Thursday, 19 September 2013

Utopia

It's easy and lazy to assume that RTD's stories are all heart and Moffat's are all brains. Utopia is proof that RTD can scheme, that his plots can dazzle, and that he can serve up some of the most wonderful, shocking moments in all of Doctor Who.

The disguised return of the Master is a terribly clever trick. Firstly, the misdirection, which, like the previous year, worked because we, the audience, assumed we knew how things were going to play out. We knew that this year's arc was Saxon and that all the clues, all the way back to Love & Monsters, had been firmly anchored to modern day Britain. And, most convincingly of all, we knew the rhythm of the series, that all would be revealed in the climactic two-parter; whatever Utopia had in store, it was languishing in the same slot as Boom Town and Fear Her.

Secondly, the seeds of this story had been sown with much subtlety: Human Nature had patiently explained how a Time Lord might hide from the universe by becoming a human, their Gallifreyan consciousness secured away inside a fob watch. This should have been blatant, especially since we expected the Master to turn up eventually, but no one batted an eyelid, it aroused no suspicions, because it was an adaptation of an existing Doctor Who book. In other words, as soon as the fob watch was spotted in Utopia, a collective gasp could be heard rising across the country (including people who, like my wife, assumed Yana must be a future Doctor) as the nation's gobs were truly smacked. The last fifteen minutes of the episode became a helter-skelter, thrilling us all the way, down to the grim finish.

Nothing else about Utopia really matters. There's a nicely evoked sense of desperation and decay about the end of the universe, a chill entropic inevitability, but really who cares? Creet, the Futurekind, the abandoned collectives of Malcassairo, they're all insubstantial, forgettable - a candyfloss environment spun together by RTD to hide the Master, just as Yana is a construct of the Chameleon Arch. That's not to say that these elements aren't enjoyable and, in the case of the Futurekind, this is probably as good a depiction of post-apocalyptic panto cannibals as Doctor Who will ever manage.

The Doctor/Jack scenes are lots of fun. This Doctor has an overlooked capacity for dead-eyed sang froid, and the way in which he holds Jack at arms length here is very interesting, nicely juxtaposed with his more frenzied reaction to the Master later on. Martha is excellent again. The early scenes getting to know Jack, her camaraderie with Chantho, that wonderful reaction when she spots Yana's watch, even those odd few lines with Creet - it's another spot-on performance from Freema Agyeman and another demonstration of Martha's strengths as a companion.

I have one tiny complaint. Although the Face of Boe's warning was appropriately mysterious and doom-laden in Gridlock, it's use here - the final nail of the Master's return hammered home - is anti-climactic: acrostics are rarely asked to support such dramatic weight. It raises odd questions too; did the Master's TARDIS choose the name Yana in order to taunt the Doctor? Or was the Face of Boe just amusing himself by constructing the acronym instead of simply saying "The Master is alive."? Perhaps it is just total coincidence that the warning spelt out the Master's nom de guerre temporel? Whatever the answers, it irritates. An insignificantly small flaw, but it is such an important moment in the episode. Luckily, so much else is happening at that point, that it is possible just to be swept along.

The most shiningly brilliant thing about Utopia is Derek Jacobi. No surprise there perhaps, but it must be said nonetheless. Professor Yana is so adorable, such a lovely old man, doing what he can at the end of the universe, resisting the sourness and regrets of a lifetime spent adrift. As he stares blankly at his broken watch we feel his terrible sadness. But then, the transformation, the moment when he turns around and we see that Yana no longer exists - he has been replaced by the Master. It's spine-chilling. Jacobi does it with a single look, straight at the camera, suddenly utterly malevolent. It is, so far, the greatest single moment in this run of Doctor Who: there is so much promise, so much potential in that glare! In the few scenes that follow the Master is perfectly distilled: arrogant, murderous, slightly flamboyant and with a patrician air. And then, just like the Master of old, he suddenly comes a cropper, betrayed by his erstwhile alien ally - and regenerates! The novelty of that hasn't worn off yet, not for us anyway. Any regeneration is a big event; exhilarating for the audience, balanced on the edge of possibility, eagerly waiting for the new face to resolve itself...

Unfortunately, this is where Utopia's brilliance begins to dwindle. The cliffhanger is still excellent, almost torturous for my boys to endure, but as soon as John Simm replaces Jacobi things begin to go downhill. First time through I told myself that the new Master's hyperactivity probably wouldn't be a problem - it would be a post-regenerative aberration, and his chilled, urbane demeanour would return in the next episode. But now I know that it doesn't and that the Master will be an unhinged loon from now on.

Nevermind. The boys were transfixed by all this - Utopia is a nerd nirvana, awash with callbacks and constantly throwing things forward. They loved all that: the old Master's voices, the talk of Rose, of Torchwood; looking forwards, they are eagerly anticipating not only the resolution of the Saxon arc, but the hand-in-a-jar pay-off and everything after that. And most of all they loved the way in which the Master returned. "Nine out of ten! They made it really impressive," said Chris, "so that you realise the Master is a really big deal."

Spot on again. But, unfortunately, this is exactly why the next two episodes feel like such a let down.


NEXT TIME...

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