“I’m not injured; I’m crashing. I don’t need a doctor.”
I usually don’t write about the mini-episodes, but The Night
of the Doctor is not only brilliant it is almost essential viewing prior to The
Day of the Doctor.
Cass, a fighter pilot in the middle of the infamous Time War
utters those lines as cited above; but it could be the Doctor Who universe
speaking. The brief minutes of The Night of the Doctor manage to bridge deep
chasms and answer numerous questions within that universe, and it does so in
most elegant fashion.
The enigmatic Ninth Doctor emerges from the TARDIS in Rose
with deep angst, and only slowly do we get pieces of his dark history and the
tragedy of the Time Lords. At the end of The Name of the Doctor we are introduced
to the mysterious non-Doctor persona of the Doctor. In Night we get the
transitional tale explaining the creation of this inscrutable character as well
as finally getting closure on the Eight Doctor.
The linchpin making all of this work is Paul McGann as the
Eighth Doctor. Paul McGann is the best thing, possibly the only good thing,
about Doctor Who the TV Movie. It is wonderful to see more of him as the Doctor.
Even in these fleeting moments of screen time Paul McGann is the Doctor.
The story starts out in typical Doctor Who fashion with the
Doctor materializing in the midst of danger to save the day. Cass is crashing and
there is no hope. The Doctor arrives and leads her to safety; leads her to the
TARDIS. Except to Cass the TARDIS is not a symbol of hope and the Doctor is not
her savior.
“You’re a Time Lord,” she accuses as she turns from him in
contempt.
This is what the Time War has wrought.
Rather than leave without her, the Doctor crashes along with
Cass on the planet of Karn where the Sisterhood awaits. I always wondered if
the Sisterhood of Karn with their Elixir of Life would make a reappearance.
They once saved the Fourth Doctor (The Brain of Morbius), and now they again
stand ready with their potion to bring him back from the dead and to trigger
his regeneration.
The little we get of McGann shows glimmers of that Fourth
Doctor. “Four minutes?” he considers when he learns that is all of life he has
left. “That’s ages. What if I get bored, or need a television, couple of books?
Anyone for chess? Bring me knitting.” And then when he realizes where he is and
with whom: “You’re the Sisterhood of Karn, Keepers of the Flame of utter
boredom.” Yes, he comfortably inhabits the Doctor.
“It’s not my war; I
will have no part of it,” he tells Ohila as she urges him to put an end to the
Time War. “I help where I can. I will not fight,” he adds. Paul McGann’s
delivery of these simple lines expresses the overwhelming weariness that weighs
upon him. But standing before the dead body of the woman who refused his help
and with the words of Ohila ringing in his ears, the Doctor can no longer
ignore the screaming universe: “I’m not injured; I’m crashing. I don’t need a
doctor.”
“Make me a warrior now,” he says as he resigns himself to
the inevitable. Calling upon his companions of the past, he drinks the potion.
“Doctor no more.”
A very young looking John Hurt stares back in reflection and we're ready for the battle ahead.
So much is told in these few minutes, Gary. Paul McGann very
well could have rivaled Tom Baker in my heart given enough time and given the
right production team.
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