The Lodger

Dear Gary—

The Lodger is filler. Amusing filler, yes, but filler nonetheless. That is the problem with season long story arcs; inevitably you get stories like this. Perfectly fine stories. Stories that in any other season could stand on their own. But wedged into a season of story arc they are just place holders, biding time until the slam bang season finale. The Lodger is such a story.

They didn’t even really try with the villain of the piece. I’m not actually sure you can call it a villain; it’s just a crashed spaceship equipped with an emergency hologram in search of a new pilot to replace its dead crew. There is no explanation as to how or why it crashed, where it came from, or what is providing its power. The simpletons who are lured up are never noticed or missed. And the love-is-all-you-need solution is ludicrous. I’m still wondering at the notion that the Doctor as pilot would trigger an explosion to endanger the entire solar system but with Craig as pilot the ship implodes. It’s quite tidy and convenient. All Doctor Who aliens should be so self-cleaning.

The focus of the tale is on the Doctor as a fish out of water and an advice to the lovelorn purveyor, and as such it is a great showcase for Matt Smith. The Doctor has been stranded on Earth before (the Third Doctor for multiple seasons) and he has contemplated life on the slow path sans TARDIS before. In recent memory he has spent more time on Earth than he probably ever spent on Gallifrey. Yet this is the first we spend significant time with him trying to navigate day to day drudgery on his adopted planet, and Matt Smith shines in the moment.  This Eleventh Doctor is charming and awkward and completely alien as he fits right in to ordinary life in the most extraordinary manner. His description of himself as he greets Craig is perfect: “Less of a young professional; more of an ancient amateur; but frankly I’m an absolute dream.”

 Amy does a lot of pointless bouncing around the TARDIS, more to give the actress some face time than to add anything meaningful to the plot. The companion role is taken over by Craig for this episode and he settles in nicely; as does Sophie to a lesser degree.  It is unbelievably handy how the Craig and Sophie romance dovetails with the there’s-no-place-like-home solution to the monster on the second floor; almost as if it had been written that way. It’s a nice little story that is wrapped up in a most expedient package.

There really isn’t much more to say about it. The Doctor does reveal one or two new abilities that would have come in handy quite a few times before now, and one has to wonder why he held on to them for so long only to break them out in this relatively tame adventure.  For example the head-butt info dump probably would have gotten him out of a multitude of scrapes, and I’m sure that more than a few companions would have appreciated the use of the TARDIS blue tooth hot line.

Keeping it short and sweet, Gary, as I gear up for the big bang finish.

Vincent and the Doctor

Dear Gary—

Vincent and the Doctor is a lovely little story that fits in expertly with the Crack season. Divorced from the abysmal Crack, Vincent and the Doctor is a weird sci fi vignette in the life of Vincent Van Gogh with a rather pedestrian monster in the window. Taken in context, however, it beautifully and subtly depicts the true devastation of this Crack more than any slam bang finish ever could. Together with the last few minutes of Cold Blood, Vincent and the Doctor achieves the true potential of this Crack business without, I suspect, realizing it.

And the Crack doesn’t even make an appearance.

Rory is dead (long live Rory—and he will, but that’s another story). Rory is not only dead, he is erased from memory. The hole that remains is filled with unrequited sorrow.

What better way to honor the forgotten memory of Rory than with an angst-ridden Van Gogh?

As played by Tony Curran, Vincent Van Gogh is tragically sympathetic and his world of emotions and color is beautifully portrayed. It is the perfect world to disguise the pain that Amy doesn’t quite recognize.

Vincent on sunflowers: “I find them complex. Always somewhere between living and dying; half human as they turn to the sun; a little disgusting; but, you know, they are a challenge.”

A fitting memorial for Rory; an apt description of the Crack (if it lived up to its billing).

Bookended by the incomparable Bill Nighy.

If only there wasn’t this pesky Krafayis plot to contend with.

It is your routine, run-of-the-mill, alien trapped on Earth, Doctor tries to help, alien is killed plot. Not much more to say about it, except that the can-only be-seen-by-the-differently-sighted-Vincent angle is a nice touch but not adequately explored.

Vincent: “Well, look around. Art. It seems to me there’s so much more to the world than the average eye is allowed to see. I believe, if you look hard, there are more wonders in this universe than you could ever have dreamed of.”

