Plot:
Christmas Eve, 1851. The Doctor materialises in London in the middle of a Christmas Card picture of Victorians in the snow. The peace and goodwill doesn't last long, though: hearing a scream, he runs off to help, but is presented with another Doctor, accompanied by companion Rosita, already on the scene. They have been investigating some Cybermen, who are engaged in a diabolical plot involving Mercy Hartigan, matron of the local workhouse, and her young charges. The Cybermen have also converted animals into Cybershades, crude versions who look like Cybermen in cheap gorilla costumes and are best forgotten about. Our Doctor assumes this other to be a future version of himself, but it turns out he's merely an ordinary schmoe, Jackson Lake, whose accidental encounter with Cyberman data-stamp technology uploaded the history of the Doctor into his brain.
Context:
I'll admit to a bit of cheating here. This title did come up randomly, but a little while ago. Once it was confirmed beyond any doubt that Jodie Whittaker's eleventh episode was not going to be broadcast until 2019, I held it back. It is has proved nice to have a Christmas story to blog towards the end of each year. It hasn't really been planned that way, though; the Xmas episodes in the last couple of years just happened to have extra significance. I decided to blog the superhero one as it was the only story broadcast that year (a quality it will share with 'Resolution', Jodie's New Year's story, so I'll likely be blogging that one immediately too). And Twice Upon a Time was the final story for Capaldi's Doctor. Had Whittaker been given her own December 25th story, I'd have had to write it up swiftly too as it would have been her first festive outing. As that wasn't to be (still miffed, but never mind), revisiting this festive smash from a decade ago was the next best thing. Ten years on, I watched this with my kids (boys of 12 and 9, girl of 6) on a Saturday in December from the upscaled version on the post series 4 specials Blu-ray box-set. Middle child said at about 10 minutes in "He's not really the Doctor is he?" but I stayed quiet. Eldest child said that the effect of Hartigan's eyes going inky black when she is plugged into the Cyber-King was "creepy", which is high praise indeed from him. After watching, their one word summary of how they found the story was (in decreasing order of age): "good", "good" and "scary".
First-time round:
First-time round:
Reaction
During Russell T Davies' time as Doctor Who showrunner, he came in for lots of criticism - and probably still does in some uncharted dark corners online - that his plot structures, particularly at story endings, sacrificed too much real world logic to be credible. Almost every time I saw this in a review or a message board exchange, I didn't agree, and felt that the point had been missed. Davies deliberately and consistently wrote a heightened and slightly stylised version of reality, but anchored it within credibility by using pin-point accuracy regarding character and emotion. As long as the value change of a character - from cowardice to bravery, from duty to greed, from selfishness to self sacrifice (and so on) - worked correctly then it didn't matter so much whether real life details like how a missile happened to already be aimed at 10 Downing Street, or why exactly a telepathic network was functioning like that, or how sonar was supposed to work in space (and so on) were explained. People might think I'm letting him off a little, but I contend that at the level at which his scripts were operating (and were intended to operate) they were correct, and were very successful with audiences. Why shouldn't he be able to carry on as he was, if it was working?
There's a 'but' coming, of course. The one story above all others for me where Davies fails on his own terms is The Next Doctor. It was still massively successful, which demonstrates that plotting is not the be all and end all - great performances and mostly great visuals get it over the line. The stand out is the funeral scene, with Hartigan arriving with her shocking red dress and umbrella, followed shortly by the majestic scenes of the Cybermen marching through the snowstorm and creating havoc. Dervla Kirwan and David Morrissey are exceedingly good; they're never less than perfect in anything they're ever in, so it was safe casting, but Morrissey will break your heart, and Kirwan's complex damaged villain is a joy to watch. Tennant, in the pomp of his imperial phase, matches them too.
But, but but: Jackson's story isn't emotionally concluded because Jackson doesn't rescue his own son. So what, you may say? The Doctor's the hero, and he does the rescuing. But Jackson's not only - sort of - the Doctor too, he's also the boy's Dad. His hesitation at going to rescue his son means that his inner bravery, brought out by the accident of becoming the Doctor temporarily, fails him at the point of crisis of his subplot. At this crucial moment, he lets someone else take control. It's a massive misstep to my mind. Think of how the plot has been shaped: Jackson as the Doctor dreams of flying away in his 'TARDIS', but he can't - there's something keeping him in London, something missing that he can't quite remember. The action of Christmas Eve when he bumps into the real Doctor brings back his memory. So what happens next? He should use the bravery he's gained and rescue his son and make himself whole again (maybe the Doctor is blocked or incapacitated, putting the pressure on him to be the only one who can step up).
