The Name of the Doctor

Chapter The 192nd, which contains compound colliding continuity.

Plot:

The disembodied Great Intelligence, with his scary faceless nursery-rhyme spouting Whisper Men goons, feeds information to a murderer in 1893 as part of a plan to trap the Doctor. This is revenge for all the times the Doctor has thwarted the Intelligence (presumably including their couple of skirmishes in the 1960s when it wasn't played by Richard E Grant as it seems to be able to time travel now). The information prompts Vastra to hold a seance cum conference call communing across time with Jenny, Strax, Clara and the version of River Song stored in the Library hard drive after her death. The Whisper Men kidnap Vastra, Jenny and Strax (Jenny's dead for a while but nobody stays dead for long in a Steven Moffat script) and take them to Trenzalore, site of the Doctor's future grave. The Doctor breaks the rules about crossing his future timeline and lands there too.

Clara is still linked to the conference call and can see and hear River talking to her on Trenzalore even though nobody else can. River helps Clara and the Doctor enter the TARDIS, which is acting as the Doctor's tomb. His corpse is a wibbly vortexy tear in the fabric of space/time or something, and the Great Intelligence jumps in and rewrites the Doctor's history undoing all the good he's done. Clara jumps in after him and undoes all the undoing, fragmenting herself into different versions (explaining why the Doctor had met her before twice but she died both times). The Doctor has always been able to see River, and talks to her; her being still connected to Clara gives him the hint that Clara's still alive, so he jumps into his timeline to save her. He finds her, and they see a... memory? projection? of another mystery Doctor played by John Hurt who apparently did something bad and wasn't worthy of the name any longer. To be continued....

Context:

Watched the blu-ray from the series 7 box-set with the two youngest children (boy of 11, girl of 9) on a Sunday afternoon at the end of their half-term holiday. The Better Half also came in and watched sections of this as it played out, as she couldn't remember seeing it first time around. The children wanted to watch The Day of the Doctor immediately after watching this story, which I guess is what it's built to cause. The Better Half was a bit more dismissive about the end "They're just trying to recreate the end of Rose and David Tennant every time - it's been done". She left the room before I could confirm whether she meant the separation of Doctor and companion in wibbly time thing (Doctor and Clara) or the emotional goodbye when one's kind-of a hologram (Doctor and River), but there are certainly echoes of both.

First Time Round:

I can never usually remember much about my first experience of Matt Smith stories. I would have watched this on the evening of broadcast, probably time-shifted as the children were very young so we'd likely have been putting them to bed during Who's broadcast slot. As has become a habit in these circumstances, I will instead share a Doctor Who related reminiscence from a different time. This one is from near the beginning of the so called wilderness years, when Doctor Who was not being made as a ongoing series. It is the story of how I rediscovered my fandom at a time where I could have done without such distractions. The final BBC series starring Sylvester McCoy had finished broadcasting in early December 1989. Though I had still watched the show assiduously towards the end of the 1980s, and was starting to collect the sporadic VHS releases, I had stopped reading Doctor Who Magazine in 1987. The family had been paying for the magazine to be delivered from the newsagents alongside the papers until the price went up and they knocked it on the head. I could only pick up news about the series from said papers, and sometimes the Radio Times (though we didn't often get that publication), so my fan awareness reduced to its lowest level since I'd got into Doctor Who in the early 80s.

In April 1990, over four months after the series had last broadcast when it was becoming obvious it wouldn't be back for a while, I was in a shop in Bognor Regis when visiting my Dad. I saw a copy of Doctor Who Magazine issue 160. It had a good quality artwork cover and the content within seemed much more detailed and interesting than what I'd been reading a few years earlier. This, plus the videos starting to come out more regularly (with important stories like An Unearthly Child and The War Games having been released that February) rekindled my deeper interest. Before too long, I had become a member of the Doctor Who Appreciation Society, was subscribing to Doctor Who Magazine and was enthusiastically sourcing back copies of the issues I'd missed. This re-found obsession wouldn't have been a problem except that I was supposed to be revising for my A-levels at the time. I did disastrously, and had to do another year of sixth form and retake the exams. It was nothing ultimately to do with Doctor Who, of course; that was just a symptom of my underlying dissociation, which with hindsight could have been stress or anxiety or depression, but we didn't talk of such things at that time (or nobody around me did anyway). It turned out fine; that third year - where I went from being the youngest in the year to one of the oldest - was enormous fun, and Durham University kept my offer open. Doctor Who Magazine and the VHS range went from strength to strength into 1991 and throughout the 1990s, as I've touched upon in the blog passim. 