The scene of Vincent and Amy and the Doctor lying in a circle holding hands and looking up at the sky as Starry Night comes to life is a beautiful realization of this statement. Too bad that the bulk of the episode cops out with the mundane Doctor Who alien representing the wonders of the universe, but I guess that is what Doctor Who is all about. Only William Hartnell’s Doctor was brave enough to see the wonders in life as we know it.

Overall, however, Vincent and the Doctor is an unexpected vase of sunflowers in this dreary Crack of a season; it is full of living color and hidden sorrow. “I hear the song of your sadness,” Vincent tells Amy. Vincent and the Doctor is a moving love song of sadness.

“My experience is that there is, you know, surprisingly, always hope.” This goes in the Doctor’s pile of good things, Gary, as I travel on, surprisingly always in hope.

Cold Blood

Dear Gary—

“In future, when you talk about this . . .”

(And I will; and I’ll try to be kind.)

“. . . you tell people there was a chance, but you were so much less than the best of humanity.”

All of the set up from The Hungry Earth comes to fruition as expected.

It is a decent episode, like its predecessor just good enough. The atmospheric first half makes way here in Cold Blood for an underground Model UN, spurred on by the Doctor’s inspiring words of “Do good for humanity, and for Earth,” and “Come on, be extraordinary.”  It is ultimately an exercise in futility that for some reason is given gravitas by voiceover narration from Eldane some thousand years in the future. It takes its tone from “I dressed for Rio” Amy. It is a romp; teens playing at war games; at least underground. Above ground Rory and Ambrose take things more seriously, and these are the strongest elements to the story.

Ambrose has been set up to take the fall, and she does it well. She plays the scared woman genuinely concerned for her family, and yet she leaves little room for understanding of her actions. As the plot’s patsy she needs to maintain that baseness of character to underscore the Doctor’s “best of humanity” moral. Defense of home and family is not a legitimate vindication in this Doctor Who world, and despite momentary cracks in her defiant demeanor she remains the black sheep of the group without becoming an outright villain. There is a wealth of gray area in her portrayal that defies the one-dimensional nature of her role. There is no tea and sympathy for Ambrose as she stoically accepts the Doctor’s admonition. She did what she had to do and would probably do it again; and she will live with that knowledge.

Rory, on the other hand, is helplessly heroic. He cannot undo what Ambrose has done, and he can only stand by as Ambrose pushes ahead with her bold rejection of Restac’s demands. But he nobly takes on responsibility for the group and quietly leads them down below with Alaya’s body. He knows what is right and he does it, regardless of the consequences.

Meanwhile the toy soldiers and mock delegates carry on below. Restac is the wild card on this level. Alaya taunts Ambrose until she spills first blood in a mildly convincing gambit to depict the Silurians as a basically peace-loving race who will only act in self defense. Restac, however, doesn’t seem to honor this code in her heart (makes you wonder why she was put in charge of the warrior class, but oh well).  It is only by sheer chance that one or more of the Doctor’s gang is not dead.  Just in the nick of time Eldane appears on the scene to calm his quarrelsome kids. “You woke him to undermine me,” little sis Restac accuses a gloating Malohkeh.  That’s when the great diplomat Eldane makes his big mistake: “Shush now, Restac. Go and play soldiers. I’ll let you know if I need you.” There is nothing a sulky teen resents more than being sent to her room. If that sulky teen happens to have a gun and control of an army, look out.

The Silurians are destined never to find peace on Earth.

All of the component pieces of Cold Blood are well executed.  The peace negotiations are interesting as the two sides come to a surprisingly swift and satisfactory agreement (even though the pact has no realistic chance of ever being accepted by the powers that be). The various standoffs are compelling. The final run-for-your-lives moments are suspenseful. And the grief that Restac expresses as she kneels by her dead sister is especially effective. All of it comes together in an enjoyable 45 minutes, even if it all comes apart upon close examination.

“Are you authorized to negotiate on behalf of the planet?”

The answer is of course a resounding no. Amy and Nasreen both recognize this, yet the Doctor sets them on this task and they dive in with all due earnestness. I can only take the Doctor’s “come on, who has more fun than us” justification as a qualifying wink. He has to know that even if he can swing UNIT backing using his connections, this is going to be a hard sell to the various power blocs. Natural distrust and political posturing aside, at the very least the sudden emergence of millions of lizard people, even in currently uninhabitable areas of the world, would warrant dozens of environmental impact studies taking who knows how many years. The Silurians might as well hit their snooze alarm.