Please note: I come not to bury the Next Doctor; I like this story very much. But I don't love it, and it's frustrating that it's so close to being perfect. Once Jackson has his son, the Doctor can - I'd go as far as to say he should - offer that Jackson rides alongside him in the hot-air balloon to help stop the Cyber-King, and Jackson can - I'd go as far as to say he should - refuse. He needs to be with his son, and the dreams he had of being the Doctor flying off in the TARDIS are no longer important. Then, the rest of the action plays out as it already does - the real Doctor, the lonely God with no family to anchor him - has to save the day. It would be about four lines of script to fix it. Bah! Davies himself was never happy with a different aspect of the end: the big magic wand device that the Doctor finds that blasts the Cyber-King. He was desperately trying to find a way to avoid the history-bending conclusion of a massive machine smashing up the better part of London. It only came to him later that it should be a look or comment exchanged between the Doctor and Hartigan at the climax, which inspires her to make good, and pilot the Cyber-King into the void, saving London and partially redeeming herself. No script is ever perfect, but by golly the version of The Next Doctor in my imagination, with those two amendments made, is as close as can be.
There's a 'but' coming, of course. The one story above all others for me where Davies fails on his own terms is The Next Doctor. It was still massively successful, which demonstrates that plotting is not the be all and end all - great performances and mostly great visuals get it over the line. The stand out is the funeral scene, with Hartigan arriving with her shocking red dress and umbrella, followed shortly by the majestic scenes of the Cybermen marching through the snowstorm and creating havoc. Dervla Kirwan and David Morrissey are exceedingly good; they're never less than perfect in anything they're ever in, so it was safe casting, but Morrissey will break your heart, and Kirwan's complex damaged villain is a joy to watch. Tennant, in the pomp of his imperial phase, matches them too.But, but but: Jackson's story isn't emotionally concluded because Jackson doesn't rescue his own son. So what, you may say? The Doctor's the hero, and he does the rescuing. But Jackson's not only - sort of - the Doctor too, he's also the boy's Dad. His hesitation at going to rescue his son means that his inner bravery, brought out by the accident of becoming the Doctor temporarily, fails him at the point of crisis of his subplot. At this crucial moment, he lets someone else take control. It's a massive misstep to my mind. Think of how the plot has been shaped: Jackson as the Doctor dreams of flying away in his 'TARDIS', but he can't - there's something keeping him in London, something missing that he can't quite remember. The action of Christmas Eve when he bumps into the real Doctor brings back his memory. So what happens next? He should use the bravery he's gained and rescue his son and make himself whole again (maybe the Doctor is blocked or incapacitated, putting the pressure on him to be the only one who can step up).
Please note: I come not to bury the Next Doctor; I like this story very much. But I don't love it, and it's frustrating that it's so close to being perfect. Once Jackson has his son, the Doctor can - I'd go as far as to say he should - offer that Jackson rides alongside him in the hot-air balloon to help stop the Cyber-King, and Jackson can - I'd go as far as to say he should - refuse. He needs to be with his son, and the dreams he had of being the Doctor flying off in the TARDIS are no longer important. Then, the rest of the action plays out as it already does - the real Doctor, the lonely God with no family to anchor him - has to save the day. It would be about four lines of script to fix it. Bah! Davies himself was never happy with a different aspect of the end: the big magic wand device that the Doctor finds that blasts the Cyber-King. He was desperately trying to find a way to avoid the history-bending conclusion of a massive machine smashing up the better part of London. It only came to him later that it should be a look or comment exchanged between the Doctor and Hartigan at the climax, which inspires her to make good, and pilot the Cyber-King into the void, saving London and partially redeeming herself. No script is ever perfect, but by golly the version of The Next Doctor in my imagination, with those two amendments made, is as close as can be.Connectivity:
Deeper Thoughts:
In the New Old Fashioned Way. Would the Doctor Who Christmas special exist without Charles Dickens? Some people call him the man who invented Christmas as a whole, let alone just the Christmas special, and he certainly did popularise - and in some cases possibly invent - some of what we now think of as the traditional essence of Yuletide. As well as this, he popularised the serialisation of long texts in regular instalments (an ancestor of serial TV) with the double number to finish off a story (and therefore the season finale as we know it) with everything subsequently gathered up and published as one long book (or box set, in new money). Plus, his Christmas books published from 1843 to 1848, in particular the first, A Christmas Carol, were certainly innovative and forever associated him with this festive time of year. No wonder he had a starring role in the first Christmas themed story of the 21st Century, and inspired the very Dickensian Christmas Doctor Who story that is The Next Doctor.
Dickens looms large in my imagination at Christmas. His novels go with Yuletide like sage goes with onion, and I always try to have one of his books on the go at this time of year. This blog is not the only long-standing crazy completionist endeavour which which I am challenging myself. In December 2003, after reading The Pickwick Papers and loving it, I decided I would read all the novels of Charles Dickens. I wasn't in any particular hurry, but did snap up all the books pretty early on, just in case Penguin changed the design of their Classics range (I am a Doctor Who fan, I can't have inconsistent spines facing out at me from a shelf). Slowly, over the years and to date, at Christmas and sometimes at other times in the year, I have read them one by one. Obviously, I read a lot of things in between, but every Dickens novel is a piece of rare treasure, and it's a comfort to be reading one rather than not.
