Before the Flood

Dear Gary—
This story is over before it starts. But don't tell the Doctor that; he wants to have fun so he throws a spanner into the works to keep it going.

“So there’s this man. He has a time machine. Up and down history he goes, zip, zip, zip, zip, zip, getting into scrapes.” The Doctor is telling a story—to us, the audience. I don’t like it. To me this is the show showing off. This is Doctor Who saying ‘Looky what I can do!’ The point of this opening segment is to set before us the Bootstrap Paradox (“Google it”) as the centerpiece of the episode. This is exactly the thing that I have against season arcs—it sacrifices the adventure on the altar of the almighty arc. In the case of Before the Flood, the narrative is shortchanged in deference to the “who really composed Beethoven’s Fifth” causal loop framework it just set forth in plain view. And by having the Doctor break the fourth wall in order to deliver the message it is by way of saying, ‘Ta da!’

It is a shame because the first half of the story set us up nicely; the second half lets us down. The tale is simply a flimsy excuse to get us to perform and admire the Doctor Who mental gymnastics game. It is as hollow as the sham Soviet town the TARDIS materializes in. I can’t even believe that this military base designed as a fake village for training purposes is real—it is simply a TV set ready for our actors to play in. The tip-off is that there are absolutely no people here—not even a stray guard or two. It is completely abandoned for no apparent reason. So devoid of life that a huge alien spacecraft can land there and no one is around to notice; the UFO must not have even registered as a blip on any radar screen in this supposedly militarized zone.

Of course there is always the possibility that our baddie of the hour, the Fisher King, has killed everyone within miles of the place. But that isn’t even hinted at. In fact, nothing of import is related in connection with the Fisher King. Oh, he’s big and impressive and scary looking all right. But that is his only raison d’etre. Beyond that he could be one of the cardboard Russians littering the streets of the town. We have no clue what his motivation is. I guess he wants to “drain the oceans and put the humans in chains” just for the fun of it. For all we know that threat could be nothing more than hot air. We have no demonstration of his powers other than somehow killing O’Donnell (off camera), presumably by brute strength, and making some magic writing appear on his capsule wall that will turn dead humans into transmitters. If the military is in any way active around that town the Doctor could easily enlist their aid in defeating the big guy.

I’m not even sure how the Fisher King knows where he is. He is presumed dead and wrapped up like a mummy awaiting burial when we first meet him, and then quite suddenly he appears alive and well and fully informed. He awakens on a strange planet but knows exactly where it is; enough so that he can write the coordinates on the wall; even if those coordinates seem awfully vague; and I wonder if anyone hearing them will actually understand them and know where to go or even why they should go. In addition, the Fisher King seems to know everything about the Doctor and Time Lords; yet he is fooled by a simple lie; and in the end he is destroyed by a deluge. (Makes you wonder, Gary, how the Arcateenians killed him, or thought they killed him.)

The Fisher King is an Etch A Sketch version of a monster.

Equally sketchy is Prentis. He should be a fascinating character, but we never get to know him. The script treats him as contemptuously as the Doctor treats him. He is a Tivolian funeral director come to bury the fallen Fisher King “on a barren, savage outpost.” Why did he choose Earth (hardly barren)? Why is he wandering about the town with no particular direction? Why does he have no helpers to dig the grave, act as pall bearers, etc? His only purpose (other than to be ghostly) is for exposition. He doesn’t even need much prodding. Copious explanations roll off his tongue of their own accord. Mention his home planet and he delivers a concise encyclopedia entry found under T for Tivoli. Ask him one question (“What are you doing here?”) and he rattles off a Reader’s Digest history of conquest and subjugation. Once his information has been imparted his character is dispensed with; thrown aside much like the Doctor tosses away his card. (“May the remorse be with you.”)

It is the Doctor who comes off the worst in this chicken or egg riddle, though. There is the obvious callousness that the script points out for us in the casual way he treats O’Donnell’s death, using it to test his theory. This insensitivity is reinforced by Clara when Cass questions the Doctor’s influence over Clara in her decision to send Lunn out on a dangerous mission; Clara explains to Cass of the Doctor, “He taught me to do what has to be done.” But this is what Doctor Who wants you to take away; the Doctor’s culpability goes deeper than that.

