The Doctor Dances

Dear Gary—

“Go to your room.”

If only all impending doom was so easily dispensed with. But the Doctor is on fire, as is The Doctor Dances. Combined with the previous episode, this two part story is a list topper, and again with the Doctor and Nancy leading the way.

However, let me get the inevitable out of the way. The Doctor ‘dances.’ For some misguided reason we have to deal with the question of the Doctor and whether or not he ‘dances.’ For starters, any romantic relationship the Doctor would have with a human companion would by necessity be a love-em-and-leave-em type of affair. (The show will later deal with this heart-breaking reality in School Reunion, but it then immediately reverts back to the high school romance mentality of the Rose relationship arc.)

But OK, the show has committed to the exploration of this question. That in turn begs the question, why Rose? Of all his many female companions throughout his long life, why Rose? Rose has come along at the most vulnerable moment for the Doctor.  The death of all his family and friends is one thing, the destruction of his race and planet another. For a Time Lord of 900 some odd years with all of time and space open before him, to have his entire history wiped out in a moment is catastrophic.

Rose enters the picture and is an immediate distraction from his darkest thoughts, and she takes full advantage.” I know how sad you are,” she had callously taunted him back in Father’s Day. She is playing him. She knows where her power lies. She doesn’t offer comfort or understanding or sympathy. She offers ‘dancing.’ Rose is the equivalent of a Time Lord one night stand.

OK, Gary, I’ve got that out of my system.

Now let’s deal with the deeper, more emotionally charged story of The Doctor Dances.

Nancy has just been terrorized by the gas-masked child monster; the last second “Go to your room” Hail Mary by the Doctor has saved her (“I’m really glad that worked”). Nancy stands alone at the window as she watches the dejected boy walk away through the deserted streets. With a sorrowful “Jamie” she slowly sinks to the floor in tears.

Nancy puts ‘dancing’ in its proper perspective.

One can only imagine how the poor and orphaned 15/16 year old Nancy became a single mother in pre-war London. It’s not important. What speaks volumes is the selfless and quiet dignity with which she faces the dismal reality of life.

“Mad, you are,” Nancy tells Rose who has just revealed she is from the future. As usual, Rose skims the surface of things and talks about the wonders of time machines. “It’s not that,” Nancy responds. “All right, you’ve got a time travel machine. I believe you. Believe anything, me.” And then, with the air raid exploding above their heads she concludes, “But what future?” Nancy deals in reality; Rose dwells in fantasy. With the Union Jack emblazoned across her chest and a sunny smile on her heavily made-up face Rose gives a wink and a nod to divulge the grand and glorious secret that England will persevere. The two women just do not belong in the same realm.

It is the same problem with part one of this story and what keeps either from being great TV.

But you know, Gary, I almost don’t mind. Because the elements that drag The Empty Child and The Doctor Dances down are also the elements that make both more accessible to the general viewing audience.

Take the Fantastic Three moment when the Doctor, Jack, and Rose stride towards the bomb site. It is pure cheese, but it gets the heart pumping.

And then there is the humor. For a somber and horrific premise there is a liberal amount of humor thrown into this episode. Some of it works; some of it is overkill; and some of it detracts from the quality. But most all of it is entertaining.

OK, let’s talk bananas. “I like bananas. Bananas are good.” The bananas work, then they become overkill, then they distract from the tension. The trifecta.  Through it all, though, they never fail to amuse. “Don’t drop the banana!”

Same with the sonic. “Who looks at a screwdriver and thinks, ooo, this could be a little more sonic?” Please don’t drop the sonic.

Of course there is also the Doctor ‘dances’ thing which really drags this down to the common level, but again it provides some very entertaining moments. “Rose, I’m trying to resonate concrete,” the Doctor says in a brilliant moment of the Doctor trying to put things back into perspective while Rose is more interested in the Doctor’s moves.

“The world doesn’t end because the Doctor dances,” she says in her flippant way. However the Doctor turns over her offered hands to examine their impossibly perfect condition after having been hanging onto a rope for dear life hundreds of feet up in the London sky. The Doctor remains on track even while Rose waltzes her way through the episode.

Captain Jack would gladly join Rose on the dance floor. Or the Doctor. Or Algy. “He’s just a bit more flexible when it comes to dancing.” (I can’t imagine why Rose is shocked to hear the news that in the future the human race ‘dances’ its way through the galaxy, given her own rather foot loose and fancy free tendencies.) However Jack has the appropriate sense of time and place. When confronted with his own culpability his expressions of disbelief are tinged with regret and contrition. The Doctor recognizes this. Rose is oblivious as usual, but the Doctor knows the responsibility Jack has accepted, and he has faith in Jack’s character. “Volcano day.”

I’m afraid I digressed again from the more serious aspects, Gary, but isn’t that just what the script itself does?

Nancy’s role as surrogate mother to the orphans of London is touching, her self-possession as she faces down Mr. Lloyd is inspiring, and her determination as she enters the bomb site is compelling. This is a young woman of great courage and character and it is evident in every fleeting moment of screen time she is afforded. When she is handcuffed to a table in a room with a young man who is obviously infected, therefore, the tension is heightened. Nancy’s composure is impressive as she pleas desperately but never hysterically. When the soldier inevitably turns, she remains true to her nature, soothing the empty child within with a simple lullaby.

That, of course, is the answer. The answer to the child’s question, “Are you my mummy?”

The army advances, the army of gas-masked zombies controlled by the empty child.

“Not the child,” Nancy corrects. “Jamie.”

Simple; true; natural.

The army is advancing, the bomb is imminent, Volcano Day is upon them. Desperation registers on Jack and Rose. Jack disappears and Rose is at a loss. The Doctor and Nancy remain the quiet eye of this storm.

And finally the answer. “I am your mummy.”

The Doctor shushes Rose and her silly blather of questions; he realizes the importance of this moment as Nancy hugs her son to her.

 “Give me a day like this. Give me this one,” he pleads, and then with exultation: “Everybody lives, Rose. Just this once, everybody lives!”

It is one of the most uplifting moments in Doctor Who, and one that is well deserved for this war scarred Doctor.

And now, at last, when it is appropriate, the Doctor can dance. It is a moment of celebration. Of course Rose is still using it as a ploy in her little game. After spending the whole time trying to get the Doctor to dance, now when he remembers his moves she slyly says, “Actually, Doctor, I thought Jack might like this dance.” But the Doctor counters with this magnificent laugh, “I’m sure he would, Rose. I’m absolutely certain. But who with?” Rose doesn’t like that one bit, being forced to recognize that she isn’t in fact the center of attention.

Well done, Doctor. Well done.

And well done Doctor Who. Combined with The Empty Child, The Doctor Dances is among the best.

Everybody lives, Gary. How beautiful that would be . . .