incredible power even on several viewings.  It's played so carefully, so beautifully...  Murray Gold's lyrical, understated music and Tennant's perfectly underplayed performance make it truly shattering.

That final note of tragedy in a story filled in every frame and sound with adventure, horror, heroism, and humor makes this an extraordinary piece of drama.  Fully emotional in every chord, both happy and sad, engaging on every level that matters.

RATING:

* * * *

SIDENOTES:

• This episode is gorgeous.  The new series has most tended to look very attractive and often quite stylish, but this is amongst the best-looking Television I've ever seen.
  
• The pairing of the Doctor, Rose, and Mickey is terrific, and it's really too bad they don't keep it as a threesome for longer.
  
• There's lots of funny moments in this story, but my favorite is probably the Doctor exclaiming that anything could be on the spaceship, and then seeing this, which I think pretty much sums up in a single image why this show is so awesome:

•  Although the exchange about the horse between the Doctor and Mickey is pretty brilliant, too:
  
  "What's a horse doing on a spaceship?!"
  "Mickey, what's pre-Revolutionary France doing on a spaceship?  Get a little perspective."
  
  
• Also, this about Madame du Pompadour:
  
  Doctor: She's got plans of being his mistress.
  Rose: Oh, I get it.  Camilla.
  Doctor: ... In no time flat, she gets herself established as his official mistress, her own rooms at the palace, even her own title - Madame du Pompadour.
  Rose: Queen must have loved her.
  Doctor: Oh, she did.  They got on very well.
  Mickey: King's wife and the king's girlfriend?
  Doctor: France.  Different planet.
  
• I'm just going to stop now before I quote the whole script.

Tooth and Claw

[2006, Season 28/Series 2, Episode 3]

So, here’s the thing about Rose Tyler: she’s terrific.  Really, she is.  She’s brave and funny and loyal to the Doctor.  She’s a genuinely complex character, utterly credible and perfect for grounding a crazy show like Doctor Who.  Above all, she is perfect for her time: she represents the Millenials (or generation Y, if you prefer that) in the way Vikki represented the youth culture of the ‘60s and Ace captured Gen X teens.  Rose is delaying her entry into adulthood, one of the most defining traits of our generation.  She still lives with her mom, doesn't have a degree nor has any urgency in getting one.  She's just wandering aimlessly through life, trying to find her place without really finding one.  She's never without her cell phone and is fairly tech-savvy.  Pop culture means far more to her than to older generations, and she has a pretty firm grasp on it.

Her personality suits the generation perfectly while also filling what we want in a companion.  She's adventurous without actually looking for adventure.  She's brave and loyal, so much so that she becomes a great companion despite being pretty empty-headed.  

Rose is truly a fully-developed character; her character flaws aren't things that are convenient to the plot or that fit in with the story.  They're just who she is.  She's self-absorbed and often oblivious to others, even though deep down she really does care very deeply.  There's a loving, compassionate soul beneath the self-centered shell.

And Billie Piper couldn't be more perfect.  She's totally engaging, and moves from drama to comedy to action smoothly and does them all superbly.  Her chemistry with Tennant is spectacular.  Also, she's really, really gorgeous.

And yet, Rose is missing one vital piece of the companion puzzle.  It's not that she's dumb.  I mean, she is, but that's not the problem; she makes up for that by being useful in so many other ways.  Heck, it's part of her charm.

The Doctor reacts to Rose's intellectual prowess.

No, it's her attitude toward the Doctor that's imperfect.  She's so totally head-over-heels and so in awe of what she sees as perfection in physical form that she never tears him down when he needs it.  The Doctor is an egotistical being with a serious dark streak who really, really needs to be cut down to size every now and then.  He's also an alien, and can seem indifferent and cold because he's focused on something more important.  

There's nothing wrong with the Doctor being smug or dark; that's who he is.  But the companions need to get him for it.  Barbara and, to a lesser extent, Ian did this; Liz, Sarah, Leela, Tegan, Peri, and Ace had no problem whatsoever ripping him a new one when he needed it.  Even Jo Grant, for all her perky submissiveness, still teased him and got on to him when he really did go to far.  And then there's Romana, who could be every bit as smug, but they tore each other down for being too full of themselves.  There was a mutual cutting down.