That brings up the question of these dozing reptiles. Eldane says, “Our sole purpose has been to return to our rightful place.” Then why are they still sleeping? Malohkeh and his family before him have been awake “through the millennia” and have been studying the “apes.” Surely they know that the Earth’s surface is safe. Why didn’t they wake their brethren years ago?

What of Malohkeh? “Malohkeh, I rather love you,” the Doctor tells him when the scientist says he never meant to harm Elliot. He never meant to harm him; he just kidnapped him (along with many other children apparently) and slowed down his lifecycle to study him. And he only kidnapped Mo and Amy for dissection. (Mo seems to have survived the process without any ill effects, though. I guess Malohkeh didn’t remove any vital organs, simply opened Mo up to take a look-see.) So it’s OK for the Silurians to take human specimens and keep them in glass cases and experiment on them, as long as they don’t kill them. (And I notice that the Doctor doesn’t bother looking for any of those other children locked up by Malohkeh and family.)

Then there is the drill that Ambrose and Tony Mack have started up to threaten the Silurians. In The Hungry Earth the Silurians had a defense against that. They were able to stop the power. They were able to use bio-programming, to hear the Doctor explain it, to halt the drilling. They also were able to activate an energy barricade around the drill site. Yet none of this is even considered when Ambrose and Tony Mack make their threat in Cold Blood. Instead it is left for the Doctor to come up with a plan to blow up the drill.

And of course we have the petulant Restac on the rampage with her army. I have to wonder, as the Doctor uses his sonic screwdriver to deactivate their weapons, why he hasn’t ever done this before. Is the sonic only effective against Silurian weaponry and useless against, say, Sontaran guns? And Eldane’s ultimate solution of Toxic Fumigation is pulled out of a hat, but OK. So he sends the soldiers back to their sleep. Why does this mean they now have to wait another thousand years? “The Earth isn’t ready for us to return yet,” Eldane proclaims. Based on what? On one woman’s act of violence out of love and fear? On the murderous vengeance sought by one of his own? If the Doctor really had faith in his peace plan, why not bring Eldane up to the surface with them and set about gathering the nations for a real peace conference? No, it’s so much easier to send the Silurians back to their slumber and not have to deal with them anymore.

Like so much of New Who, it is best not to think too hard upon viewing. Just sit back, let the story unfold, and enjoy.

Until the end when the Crack appears and the Doctor carelessly gets Rory killed.

The Crack. The Crack, the Crack, the Crack. I hate the Crack. How is it that the Doctor can stick his hand inside with no repercussions but anyone else just has to get too close and is wiped from history?

I do have to say, though, that the impact of Rory’s death and erasure from time is extremely effective. I don’t know why Amy and the Doctor never think to drag the dying Rory into the TARDIS, but the following scene as Amy desperately tries to hang on to Rory’s memory is heartbreaking. (Although I again have to wonder how she can remember her mother but not Rory.) When she does inevitably forget it is even more tragic and the Doctor’s reaction even more touching.

I also have to give some credit to the TARDIS shrapnel; despite my hatred of this Crack, the last few minutes of Cold Blood provide some of the most intriguing and baffling moments of the season. If only that darn Crack could live up to this promise.

Like the Doctor, I travel on in hope, Gary; hope that the next will not be so much less than the best of Doctor Who.

The Hungry Earth

Dear Gary—

The Silurians are the best Classic Who monster reboot yet. Mind you, the first few minutes into The Hungry Earth as Mo gets pulled under the ground I’m thinking: Tractators! Even the title of the episode has echoes of Frontios. The ominous statement, “The earth is hungry,” from that long ago serial has its counterpart here in, “The graves eat people.”  It is an eerie set-up that doesn’t quite live up to its promise; the main problem being that the entire episode itself is clearly a set-up and as such it drags a bit.

