The Idiot's Lantern

Dear Gary—

The Idiot’s Lantern is probably my least favorite of all of the David Tennant episodes. It took me a long time to figure out exactly what I dislike about it; what I have finally concluded to be my main objection is the very thing that the Doctor and Rose seem to take such pride in, and that is, “the domestic approach.”

To begin, the TARDIS has yet again landed on Earth. This is getting more wearisome than when the Third Doctor was exiled. Even when Doctor number ten breaks away to another planet it winds up being New Earth or parallel Earth. I can accept this if the story makes up for it; The Idiot’s Lantern does not.

Not only Earth, but yet again England, yet again London. The Doctor was even trying for someplace new—New York—but the TARDIS got it wrong. Again, I can accept this. 1950’s London could make a good backdrop for a story and the Doctor and Rose emerging in period dress and on a moped signals fun. However, when the Tenth Doctor and Rose have fun it usually is to the exclusion of and at the expense of others. The Idiot’s Lantern is no exception.

This leads to the heart of the domestic approach in this episode. The Connolly family. Eddie is clearly a bully. Anyone can see that. I do not deny it. However, that is no cause for the Doctor and Rose to barge into his home and immediately start humiliating him in front of his family. In doing so, they are little better than he is. But oh what fun they have doing it.

Domestic abuse is a serious issue and clearly the script has good intentions, but it fails miserably.

Eddie is not physically abusive, he is merely a blowhard. He doesn’t raise his hand; he raises his voice. But he doesn’t belittle or demean. If anything, I get the sense that he is scared; terrifying and bewildering things are happening and he is trying to keep his family safe and maintain some order in his life but things are spiraling out of control. In waltz the Doctor and Rose to challenge his authority and to belittle and demean him. I end up feeling sorry for Eddie.

About the worst that can be said of Eddie is that he expresses the opinion that a woman’s place is in the home; hardly a shocking sentiment for a man living in 1953. A gentle chiding or contradictory opinion would have sufficed; instead the Doctor and Rose put him thoroughly in his place.

Rita Connolly, in the meantime, does little to garner sympathy. She doesn’t appear to be afraid of her husband; neither is she understanding of him. She is simply there. She never tries to talk or reason with him.  All she can do is pester him with questions that no one can answer. It is horrifying, the faceless grandmother locked in the room upstairs, pounding on the floor. All Rita can do is pepper Eddie with accusations of: “Nothing’s the same anymore.” And “What happened to her?” And “I think she’s hungry.” Like Eddie could do anything about any of that.

Of course Eddie shows little understanding of his own. Finding one’s mother with her face gone, wondering how she can survive, how she can eat and breath, listening to her pounding her cane over and over on the floor above, frightened that men in black will break into the house and spirit her away—it would be little to ask of one’s husband for a shoulder to cry on. Instead he locks the mother away and pretends nothing has happened.

This seems a serious breakdown in marital communication rather than any case of domestic abuse and I don’t see that Rita is doing anything to alleviate the situation.

This is a fault in the script. Eddie is given a glimmer of depth; Rita is a cardboard cutout.

Tommy is the only saving grace of this family unit. Tommy has no good examples set before him. Not his father; not his mother; certainly not the Doctor or Rose. Yet Tommy has somehow emerged an intelligent and caring individual. Tommy finds the backbone to stand up to Eddie (perhaps it is Eddie’s taunt that Tommy should forget about college and work for a living— but in 1953 is it possible that Eddie just doesn’t have the means to send his son to college or the understanding of what college could do for his boy, and has Tommy ever bothered to discuss this with his dad?) and to expose him as the traitor who has been turning in all of the faceless ones, including his gran.

And this leads us to the monster of our story, the Wire. The Wire has been feeding off of the electrical activity of the human brain. The Wire has taken up residence in a television set at Magpie’s Electrical shop and is keeping Magpie in line by threatening him with mind meltdown. Of course Magpie could always just stay away from the TV to escape her threat, but then again TVs are his livelihood so there’s that. I’m not sure his dingy little shop is worth the destruction of millions of people, but Magpie’s motivation is the least of my complaints.

The Wire is an alien of unknown origin condemned by her own people for unknown crimes and converted into electrical form by unknown means. She is planning on feasting on the minds of millions as they watch the coronation of Queen Elizabeth and by some unknown process thereby recreating her corporeal form, whatever that may be.

All of this is beyond poor Detective Inspector Bishop and his men in black. All he can do is cart off the afflicted and lock them up out of sight, not much different than Eddie Connolly has done. It’s rather preposterous, really. All they care about are appearances? Where are your investigative journalists? Where are your outraged citizens? Where are your socially conscious crusaders? Where are your inquiring minds? Never mind your police force that should be doing their jobs and not just mopping up unsightly, faceless riffraff. Does no one think that this might be a threat to national security at such a time of historical importance? When it comes to that—where is your Torchwood?

The Doctor and Rose, apparently, are the only two who think to do any detecting. Thankfully the two go off following their separate leads. I say thankfully because when they are together they are insufferable. Apart they can shine. Rose heads for Magpie and the intelligence and common sense she displays make her tolerable. The Doctor meanwhile heads for Detective Inspector Bishop to get some answers and he regains his Doctor quality.

Except then Rose gets her brain sucked out leading to this bit of histrionics from the Doctor when he discovers her faceless body: “They took her face and just chucked her out and left her in the street. And as a result that makes things simple. Very, very simple. Do you know why?”  Bishop responds with the obligatory “No” before the Doctor puffs himself up to deliver: “Because now, Detective Inspector Bishop, there is no power on this Earth that can stop me!” Now? What—a couple dozen, a hundred, thousands, who knows how many people have had their brains sucked dry and that isn’t motivation enough? Rose and only Rose can spur the Doctor to such passionate determination? Really? Did we really need that Gary?

To me, what a faceless Rose makes simple is that all of the faceless victims are not actually in any danger because if Rose has suffered the same this can only mean that it is not irreversible.

This renders the ensuing race to the finish rather ho hum.

Tommy comes back into play, because the Doctor needs an assistant (excuse me, companion). There are some nice character moments between the two and touches of humor mixed in, but it all boils down to just a lot of running around and frantic paces.  In between we are treated to scenes of the complacent Rita who has just slammed the door in the face of her husband of many years and contentedly sits down amongst her family and friends to watch the coronation and by the way almost get her face sucked off.

The Doctor prevails, the faceless ones regain their faces, life resumes as normal, and there are parties in the street. The Wire is captured on Betamax to be taped over at some future date. All is well with the world.

It all ends with an uncharacteristically sweet moment. Uncharacteristic only because it is at odds with all that went before.

“Good riddance,” Tommy says as he watches his beaten down father walk off with one small suitcase in hand as the only representation of a lifetime.  And then this:

Doctor: “Is that it then, Tommy? New monarch, new age, new world. No room for a man like Eddie Connolly.”

Tommy: “That’s right; he deserves it.”

Rose: “Tommy, go after him.”

Tommy: “What for?”

Rose: “He’s your dad.”

Tommy: “He’s an idiot.”

Rose: “Of course he is. Like I said, he’s your dad. But you’re clever. Clever enough to save the world so don’t stop there. Go on.”

First time watching this episode I was struck by this scene; I was moved and impressed. I hadn’t cared for the story without knowing why, but I liked that the Doctor and Rose sent Tommy after his dad. Now I realize that it is this ending, which I still am moved by, that shows up how hollow the preceding domestic storyline really is.

And now I say good riddance to The Idiot’s Lantern, Gary, as I send this off into the electrical impulses of the universe . . .