But when the Doctor gets smug or indifferent around Rose, she just matches his smug indifference with every ounce she can offer.  And then sometimes she just tops him.  Here, in Tooth and Claw, she gets obsessed with making Queen Victoria say she is not amused.  Kinda funny at first, but then she starts doing it even when everyone's life is in danger, and then when people are being murdered and eaten by a werewolf, and it comes off as near-psychotic.  And it's not because she's seeing something bigger or more important; she's just self-absorbed and wants to pull off her own private joke more than think about everyone around her.   People are actually dying, horribly, and she can't think of anything but joking around.  Which, of course, just makes the Doctor worse.

Seriously, somebody died, like, 30 seconds ago.

So, yes, it's fun to watch them together, but she actually tends to make the Doctor's flaws worse when he really loses it.  It's not that a little levity in a dangerous situation is bad, but with the Doctor around, Rose doing it is way too much.  Even he knows to dial it back; she doesn't.

Yes, let's spend this moment of danger making googly-eyes at the alien.

And at the end, when Queen Victoria rightfully tears them to pieces and makes them enemies of the empire, they just go off and laugh about it without ever realizing that there might actually, you know, be a reason Victoria's gratefulness pretty much only extended to letting them back into the blue box with their lives.

And ultimately, this makes her relationship with the Doctor fairly uninteresting, because there's never any sort of tension between them.  It's fun to watch them together, and they're clearly having a blast, but it just isn't interesting below the surface.  I love the Doctor, love Rose, enjoy watching them together.  I love getting the screenshots of Rose for these reviews.  Great character, pitch-perfect performances, excellent companion in almost every way.

But she isn't the greatest, and there's why.

Oh, right, there was an episode I was supposed to be reviewing.  So… Tooth and Claw.  Yeah.  Um…  It’s… pretty good.  Nothing really memorable or special, but it’s got lots of action and humor, a bit of horror, some thoughtful details, David Tennant being awesome all over the place with his Doctorlyness, and typically slick Euros Lyn direction.  There's some good character work in the supporting cast; the two big death scenes are genuinely affecting.  The werewolf is very CGI, but it's impressive given the budgets they work on here, and works very well for the story.  The actual defeat of the werewolf is quite beautiful.  Not a great episode, but fun stuff.

RATING:

* * *

SIDENOTES:

• Okay, what the hell is up with the monks doing the wire-fu at the beginning?  Where did a bunch of earth monks learn to do all those impossible stunts and jumps?  Look, it's Doctor Who.  I can take a lot.  The most dangerous beings in the Universe are garbage cans with plungers for arms?  Sure.  Totally logical beings with no emotions driven by revenge?  Why not?  A race around the Solar System with 17th century sailing ships?  Absolutely.  But earthling monks doing wire-fu?  That seriously stretches credibility in my book.

Rebirth (2005 Children In Need Special)

(I suppose that's as good a name as any.)


So, the Doctor is standing in front of Rose, still recovering from being more or less the Goddess of Time and just about dying from it, and he starts talking about death and how he's going to change.  Then he sort of explodes, and standing in front of her is now a different man, much, much thinner.

And I mean way thinner.  Christopher Eccleston's pretty trim, but my word, David Tennant is like one of those little lead sticks you put in mechanical pencils.  No human being should be that thin.

This is an awesome little five-minute short about those first moments after the Doctor's regeneration.  Rose, understandably and believably, doesn't accept Ten for what he says he is for quite some time.  When she finally does, it shakes her pretty deeply.  It's a very affecting and believable reaction, and makes the regeneration all the more effective. 

Tennant is hilarious.  I especially love his false-impressed reaction to Rose saying she's met the Slitheen.  But even here, you can see more.  Tennant is an extraordinary actor, and he uses every bit of his range to be the most Doctorly Doctor in ages, maybe ever.  There's not just the humor: there's compassion, there's presence, there's even a brief bit of intensity to match Eccleston.  It's a dazzling preview of what's to come.