There is some decent tension, and the shadowy forms of Silurians in the darkened cemetery are especially effective. However when it comes to the twelve minutes our heroes have to prepare for the ascending unknown, any sense of suspense is diffused when you consider that what they do in those twelve minutes is laughably impossible. Two and a half minutes are used up by the Doctor, Nasreen and Tony Mack (love that name by the way—it rolls off the tongue and I just can’t refer to the man as simply Tony or Mr. Mack; it must be Tony Mack; just as Don Ameche is never Don or Mr. Ameche) gathering up vital equipment, making their way out of the building, climbing a hill, and meeting up with Rory. In reality that would take at least ten minutes, but in Doctor Who time it is only two and one half. The remaining nine and one half minutes are even more ridiculous, with the gang setting up surveillance equipment (a job that would represent at least half a day’s work for a team of experienced professionals), with Elliot creating a complete crayon map of the area, with Ambrose rounding up a mini arsenal of weapons, and with the Doctor in each of these places interacting and explaining and finding time to chat. At no time does anyone seem particularly rushed or possessed with a sense of urgency. The only way they can do everything they do in those twelve minutes is if the Doctor cheats and takes them back in time in the TARDIS.

As a set-up, though, The Hungry Earth does a nice job of introducing our guest cast, complete with incidental details that provide character depth, like Elliot’s dyslexia. Elliot also serves to illicit some quiet pockets of feeling from the Doctor. Elliot asks if the Doctor ever misses his home, and with a simple, “So much,” Matt Smith manages to convey a deep sense of loss and longing that is heartbreaking. Alaya also draws out the Doctor: “No, you’re really not,” the Doctor tells her when she claims to be the last of her species, “because I’m the last of my species and I know how it sits in a heart.” Tony Mack and Nasreen are memorable as well, and the establishment of their relationship is simple, direct, and effective.

The role of Ambrose is more complex and simplistic at the same time; and I’m not sure, Gary, if I can do this justice, especially without jumping ahead to the second part of this two part story. If The Hungry Earth is the set-up for Cold Blood, Ambrose is the set-up for the plot mechanics.

Let me start with an extremely minor point.

Ambrose to Rory in graveyard: “It’s a family plot, see. My Aunt Gladys died six years ago. Her husband, Alun, died a few weeks back. He lived in the house two doors down. There’s not many of us left up here now.”

Elliot: “Mum, he doesn’t care about that.”

Every time I see this episode this tiny bit of dialogue jumps out at me and I’m never sure why. What strikes me first is Elliot’s “he doesn’t care about that” response.  I think now that it telegraphs Ambrose’s role as set-up woman. This snippet of a scene that ultimately goes nowhere and is forgotten exists largely to give Rory something to do and to separate him from the Doctor and Amy. The part about the graves eating people is eerie but we have the direct evidence of first Mo and then Amy being dragged underground so it is unnecessary. The one tiny bit of new information is provided by Ambrose as she prattles on about things nobody is interested in, and that is that the area surrounding our arena of action is practically deserted.

Which leads me off into a side shoot—this major drill site is not only abandoned of dwellings but also only requires a three-man crew (or two-man, one-woman crew) to operate. It also appears to be a private endeavor and I’m not sure where Nasreen and/or Tony Mack came up with the pile of cash for this massive feat. But I digress.

Back to Ambrose.

Ambrose is set up as a loving mother and concerned daughter (not so much caring wife—she occasionally throws an afterthought towards Mo but for the most part it is Elliot and Tony Mack who take front and center in her mind).  However there is little sympathy given this motivation. Through the eyes of the show this is merely an excuse for her actions. Her real raison d’être is to propel the plot.

It is not a coincidence, therefore, that she is the impetus for the Doctor to give his pacifist manifesto: “No, no weapons. It’s not the way I do things.” It is perfectly reasonable for Ambrose to collect weapons in their defense. But not in the eyes of the Doctor; not in the eyes of the show; and not, by extension, in the eyes of the viewer.

This brings me to another aside and back to the Silurians. The Silurians always bring out the pacifist in the Doctor. Regardless of the countless enemies the Doctor has defeated and destroyed and decimated; regardless of the Doctor’s claim to Elliot about monsters, “No they’re scared of me;” the Doctor always rings out the cry for peace and diplomacy whenever the Silurians enter the scene. As if on cue.

And so this two part story as set up by The Hungry Earth is about the Doctor once again trying to broker a peace between the Earth’s current residents and its ancient inhabitants and with Ambrose poised to be the spoiler. We have hostages on either side—Amy, Mo, and Elliot underground and Alaya up top. We have a giant drill aimed at the heart of the Silurian civilization and an army of sleeping Silurians waiting to march again. It is simple and classic; tried and true.