The Doctor’s brilliant plan is to send a hologram ghost Doctor ahead in time to the underwater base to deliver a cryptic message to Clara to relay back to the real Doctor to essentially light a fire under him to get going already and save the day. Huh? Since when does the Doctor need a kick in the pants to solve a basically straight forward alien threat? Additionally, he programs the Holo Doctor to pass on a bit of information (that the stasis chamber is going to open that night) to his real self in order to give him the bright idea of getting inside that chamber so that he can pop up at the right time in the underwater base. Can't his real self think up this plan all by himself without the paradox? Surely he can set the timer going on the thing to open, and that is probably exactly what he does do, so why didn’t he think of the plan himself? Oh yeah, he did think of it himself, but only after he prodded himself from the past. Or was it the future? Or was it Beethoven? And if he can set the timer, why not set it for earlier? Why the need for Holo Doctor at all? Just have the chamber open an hour or two earlier, jump out and that's that.

However, here is my real question. Why the need for coded messages? Why not simply have Holo Doctor say in plain English, or Gallifreyan, or whatever language he wants, exactly what is happening and what he should do? The Doctor’s need to keep things fun and interesting only endangers everyone around him.

This need for excitement is probably what compels him to program his Holo Doctor to let the ghosts on the base out of their trap. (And how can a hologram do that exactly?) He figures Clara, Cass, and Lunn are getting bored just sitting around waiting for something to happen. Or maybe he wants to get Clara’s mind off of his seemingly inevitable death so she’ll stop nagging him about it.

If the Doctor is going to mess about with the laws of time and create this paradox in order to save Clara, why not go whole hog and rewrite history altogether to save everybody? He talks a good game about certain laws that can’t be tampered with, but he breaks any and all when it suits him. In this particular case he goes the paradox route rather than the history re-writing, and again I wonder why. Rather than using the missing power cell to blow up the dam to flood the town and kill the Fisher King, couldn’t he use it to blow up the Fisher King and the ship with the writing on it to avert all the deaths? Or erase the writing? But no, no, no; he is “still slavishly protecting Time.” And he can’t resist the thrill of “reverse engineering the narrative.”

That is the real crime against the Doctor. He has engineered the events. Clara isn’t in any danger while the ghosts are trapped; she doesn’t need saving. But the Doctor can’t stand for that so he lets the ghosts out so that he can come in and save the day. How does he save the day? By trapping the ghosts. He knew when he went back to the beginning that the ghosts were safely locked away in the Faraday cage. All he had to do was find out how the ghosts were created and stop any more from generating. Once he found the Fisher King all the Doctor had to do was immobilize him and then inform UNIT to collect the ghosts at that 2119 base.

Despite the flaws, there are several exciting moments as well as some interesting concepts and humorous bits. Cass is great as she argues with Clara over Lunn’s dangerous mission, and the scene of Cass sensing the vibrations of the axe as it is dragged along by the stalking ghost is tense and worthy of any good horror story. Quite a bit of it falls flat, however. The Doctor’s “morning breath” comment for instance, or the repeated emphasis on how dense the Doctor is when it comes to understanding Bennett’s mourning of O’Donnell. The wrap up of the Cass/Lunn romance is sweet but forced. Did anyone not know how these two felt about each other, least of all Cass and Lunn?

And I really want to know why the TARDIS is so obstinate throughout the story. It brings the Doctor and Clara to that base to begin with and then decides it doesn’t like it there and won’t return once the Doctor leaves. Or perhaps the Doctor simply makes up that excuse to keep his storyline intact.

When all is said and done the Doctor tells Clara, “The Fisher King had been dead for a hundred and fifty years before we even got here.” The Fisher King, that Etch A Sketch monster, was never the threat. It was the ghostly transmitters that were the problem and they were safely locked away. “But once I went back,” the Doctor continues in his explanation to Clara, “I became part of events.” He then goes on to lay the “who composed Beethoven’s Fifth” punch line on her and obscures the fact that his becoming part of events is exactly what put them all in danger; and deliberately so. He wrote this ghost story; or was it Holo Doctor? Who wrote Before the Flood? And isn’t he a clever man, Gary?

Under the Lake

Dear Gary—

“So, we are fighting an unknown homicidal force that has taken the form of your commanding officer and a cowardly alien, underwater, in a nuclear reactor.” That is a perfect and succinct summation of Under the Lake. The result is a tense, base-under-siege tale as well as an eerie ghost story and an intriguing mystery, succeeding admirably at each even while riddled with defects.

