Coming out of a long hibernation mostly to say that I need to eat a lot of the bad words I have said about Russell T Davies in the run up to this season. Between 73 Yards and this, I don’t want to call this series an instant classic, but these are two of the best modern Doctor Who episodes made in years.
This is how you make a Doctor-lite episode in 2024. This is Russell operating inside his wheelhouse - this is the man who made Children of Earth taking a knife to the guts of society, but also managing to cradle it tenderly in his arms. This is a masterpiece of duality; the moments where Lindy hugs for the first time, or literally has to learn to walk, these are all things that inspire tremendous empathy. It’s not tonally undercut by the reveal that she’s a massive racist. We’re not supposed to identify, we’re supposed to feel sorry for her, and it works.
We’re supposed to feel like The Doctor feels at the end of the episode. Ncuti’s speech, “I don’t care what you think, I am going to try and save your lives if you let me, just let me!” (paraphrasing) is such a tremendous “I am The Doctor” moment and I really hope it doesn’t get slept on just because he’s going to go “Full Capaldi” in the next Christmas special.
Between this and 73 Yards I’m pretty gobsmacked with the dedication to storytelling, and the lack of punch pulling. Is it sometimes unsubtle? Yes, but when were we expecting subtlety from RTD? Except he also does manage it, in the way he characterizes The Doctor.
This is a classic Hartnell/Troughton era weird science story. What with the protag in full Polly regalia the entire time, a society predicated on shipping their young off to a colony, except the colony is all dead, there are aliens and no one will listen, etc, etc, all the hallmarks of a classic late 60s story where Troughton solves the problem by inventing LSD, then fucks off and leaves all the attractive young hippies to solve the problem. And then, like clockwork, the Doctor Who nerds come along and say “well, they’d probably actually all die? Doesn’t The Doctor leave an awful lot of terrible things in his wake?”, not to mention the Toymaker drilling that into him in his last incarnation.
So at the end of this very 60s story, where there’s the moment when they can leave and let them fend for themselves and inevitably die, he changes. This is where the “I’m doing therapy in reverse” thing pays off for me, because he actively chooses to be better than he was. His TARDIS IS bigger on the inside. He can take them all if he wants to. And he actually offers.
And they tell him no. And the subtle work being done throughout to tell you that this society has more wrong to it than slugs and social media hits you like a punch in the gut. It’s the same moment Jodie got in The Witchfinders, really. When you think or maybe want Russell to shy away from the fact that the Doctor is a Black man now, and that there’s a very significant chance any spacefaring society derived from human culture could be extremely racist, they don’t. They make it the crux of this entire ending. The Doctor is rejected.
And he asks them again. And they still tell him no. This is as bleak as it gets but also is a perfect moment, mid season, for this Doctor to have. It shows the change, but it also reminds him and us that the universe is unkind, maybe there’s more wrong here than he can fix, no matter how hard he tries.
And yes, next week it’s bird people. But the stories are maturing week on week, the show looks as visually enthralling as it ever has, the directing is fantastic. But I am happy to have been proven wrong by Doctor Who this past fortnight. Thank God for it, truly.