It has its good moments and its bad, often intermixed. Like a terrified Amy waking up in a glass coffin. For the most part she pulls off a reasonably believable scared defiance; until that is the final “Shush.” At that point she turns into a tantrum throwing teen incensed that her parents are shushing her. Like the impossible twelve minutes, it diffuses the tension. Not that we ever really believe anything bad will happen to Amy. Even the Doctor’s and Rory’s concern for her welfare is muted.

Muted. That sums up The Hungry Earth. It has all the elements of a good thriller but it never quite succeeds at it.

Finally, to sum up and set up, we have these stirring words from the Doctor:

“While I’m gone, you four people, in this church, in this corner of planet Earth, you have to be the best of humanity.”

Not exactly the best of Doctor Who, but Matt Smith delivers them beautifully.

And so I leave you, Gary, with Ambrose set up to not be the best of humanity and the Doctor set up to expect the best of humanity and the audience set up for the second of this two part story, not expecting it to be the best of Doctor Who but hoping at the very least that like its predecessor it will be good enough.

Amy's Choice

Dear Gary—

Amy’s Choice is OK I guess, but I don’t like it mainly because I have no patience for this type of thing. I mean, personally, if a Dream Lord came to me and said he had set up two scenarios, both of which end in death and only one of which is real, and that I had to chose which one to die in to either wake up or actually die; well, if a Dream Lord came to me with those choices I’d just sleep it out. I’d roll over and sleep it out. I would probably curl up in the cold TARDIS under as many blankets as I could and sleep. Who does this Dream Lord think he is, anyway, invading my dreams? If it’s my dream I’d just ignore him; send him packing; laugh in his face.

This isn’t my dream, though. It is the Doctor’s and Rory’s and Amy’s dream. A three in one dream. Well, three in two dreams actually. Not one of them thinks to question the veracity of this Dream Lord or challenge him in any way. They simply accept his terms and try to stay alive in both worlds long enough to determine which one to die in. Why not stay alive in both? If one is a dream they’re bound to wake up eventually. And if only one is a dream and one is reality, how do they think the Dream Lord has manipulated the real world to put them into danger?

Here’s something I’ve come to realize about this Eleventh Doctor. He doesn’t do much thinking outside of the confines of the text. Just as he accepts the Dream Lord’s terms, he accepts the author’s lines and never questions his stage directions. If the pages in front of him are telling him he only has two equally impossible options he takes that at face value. It’s up to Amy to see the bigger construct of the plot and make the right decision. Hence the title, Amy’s Choice.

Unless of course the Doctor knows from the start that this is simply a cruel exercise to make Amy choose between him and Rory. He is after all the Dream Lord. Does he know this all the time and does he play along to see which man Amy prefers? Or maybe I’ll give him a break since he is in a dream state and not thinking clearly.

Amy’s choice. That is the reason for this story. Amy’s choice; Rory or the Doctor; Rory is dead; Rory is alive again. It’s a broken record (just to look ahead for a moment, Gary). This is rapidly shaping up to a season with its script showing. Everything is intentional and directional and obviously so.

In and of itself Amy’s Choice is interesting in concept and it does have some compelling moments, elements of humor, and intriguing insights into the Doctor’s psyche. Overall, however, I find it rather dull when it’s not annoying me.

I know immediately that the Upper Leadworth segments are a dream. It’s not just that the town is too storybook, it is also that the show would not gloss over five years of TARDIS companion years like that. Last we left Rory, Amy, and the Doctor they were in the TARDIS; to see the couple settled and pregnant in ordinary life does not fit in with the Doctor Who world. We know something is afoot therefore, and when the Dream Lord comes along it suddenly makes sense. Now it is just a matter of waiting for our trio to figure it out while being chased by geriatric patients wielding garden implements.

At least there is some action in Upper Leadworth, slow motion though it may be. The TARDIS segments are static with the three standing around and shivering. Despite this fact, most of the personal interaction takes place in the former, and it is here where Amy makes her choice. “If this is real life,” she declares, “I don’t want it.” Rory is dead (sniff, sniff) and Amy realizes she loves him. She was only going to marry the guy, but it takes his fake death to convince her.  “I love Rory,” she says, “and I never told him.” Again, she was only going to marry the guy.