Reaction:

Nothing much happens in The Name of the Doctor, or at least nothing much in the real world. The action is mostly in various dreamscapes or almost worlds. A long sequence takes place in what's referred to as a literal dream by the characters (the conference call), more takes place in the Doctor's timestream and is then undone and redone, meaning things return to their original state; sometimes this timestream appears as a dreamscape too. Even the events on Trenzalore, which seem imbued with deep meaning as it is the site of the Doctor's death - are in a possible future branch that, as we find out two stories later, never comes to pass as the Doctor does not die after all on Trenzalore.  What's left? Aside from the uncovering of some information about various ongoing arc plots, this is essentially the tale of Vastra doing a prison visit, and Clara receiving a letter. The Doctor says an emotional final farewell to River too, of course, I'm being a bit unfair not including that; but, he does give an emotional final farewell to River in - what? - two or three other stories, so it's not that special. This is the major flaw with a lot of writer and showrunner Steven Moffat's finales; they are too caught up in progressing the overarching narrative - often just by colouring in some exposition dolled up with clever dialogue and occasional pyrotechnics - to develop the scenario of the episode itself or have anything significant change in the characters' lives. You might get revelations, but no revolutions.

At first glance there seems to be a lot going on, I'll grant you, but perhaps this is itself the problem. By my reckoning there are four overarching plot lines that have run across multiple episodes and in some cases multiple years that continue or end in the space of the 45 minutes of The Name of the Doctor. Did any one of them have much chance of weight or significance in such a crowded space? In addition to the four - and its a useful example to touch upon - there's a scene just before the credits that acts as a taster for the anniversary special story that would follow it a few months later, The Day of the Doctor. This last scene has literally nothing to do with the rest of the story, it is tacked on. The fact that it doesn't seem that way is because of a clever bit of wordplay on Moffat's part. The confrontation between the Doctor and his previous self has a brief dialogue exchange where Matt Smith tells John Hurt that his actions were "Not in the name of the Doctor". The story up to that point has been about the Doctor's real name (well, a bit, anyway) and the words spoken are the title of the story - cha-ching! The coherence achieved by this slight of hand doesn't bear much scrutiny - give it much thought and the story of the week seems even more slight as it just looks like a bunch of filler material before a trailer for the main event to come. There's also a slight awkwardness in making a big deal that John Hurt's character, though the same person, is not called the Doctor, then emblazoning the screen with "INTRODUCING JOHN HURT as THE DOCTOR". But it would be petty not to let this casting coup be celebrated.

The first overarching plot line to feature is the 'impossible girl' thread which comes to an end having started in the very first story of this season broadcast in 2012 (Asylum of the Daleks). The positive here is that the solution to the mystery (Clara's split into lots of different people living different lives throughout the Doctor's adventures) allows for lots of clips of old stories where Clara appears, inserted into the archive Trials and Tribble-ations stylee; it's a little indulgent, but like the aforementioned Star Trek Deep Space Nine episode it was being broadcast as part of an anniversary celebration year. The inclusion of Clara aiding the William Hartnell Doctor in his stealing a TARDIS to flee Gallifrey is audacious, and I'm sure ruffled a few fan feathers at the time; now, of course, we know the moment was just a little interlude in the many long lives of the Timeless Child - how far we've come! Additional meta fun for fans is the ability offered by this for any continuity slip or visible crewmember in the history of Doctor Who to be explained away: it was probably Clara's helping hand holding down Sutekh's chair cushion, for example. Such boons are for a niche audience, though. Beyond them (us), did anyone care how the impossible girl stuff panned out? It's a self-defeating concept, really - the character keeps dying and coming back, so the sacrifice she makes at the end has no real weight as a) it's inevitable, so not that brave and b) by definition can't be final as it makes death have no meaning. No confusing references to leaves or "Run, you clever boy and remember me" or "soufflé girl" can change that.

It's a similar state of affairs with the second overarching plot, the face-off between the Great Intelligence and the Doctor. This plot started with the most recent Christmas special, The Snowmen, in December 2012, and its culmination is supposed to be the main point of this specific story; but it falls a little flat because there hasn't been that much of a build up. There's a sequence where they both confront each other in The Snowmen, but that's at the Intelligence's initial creation, so they don't have any history; the Doctor doesn't meet the Intelligence in The Bells Of Saint John and doesn't learn that it was behind the events of that story, and most of the way through The Name of the Doctor they're kept apart. Apart from one moment of nastiness where the Whisper Men threaten to stop the hearts of the Doctor's friends, there isn't much antagonism at all. The Intelligence does a bit of monologuing and then jumps into the big wibbly story exit device. We're told that's the end of him, but then we're told that it'll kill Clara too and it doesn't, and we're told that there's no way the Doctor could rescue Clara from it and he does. Again, the nerdier watchers can factor in the two Patrick Troughton Great Intelligence stories to make this plot a bit more epic, but there's very little actually there in the script if one doesn't come to it laden with that mental baggage.