There's a lot packed into five minutes, and it's just a delight.  See this one.

RATING:

* * * ½

The Unquiet Dead

[2005 - Season 27/Series 1 - Episode 3]

The Unquiet Dead starts a tradition the new series has done many, many times: dump us into a historical period as often as possible, but always give it a sci-fi twist.  I'd really like to see more otherworldly settings or even some straight-up historicals, but if all the semi-historicals were this good, I doubt I'd complain.  The period detail and production are sweeping, with enrapturing sets, costumes, and atmosphere.  Mark Gatiss' story is good -- complex, thoughtful, and surprising.  It packs a lot into the 45 minute timeframe, and is a real joy to watch.  The characters are intriguing and have some depth, and are perfectly played by the actors.

Having gone to the far future, the Doctor takes Rose to her past -- 1860s Cardiff, to be precise.  They soon stumble across a series of strange events -- dead bodies coming to life, apparent ghosts, and a clairvoyant young woman working for the very funeral parlour where all this mysteriousness is coming from... and while they're at it, they run into Charles Dickens himself, who soon finds himself involved in all sorts of "phatasmagoria" that he would never have believed.

It’s a dark, scary, compelling story, but unfortunately, it’s been softened and lightened too much.  RTD apparently didn't want the ghost story to be scary, and had Gatiss scale it back.  Gabriel Sneed is set up as a great Dickensian villain in the grand tradition of Sykes and Miss Havisham, what with his threatening Gwenyth and chloroforming Rose and dumping her in a room with zombies and such... and then nothing comes of it.  He’s just weirdly threatening but apparently not evil, I guess, which isn’t terribly interesting.  

Though I can't fault the casting for a second.

 Dickens’ angst and depression should be deep and powerful, but it doesn't really seem like more than someone on a bad day, just your average funk.  The ending should be much more moving.  Simon Callow is magnificent as Dickens; it's too bad his material isn't quite as good as he is.

Speaking of which, the climax almost End of the World for fizzling out after great buildup.  The ghosts look spectacular, their story is good, the hints about the Time War are fascinating, and the intensity goes sky-high... and what does the Doctor, our great hero do?  Well, nothing.  The Time Lord does nothing to stop what happens.  Someone else figures things out, there's a sacrifice (which, to be fair, is far, far more affecting than the previous episodes', since it actually seems to come out of the story and character), the Doctor does a little monologuing, and that's it.  It's not near as unsatisfying as End of the World, but the Doctor is starting to seem like an incidental character in his own show.


I don't want to tear into this episode too much.  It really is a good, solid episode, well written, well directed, extremely well acted.  It just could have been a great episode, and the things that make it miss greatness are so frustrating.  But it does a great job at balancing the historical, character, and sci-fi elements, and it fits them all into 45 minutes very effectively.  It's good stuff.

RATING:

* * * 


SIDENOTES:

• Okay, Billie Piper is a gorgeous woman, but man, her widest smiles show just a few too many teeth.  I mean, it's not an inhuman amount of teeth like Tom Baker, but still...

• Murray Gold's scores are improving through this series.  I guess I might as well put my feelings about his music down now: with the exception of some clumsy early episodes, I generally like his stuff.  Except for his obnoxious comedy music (and to be fair, I just generally find comedy music obnoxious in general), it's good music, and occasionally spectacular music.  He fills the soundscape with drama and excitement, and comes up with wonderful themes and ideas.  The only problem is that sometimes he scores scenes that would be far more effective without music.  But, to be honest, that's more the fault of the director or producer than him; they should know when to underplay things, and it's their job to get rid of unnecessary music.
  
• The visual effects guys have definitely seen Raiders of the Lost Ark.  Seriously, the ghosts move exactly like the angels at the end of Raiders.

 

         That's not a complaint, mind you.  Just a note.

•  One thing that mostly disappeared after Romana left was the fun costuming for the companions.  This show corrects that oversight already: they've already got Rose in an awesome period dress.