I mock, but it is actually quite touching. Rory makes it so. Prior to his death Rory is funny, loveable, sweet, heroic. Amy doesn’t know how lucky she is, at least until his death by Poggit finally makes her see it. (Well, I say finally but this is not final; it seems we will go through this same thing ad nauseam, but for this one episode it is over and done.)

The first time viewing this I was surprised by the reveal that the TARDIS scenario is also a dream, but not as much time or effort is committed to those segments so it has more of a 'oh by the way' feel to it. The reveal that the Doctor is in fact the Dream Lord is interesting and says  a lot about who he is in the dark recesses of his mind if I cared enough at this point to explore the matter further, which I find that I don't.

In the end this whole exercise was a result of some dust in the console. The Edge of Destruction, a similar TARDIS induced psychodrama, handles the concept much more effectively. We learn so much more about the TARDIS inhabitants in that long ago serial than the simple 'Amy loves Rory' message we get here.

“Amy’s men. Amy’s choice.” It is a refrain that echoes through the early going of the Eleventh Doctor’s time corridor, Gary. Over and over and over and over . . .

The Vampires of Venice

Dear Gary—

The Vampires of Venice is a bit of harmless, lightweight fun; slightly sophomoric with unexpected flashes of feeling. This story fits in nicely with the spirit of Rory’s bachelor party as well as with some Classic Who camp, like Warriors of the Deep for instance. You can’t take it too seriously, but you can sit back and enjoy the show.

Let’s look at just one example—the fresh young vampire fish slinking around in their long flowing white nighties, even in broad daylight (which sometimes they can handle and sometimes they can’t). These model types were chosen for their complementary long flowing hair rather than their acting skills; it is amateur theatrics at best and conjures up images of Manos: The Handsof Fate. Oh what Joely and the bots could do with this.

Not much thought is put into the construction of the plot. It opens with Guido desperately begging Rosanna to take his daughter into her posh prep school and immediately looking concerned when Isabella is accepted. Next thing we know he is trying to break her out. There is little evidence that Rosanna is doing anything for these girls or for the city, and yet the whole of Venice falls all over itself to please her. This commercial city whose lifeblood is trade even goes so far as to put itself under strict quarantine at her command. Something is definitely fishy in Venice.

The Saturnynians didn’t think through their plan either. Ten thousand brothers are waiting for a handful of fish wives. That’s some serious sibling rivalry in the making. While the husbands swim patiently in the canals (apparently Venetians know enough to stay out of the water) the prep school girls maintain a low profile by parading through the streets in not-suspicious-at-all-looking attire to endure the whispers of wary citizens and are only occasionally accosted by concerned family members. Somehow this desperate race on the verge of extinction has built a massive weather manipulating machine in 1580 Italy. Rather than simply swimming away into the vast oceans available to them, they want to sink the city once the marriage ceremony is complete. I guess it is the ideal honeymoon spot for these Venetian-converted fish girls.

A word about this weather machine. “Right. To begin, let’s fill the sky with fire,” Rosanna declares as she puts her grand scheme into action. Except there is no fire. There are dark clouds, thunder, lightening, and rain. Cue the Doctor Who extras running around and screaming. “We are Venetians!” Venetians afraid of a thunderstorm; who would have thought. And then the whole thing is turned off by the flick of a switch. Sun comes out. Cue Disney songbirds; cue Doctor Who extras applauding. Blue skies take a bow.

“Funny how you can say something in your head and it sounds fine.”

The Doctor’s use of this trope sums up The Vampires of Venice. The script is riddled with similar high school caliber clichés. (“Yours is bigger than mine.”) However, interspersed amongst such things as, “Did you just say something about Mummy?” are some genuine moments like, “You know what’s dangerous about you? It’s not that you make people take risks, it’s that you make them want to impress you.”

Helping the script along are some fine actors. It has long been said of Doctor Who that no matter how outrageous or silly the material it is critical that the cast treats it in all seriousness. That is a key to its success and Helen McCrory as Signora Rosanna Calvierri takes it to heart. Her face offs with the Doctor are fascinating to witness. (I do question, though, how Rosanna knows all about the Doctor. From the simple information that the Doctor is from Gallifrey she infers quite a lot to be able to taunt him with dead races. And to continue this aside—how is it that so many alien races in New Who know of the Time War and the Time Lord’s fate? They must all be on the same linear path as the Doctor, regardless of time period. If the First Doctor had landed in 1580 Venice you can be sure that the Saturnynians would never have heard of the Time War, but since it is the Eleventh who meets up with them, they must have traveled back in time to 1580 themselves and are therefore on the same Doctorian calendar.) But back to our actors . . . Arthur Daville as Rory is also excellent and a welcome addition to the TARDIS crew.