There's a bit more emotion in the elements of the final two overarching plots, which makes them a little weightier; these are the Doctor's journey to his death in Trenzalore, and his interactions with River Song. Both of these plots have run since at least the beginning of Matt Smith's time as the Doctor and would both continue after The Name of the Doctor. When the Doctor is told where he must go to save his friends, he breaks down in tears. Smith performs this very well but it doesn't convince because it's such an abstract thing to get upset about. He's only ever heard it rumoured that this is his final resting place. Perhaps if his breaking down happened later when he saw something more concrete, like his own grave (and if it was perhaps a more traditional depiction of a grave) it might help to sell it. Finally, there's the Doctor saying goodbye to River as mentioned above. This is the most successful of the four plots, but is subject to diminishing returns as the character can always come back at an earlier time in her timeline, and indeed does. There are some other pleasures too. The Paternoster Gang are always good value, and between them get all the best lines. I particularly liked Strax's "Surrender your women and intellectuals" and Vastra's reply to Strax as he comments, when nursing her wife Jenny, that the heart is a simple thing: "I have not found it to be so."  These little moments stayed with me much more than the confusion of plotlines that surrounded them.

Connectivity: 

Both feature at least one other version of the Doctor appearing in something of a flashback (the Doctor sees her younger self the Timeless Child in a nightmare during Can You Hear Me? and The Name of the Doctor is chock full of glimpses of other Doctors within the weird vortex-scape of the Doctor's timeline). Both also have the Doctor helped by an unusually large team (five apiece - Clara, River, Vastra, Jenny and Strax with Matt Smith's Doctor; Graham, Yaz, Ryan, Tibo and Tahira with Jodie). 

Deeper Thoughts:

Mythology 101. I remember an early interview or column from Russell T Davies before he brought Doctor Who back to our screens in 2005, on the topic of how to handle continuity. It must have been in Doctor Who Magazine, I'm guessing, as nowhere else would have showcased material quite so geeky. He commented something along the lines of continuity being a possible problem, but not if you treated it as the more interesting mythology. I believe he made a reference to Harry Potter, but as someone who has read and enjoyed the HP books, but still struggled through some dull passages like the lengthy, detailed descriptions of each and every member of the Order of the Phoenix, I think I need to understand more what exactly is the difference. Concentrating on Doctor Who and its relationship with its long history, some patterns emerge regarding stories which look back. Mostly, writers in all eras look back less for inspiration and more for window dressing. A script might include a mention or two, or an in-joke - the so-called 'kisses to the past'. This doesn't normally cause a problem unless it's overdone and even the fan watching feels bombarded (so who knows how someone in the audience who isn't aware of the meaning of these references must feel). The worst example that comes to mind is the start of the Paul McGann TV movie which crams the Master, Daleks, Skaro, Time Lords, the concept of the regeneration and its limits into the first two minutes of the pre-credits sequence. The Name of the Doctor - already laden with a lot of old clips - also contains tiny references to obscure characters like Solomon the Trader or the Valeyard.

Another common approach is the sequel, of course, but a variant specific to Doctor Who is the story cobbled together from bits and bobs that have happened - or just been mentioned - in other stories. As it's a time travel show, it can go back and revisit events from different perspectives, or go back further and do a prequel. The Great Intelligence as featured in the Name of the Doctor is a villain from a couple of 1960s Patrick Troughton stories, who recently had got its own origin story in The Snowmen. The best / worst example of this type is probably 1985 Colin Baker tale Attack of the Cybermen that fashions its plot from a handful of moments or asides from 1960s Cybermen stories including that The Tenth Planet, the first ever Cyberman story, is set in 1986, twenty years on from its broadcast. Attack was shown and set the year before with the shiny Cybs trying to avert the destruction of their home planet from taking place as depicted in The Tenth Planet (it sounds better than it is, if you haven't seen it!). You didn't necessarily have to have seen that story, or The Invasion or The Tomb of the Cybermen which were also inspirations, but it might have seemed needlessly detailed and convoluted if you hadn't.

Attack also fits another common story type: bringing old things back only to get them wrong. The Cybermen in the sewers and tombs in Attack of the Cybermen are presumably the same ones from those 1960s stories. So, why do they look nothing like them but instead look exactly like the 1980s models? If the classic alien monster you're bringing back doesn't look or act the same, is there very much point in calling it a 'Silurian' or whatever? It's great that previous TARDIS stops Spiridon and Metebelis 3 are namechecked in more recent stories, but if they're going to be pronounced wrong, it undercuts it a bit. Ultimately, the common denominator of all the failures is that the focus of the story is something that it's unlikely anyone would care about. I mean, was anybody ever, even the most die-hard fan, calling out in 2012 or 2013 for a rematch with the Great Intelligence (but without the iconic Yeti creatures that it was linked with in the 1960s)? I don't think so. The bits of The Name of the Doctor that work (like River and the Doctor saying goodbye) are where we care. In other words, what I've found out is that mythology = continuity + emotion.   

In Summary:

Superficially entertaining; but, for something with so much going on, nothing much really happens.