All three elements come into play immediately as the scene opens in the 2119 underwater mining facility with the crew examining a baffling craft discovered on the lakebed. A ghostly figure in Victorian dress appears and the engines of the unknown ship ignite spewing flames which kill the captain, who next shows up as vaporous companion to our Victorian garbed friend. It is a compelling start despite some of the weaker elements already established; those being the characterizations. The crew is generally stock stuff, although ably portrayed.

The most stereotypical of the assemblage is Pritchard.  No effort is made to depict him as a human being. He is Corporate Mouthpiece, nothing more. Every word out of his mouth and every action he takes is in service to this function. When the Doctor rudely dismisses him therefore (“Why is this man still talking to me?”) it’s OK because Pritchard has no thoughts or feelings; he’s simply a cardboard cutout. The only remarkable thing about this man is that he does not survive long enough to undermine the actions of the others as is usually the fate of such characters. Rather, he is quickly dispatched to become a much more interesting ghost.

Unfortunately the most charismatic of the group, Captain Moran, is the first to be turned into a spectral being. The acting commander Cass and her interpreter Lunn are the standouts of those who remain, although their secret desire for one another is telegraphed throughout and is mildly annoying because it is so obvious and yet very deliberately unacknowledged. Rounding out the cast is Bennett the nerdy scientist and O’Donnell the spunky female technician. Their secret desires are revealed more subtly, yet the focus on the one gesture (the punch on the arm) is just as intentional and therefore intrusive.

They serve their purpose, however, these clichéd characters, and the presence of the ghosts and the strange vessel with its unearthly markings keeps things exciting.

Enter the Doctor and Clara. The Doctor and Clara always liven things up, however there are certain aspects of their relationship in this story that are forced and fall flat. Clara is much too gung-ho for adventure and the Doctor uncharacteristically cautious. His “duty of care” speech is contrived and serves to remind me of how bad both the Doctor and Clara are at this particular responsibility. The note cards shtick is another example of the script trying too hard to make a point. The Doctor has rotten people skills and Clara is there to guide him. This routine only reinforces the fact that Clara is a lousy teacher and belittles the Doctor’s intelligence.

On the other hand, the Doctor’s varying reactions to the phantoms are more apropos. His initial skepticism is to be expected and his speculations draw us further in to the mystery. His delight when he determines that they are actually ghosts is infectious. Once he has accepted them for what they are he plans accordingly as he tries to understand them, their capabilities, and their motivations, all of which propels the plot.

The ghosts themselves are another plus, but again despite their weakness. They are fantastically realized and provide abundant eeriness and scare factor. However I can’t understand why the crew doesn’t fight back. After it has been determined that the ghosts cannot harm them unless armed, why not grab the weapons away from them instead of simply cowering and running? I can understand to some extent being too frightened in the moment to think straight; however they have ample time to stand around and discuss strategy when the ghosts aren’t around.

Speaking of strategy—what was the Doctor thinking? It seems the haunted house mentality has taken hold of him. Sending three people out to draw the ghosts into a trap doesn’t make sense. Only one person is needed for the job. Using three only serves to provide the opportunity for something to go wrong, exactly as it does. The ghosts split up. “I’m beginning to think we should have let the ghosts in on the plan.” No, Clara, you should have devised a better plan. It’s an adrenaline rushing chase, though, and that’s a good enough excuse. I’ll even excuse the idiocy of both Clara and Lunn as each stands squarely in the middle of the doorway in full view before the door slams shut. Only then do they duck to the side out of sight. In Lunn’s case he’s too late, but luckily Cass had the foresight all along to keep Lunn out of the alien spacecraft so he doesn’t have the code words embedded in his brain and the ghosts let him go; and how convenient too, that this is the means by which the Doctor figures out that it is the markings in the ship that are the key.

The markings in the ship; the code words—this is both ingenious and head scratching. It is expertly done as one by one characters gaze at the etchings and we see those strange symbols reflected in their eyes. The ghosts silently chanting the translation is haunting and the tying in of Cass’s ability to lip read is clever. The words themselves—the dark, the sword, the forsaken, the temple—are intriguing and the Doctor’s conclusion that these are coordinates leading to the church within the flooded and abandoned town is original. However I can’t get over the vagueness of it all. OK, I can accept the space, Earth (as the fourth component of Orion’s Belt), and church suppositions, but how does “forsaken” lead one to that specific flooded and abandoned town? Surely there are thousands of abandoned towns with churches on the planet.