Good acting can’t always help however.

Isabella: “Something touched my leg! They’re all around me. They bite!”

I’m not sure who Isabella is directing this play by play to as she treads water in the canal. I think the audience gets it between the gurgling water, the references to lost children, and Rosanna’s touching concern for her ten thousand hungry sons beneath the surface. When Isabella is pulled below, though—now that’s a dead giveaway.

Now about those ten thousand hungry bachelors. Are we to believe that now that Mummy and the brides are dead they will harmlessly live out their lives in the canals of Venice (as long as no one goes swimming) and die out? After a while wouldn’t you think one or two of the thousands would get the bright idea to go in search of some brides for themselves? And none of this waiting around for the good peoples of Venice to willingly offer up their daughters. These vampire fish people would work like the good old fashioned vampires of yore—in the dark of night and in back alleys stalking their prey.

I’m not too sure about Rosanna sacrificing herself, either. So her converts are dead and her weather machine switched off—can’t she find new brides for her sons? Start again? And then go swimming out to the oceans rather than sinking Venice? Maybe look up those lost fish people of Atlantis from The Underwater Menace. I also have to wonder how it is that she stays in human form when she has taken off her perception filter. That’s one powerful device that continues to function (faulty though it is) after being discarded.

Finally we have more ominous crack warnings and the dreaded Silence. Rosanna speaks of many cracks existing—I wonder if they are all the same shape as that which continues to follow the Doctor and Amy about. We do know that there is some variety in the cracks: “Some were tiny. Some were as big as the sky. Through some we saw worlds and people, and through others we saw Silence and the end of all things.” Apparently you can pick and choose which crack to jump through too, like Prisoner Zero. I wonder if they all end up on Earth. Or perhaps wherever the TARDIS happens to land, which 99% of the time will be Earth.

Sometimes, Gary, I want to jump through one of those cracks back to a simpler time, a simpler Doctor Who; maybe look up those lost fish people from Atlantis . . .

Flesh and Stone

Dear Gary—

Soooo . . . this crack is a good thing? Just think of the possibilities. The Doctor and Amy could travel around through time and space followed by this giant vacuum cleaner ridding the universe of all manner of pests. They could go back to Skaro and exterminate the Daleks. They could find out where the Cybermen are lurking and delete. That’s one handy shop-vac they have there.

But no, it’s not good. It is just convenient, and that’s a big problem as the promising story started in the first half falls apart in the second. The Time of Angels set up the Angels as a powerful enemy for the Doctor, but Flesh and Stone renders them meaningless. I’m not sure if the script made the Angels too unstoppable and therefore had to come up with this even more formidable foe to take care of them as the only way out, or if it knew all along that this big, bad crack was going to eliminate the Angels and so it felt it could make them as unbeatable as it wanted because they were going to be swept under the carpet as a matter of course. Either way is unpardonable. The Doctor doesn’t have to even consider ways to defeat the Angels because with one magic swoop they are gone. Nonexistent. What was the fuss about anyway? I forget.

That’s not to say that there are not some suspenseful moments along the way.

Doctor: “Now, counting. What’s that about? Bob, why are they making her count?”

Angel Bob: “To make her afraid, sir.”

Doctor: “Okay, but why? What for?”

Angel Bob: “For fun, sir.”

It is effectively disturbing and creepy. It also emphasizes the fact that these Angels have no sane explanation for their actions.

But now I know why they have no motivation; why they are killing simply for killing’s sake. The trouble of creating a plot is unnecessary because the Angels themselves are pointless. This has been a two part story all in service of The Crack. It could be anything menacing our fearless heroes in the jungle as long as it keeps the tension up.

The Crack is the only semblance of reason in the story. The Angels are after the power source; the chasing and killing of Clerics is only by way of amusement for them in the interim. But then they suddenly realize that The Crack is dangerous and they want to throw the Doctor in to appease the angry god.

The glaring light of The Crack, however, serves to shine a spotlight on the gaping holes in the narrative.