I didn't tackle them in chronological order, but instead dotted around randomly (natch); but, I always planned that Our Mutual Friend would be the last one I read, completing the challenge. Partly, this was inspired by the character of Desmond in Lost, who intended it to be the last book he ever read. Partly, it was because it was Dickens' last completed novel. Partly, it was because I knew it would end the challenge on a high, based on having enjoyed the Paul McGann-starring BBC adaptation in the 1990s (which also featured a stand-out performance from David Morrissey as Bradley Headstone). Having finished all the others, with the latest being Dombey and Son a couple of years ago and a reread of Pickwick after that, I am now a dozen chapters into Our Mutual Friend. It's as good as I expected so far. If anyone is thinking about starting their own challenge, I'd recommend Great Expectations, Bleak House or David Copperfield (which will soon have a new big screen version starring one Peter Capaldi) as likely starters, but they're all good.
Once I've finished this 15 year mission, I won't need another necessarily. I have at least 180 Doctor Who stories more to cover for this blog for a start (crikey, they've made a lot). But I do like a challenge, and a ritual. Another thing I've started doing in the last couple of years is a reverse advent calendar, which you could think is an inarguable good, a little bit of Christmas charity. But it makes me uneasy. This has been exacerbated by my seeing recent awful photo-ops popping up on social media of Conservative politicians at the openings of new food banks. This smacks to me rather of arsonists holding grand openings for their fires. Dickens' characters of Ignorance and Want, two emaciated children, often dropped from adaptations of A Christmas Carol, represent two Victorian values that we should have eradicated by now. I feel sure, it being a consistent theme in all his works, that Dickens would feel the same shame as I do that we have not. I will of course continue to do my tiny bit, while also hoping that the day will come when none of us need to do so anymore; meanwhile, we can keep up the pressure on those politicians to amend the cruel policies that create this situation. Everyone has the right to food security, no matter what the time of year. I hope that's something to which we can all toast.
In the New Old Fashioned Way. Would the Doctor Who Christmas special exist without Charles Dickens? Some people call him the man who invented Christmas as a whole, let alone just the Christmas special, and he certainly did popularise - and in some cases possibly invent - some of what we now think of as the traditional essence of Yuletide. As well as this, he popularised the serialisation of long texts in regular instalments (an ancestor of serial TV) with the double number to finish off a story (and therefore the season finale as we know it) with everything subsequently gathered up and published as one long book (or box set, in new money). Plus, his Christmas books published from 1843 to 1848, in particular the first, A Christmas Carol, were certainly innovative and forever associated him with this festive time of year. No wonder he had a starring role in the first Christmas themed story of the 21st Century, and inspired the very Dickensian Christmas Doctor Who story that is The Next Doctor.
Dickens looms large in my imagination at Christmas. His novels go with Yuletide like sage goes with onion, and I always try to have one of his books on the go at this time of year. This blog is not the only long-standing crazy completionist endeavour which which I am challenging myself. In December 2003, after reading The Pickwick Papers and loving it, I decided I would read all the novels of Charles Dickens. I wasn't in any particular hurry, but did snap up all the books pretty early on, just in case Penguin changed the design of their Classics range (I am a Doctor Who fan, I can't have inconsistent spines facing out at me from a shelf). Slowly, over the years and to date, at Christmas and sometimes at other times in the year, I have read them one by one. Obviously, I read a lot of things in between, but every Dickens novel is a piece of rare treasure, and it's a comfort to be reading one rather than not.I didn't tackle them in chronological order, but instead dotted around randomly (natch); but, I always planned that Our Mutual Friend would be the last one I read, completing the challenge. Partly, this was inspired by the character of Desmond in Lost, who intended it to be the last book he ever read. Partly, it was because it was Dickens' last completed novel. Partly, it was because I knew it would end the challenge on a high, based on having enjoyed the Paul McGann-starring BBC adaptation in the 1990s (which also featured a stand-out performance from David Morrissey as Bradley Headstone). Having finished all the others, with the latest being Dombey and Son a couple of years ago and a reread of Pickwick after that, I am now a dozen chapters into Our Mutual Friend. It's as good as I expected so far. If anyone is thinking about starting their own challenge, I'd recommend Great Expectations, Bleak House or David Copperfield (which will soon have a new big screen version starring one Peter Capaldi) as likely starters, but they're all good.
Once I've finished this 15 year mission, I won't need another necessarily. I have at least 180 Doctor Who stories more to cover for this blog for a start (crikey, they've made a lot). But I do like a challenge, and a ritual. Another thing I've started doing in the last couple of years is a reverse advent calendar, which you could think is an inarguable good, a little bit of Christmas charity. But it makes me uneasy. This has been exacerbated by my seeing recent awful photo-ops popping up on social media of Conservative politicians at the openings of new food banks. This smacks to me rather of arsonists holding grand openings for their fires. Dickens' characters of Ignorance and Want, two emaciated children, often dropped from adaptations of A Christmas Carol, represent two Victorian values that we should have eradicated by now. I feel sure, it being a consistent theme in all his works, that Dickens would feel the same shame as I do that we have not. I will of course continue to do my tiny bit, while also hoping that the day will come when none of us need to do so anymore; meanwhile, we can keep up the pressure on those politicians to amend the cruel policies that create this situation. Everyone has the right to food security, no matter what the time of year. I hope that's something to which we can all toast.In Summary:
And so, as William Hartnell observed, a Happy Christmas to all of you at home!
No comments:
Post a Comment