There are a few more minor issues I have with this episode. How is it that the ghosts are able to manipulate the system during the day cycle when supposedly they can only come out at night? Why did the TARDIS materialize on this base to begin with when it doesn’t like being there? Finally I have to question the efficiency of this ghost transmitter idea. With technology like that, wouldn’t you think the alien intelligence that created these ghosts would have had the means to transmit the coordinates in a more direct fashion? But oh well, as we say in Nelma.

As in any good Doctor Who, the action takes over, sweeping any questions aside. The group races against the clock to reach the TARDIS before they get trapped; only half of them make it. The Doctor, O’Donnell and Bennett board the TARDIS to go back in time to before the flood while Clara, Cass, and Lunn remain behind. “Sit tight,” the Doctor tells them. “I’ll come back for you.” Clara trusts the Doctor one hundred percent. “This is how we roll,” Clara states confidently. “He’s going to go away, come back, and we’ll have to listen to how he did it.” However while she says this a new ghost appears and with growing dread the trapped trio realizes—it is the Doctor.

Replete with flaws, Under the Lake nevertheless transcends them all to deliver one doozy of a tale, topped with one whiz-bang cliffhanger. In short, Gary, Under the Lake is some darn good Doctor Who.

The Witch's Familiar

Dear Gary—

The Witches Familiar is one of the most richly entertaining episodes of the New Who era. It doesn’t rely on the spectacle or production or epic storytelling for its wow factor; rather its strength lies in its acting, with a nod towards directing.

I’ll start with the Missy and Clara show.

“Can I have a stick too?”

The super confident Clara is continually kept off balance by the indomitable Missy. The episode starts with Clara literally swept off her feet, hanging helplessly upside down while Missy spins her fascinating tale of the Doctor. Missy is in complete control and there is nothing Clara can do about it. This sets up a dynamic that makes Clara more approachable as a character. Her spunk and spirit shines as she continually picks herself up off the mat to battle on. When unchecked as she so often is with the Doctor, or when indulged by UNIT, Clara has a tendency to take on an air of untouchable conceit that isn’t always warranted. Clara needs the counterbalance of Missy to keep her grounded, even when left dangling in the air.

“Make your own stick.”

Meanwhile Missy revels in both challenging and torturing Clara. Missy always has the upper hand, yet Clara isn’t about to roll over for her. Clara keeps Missy sharp. Together they make a classic team.

What they are not is necessary—at least not for rescuing the Doctor, even though they deem themselves as such. They provide a delightful distraction and give context to the Doctor’s ultimate solution, but the “we do” proclamation as to what happens when the Doctor assumes he is going to die is nothing more than hot air. This calls the whole confession dial and last party and the bulk of the previous episode into question, but since it all results in some engaging television I’ll let it pass.

Clara’s and Missy’s foray into the Dalek sewers is amusing and informative. We learn that Daleks never die (that’s a big reveal and a bit of a head scratcher and has multiple implications for the Doctor Who historical record, but it comes in mighty handy for this particular story) but rather exist in some sort of gelatinous state lurking around underground just itching for the chance to swell up in an angry mob of seething blob to engulf a vulnerable Dalek in its casing. We also learn that Daleks channel emotion through their weapons system, using their constant “Exterminate!” rant as a means to reload. This new data is divulged during some extremely enjoyable comedy routines by our dynamic duo.

We also get an education in Dalek translation. ‘I love you’ equates to ‘exterminate’ in Dalek speak, as does ‘you are different from me.’ One’s name comes out as ‘Dalek’ and apparently Daleks cannot articulate contractions. Missy has loads of fun as she induces Clara Dalek to demonstrate this for us.

Everything that Clara and Missy uncover in the sewers serves as vital components to the dramatic conclusion, all packaged neatly for us in their comical escapade. Interspersed with this fun sideshow is the compelling dialogue between the Doctor and Davros that forms the heart of the narrative. Both actors are superb as these two ancient enemies face off, and the heartfelt exchange holds a little bit of everything for us.