The initial Angel comes to Alfava Metraxis to free the army of Angels trapped in the caverns, presumably to go on a murderous rampage across the universe just for kicks. The Crack showing up is pure coincidence courtesy of the script. The Doctor showing up is another piece of luck for the Angels.

Now, why does the Doctor show up? Because after his miraculous rescue of River he follows the Byzantium on which the initial Angel is traveling. Why does he follow the Byzantium? Because River tells him to. Why does River tell him to? Because River (and the Clerics) is (are) after the initial Angel. Why is River (and the Clerics) after the initial Angel? I’m not sure. They have this book that raises vague warnings about the Angels and they therefore go off in hot pursuit after one Angel to neutralize it even though they know it has been dormant for centuries while it has passed from one private collection to another.  For this Octavian expects River to provide an army (or the Doctor who is the equivalent) and in turn will provide River with a pardon. Why he thinks he needs an army to go after one dormant Angel, let alone why River is the only one he can turn to for such an army, is unexplained.

Regardless, our cast of characters is assembled so that The Crack can do its dirty.

In the meantime the Angels begin their slow but relentless pursuit of the Doctor and company in their cruel game of tag.

Then there is this hilarious bit of blind man’s bluff. It is actually very well done. On the surface it is a masterpiece of suspense. The one defense against Angels is to see them; Amy, who is semi-possessed of an Angel, must keep her eyes closed to keep it from taking full possession. Amy must make her unseeing way through a forest of Angels guided only by the Doctor’s voice and the sound of the Doctor’s sonic screwdriver on her communicator. Quite a damned if you do, damned if you don’t situation. You have to look at an Angel to stop it, but if you look in an Angel’s eyes you’re a goner; if you do look in an Angel’s eyes you have to keep your own eyes closed to keep it at bay, but then you can’t see the Angels around you and you’re dead anyway. The one loophole in this is that the Angels have bricks for brains and can’t tell if a person’s eyes are open or closed. They know if you blink and will be on you in a second, but if you keep your eyes firmly shut and simply act as though you can see they are fooled. You don’t even have to act very hard; Amy stumbling around and waving her arms about is hardly convincing; not to mention the fact that the Doctor announced the plan for all to hear and I’m sure the Angels were listening. The Angels soon tire of this diversion, but just when they decide to go in for the kill River gets the teleport working. Phew.

This Angel amusement park is crashed by The Crack in the nick of time.

“Never mind the Angels. There’s worse here than the Angels.”

First the crack amuses itself with the Clerics, though. This is so that we can learn the vital fact that The Crack erases its victims from time. The Crack is Time Energy. One by one the Clerics walk towards the light and are no more. Again it is well done; it is suspenseful; it is eerie. But I really have to wonder. Amy asks the Doctor how it is that she can remember these men who have never been born and the Doctor replies, “You’re a time traveler now, Amy. It changes the way you see the universe . . . forever.” Going back to The Eleventh Hour, how is it that little Amelia Pond (pre time traveling Amy) has memories of her long lost mother, or even how little Amelia Pond could have been born if her mother never was. But I guess that is jumping ahead to serials yet to come and I can’t remember if those questions are addressed.

For the immediate serial, however, I wonder what River’s fate will be now that the Angels have been swallowed by The Crack. If the initial Angel they were chasing never existed, how will the powers that be remember why they let River out of prison, much less that they promised her a pardon. Unless it was Father Octavian alone who took it upon himself to spring her, and now that he is dead will that murder be placed on her since the real culprits never existed? And since they never existed, does that mean Octavian was never murdered and therefore alive? And that they never came to Alfava Metraxis in the first place because their reason for doing so has been erased from time? Ah, the wibbly wobbly nature of Doctor Who time.

“Time can be rewritten.”

All in all Flesh and Stone is entertaining enough and in that it does its job. The principals of the Doctor, Amy, and River are again excellent and the Doctor’s “No, seriously, get a grip” solution is cleverly done. The final moments of the episode are rather jarring after the dark tension of the preceding hour, but I suppose it sets the tone for the story to come; although Amy’s blatant attempt at seduction the night before her wedding is off-putting and doesn’t bode well.

For now, Gary, I will ignore “when the Pandorica opens” and instead will leave you with this interesting observation by the Doctor:

“If I always told you the truth, I wouldn’t need you to trust me.”

And so I will yet again place my trust in the Doctor and continue on . . .