It starts with a bang—the Doctor in Davros’ chair. “Admit it. You’ve all had this exact nightmare.” What’s not to love about that? It doesn’t last long, just long enough for the fun factor to kick in; although I am a bit disappointed with the Doctor’s illogical conclusion that Clara’s extermination was a hoax. That the Doctor would hold out hope that Clara is alive is believable, but that the Daleks of all creatures would have played such a trick and spared Clara’s life is not. This smacks of desperation that is not characteristic of the Doctor (but unfortunately much too characteristic of New Who). Also disappointing is the Colony Sarff angle. By employing Colony Sarff Davros, creator of the Daleks, is admitting that he is helpless without the aid of an alien being; his Daleks are useless against the Doctor, yet Colony Sarff can effortlessly slither in and save the day.

No matter. What follows is classic as the war of words begins.

Their concepts of mercy and compassion shape the conversation. Not surprisingly, Davros considers mercy a defect and compassion a cancer whereas the Doctor “wouldn’t die of anything else.”  Davros plays upon this perceived weakness of the Doctor masterfully, and I am sucked in just as easily as the Doctor seems to be. Julian Bleach does the impossible of infusing this evil character with sympathy, vulnerability, and pathos. When Davros sighs plaintively, “I wish, just once, we had been on the same side,” I genuinely believe him, and his last wish to look upon the sunrise with his own eyes appears sincere.

Like two old friends chatting long into the night, their discourse at times takes on moments of levity.

Davros: “Then we have established one thing only.”

Doctor: “What?”

Davros: “You are not a good doctor.”

And it contains moments of revelation.

Doctor: “There’s no such thing as the Doctor. I’m just a bloke in a box telling stories.”

The Doctor sounds weary as he makes this confession; a far cry from previous incarnations that proudly and emphatically proclaim, ‘I’m the Doctor.’ The title is not a badge of honor for him; it is something to which he aspires: “Sometimes, on a good day, if I try very hard, I’m not some old Time Lord who ran away. I’m the Doctor.”

And like two old friends with past grudges and historical enmity, there are the moments of truth or consequences:

Davros: “Genocide in a moment. Such slaughter, not in self-defense; not as a simple act of war. Genocide as a choice. Are you ready, Doctor?”

And then the ultimate dare: “Are you ready to be a god?”

The one sour note for me is the hint of the hybrid. I hate when New Who tries to tamper with the mythos. But I’m not going to let myself get bogged down, Gary.

Then everything comes together, much too conveniently but so very entertainingly, and I therefore forgive it.

The Doctor has been playing along with Davros and outwits him in the end. He was never in doubt—the Doctor, as Missy pointed out at the start, has always assumed he would win. Again, this calls into question all of the preceding last day to live nonsense, but who cares?

Time Lord Regeneration Energy (really, the Doctor in New Who treats this great power very carelessly, but oh well . . .) has renewed Davros and his Daleks and, by the way, the angry Dalek globules lurking in the sewers. With super Dalek power the blob mob explodes throughout the planet engulfing the hapless whole Daleks. Luckily they bypass Clara Dalek and never think to go after Missy or the Doctor.

Michelle Gomez as Missy is in contrast to Julian Bleach as Davros. Whereas Julian Bleach portrays Davros with subtlety and with depth, Michelle Gomez runs with the over-the-top nature of Missy. Both succeed admirably; and while we can sympathize with Davros and almost believe there is a spark of goodness deep within his soul, we never doubt Missy’s depravity yet we love her for it, even as she spurs the Doctor on to kill the Clara Dalek.

This is where the mercy angle comes full circle and takes us back to that long ago hand mine field with the boy Davros; and this is where the show cops out and lets the Doctor off the hook. That opening dilemma from The Magician’s Apprentice that held such promise is compromised. That haunting question, “Doctor, what have you done” is answered with the lamest of all rejoinders.

“I’m going to save my friend the only way I can.”

The Doctor doesn’t save the young lad out of compassion or mercy; he doesn’t turn his back on the small boy in cold blood; neither does he spare Clara Dalek nor murder her; he never has to make those life or death decisions. He simply goes back in time to alter events so that Davros will instill mercy into his Daleks that will ultimately lead the Doctor to recognize Clara inside of the Dalek.

“I’m not sure that any of that matters: friends, enemies. So long as there’s mercy,” the Doctor says as he leads the boy Davros home; but he is merely hardwiring the codeword into the lad.

No Classic here. But what we have in The Magician’s Apprentice and The Witches Familiar, Gary, is some of the most entertaining Doctor Who of the new era.