Oh my goodness. I've been quiet, too quiet. Not for once, because nothing very much has been happening, but because almost everything has been happening all at the same time.
The consequences for this blog are two-fold.
1) Since everything was changing I decided that this blog should change too, and I moved it all across to a new blog, with a different design and a (hopefully) much better name.
2) But because everything was changing I never got around to actually making it visible. Or telling anyone.
So, if you all could recalibrate your browsers, update your favourites and rejig your hyperlinks, you will find that all of this, plus some new stuff, is available at appropinquabat.blogspot.com. Yes, much better isn't it. I nearly forked out for a domain and everything but, you know.
I'll change my mind again at some point, but for now that's what's happening. Or, at least, that is a tiny fraction of what's happening, but that this the totality of what's happening with regard to this blog.
Thank you.
Tuesday, 2 December 2014
Sunday, 24 August 2014
Deep Breath
Obviously, I have had nothing else going on in my life for last nine months, but now, from my slumber, my hibernation, I awake at last, and with a Deep Breath.
I'm not sure I should be writing about new Doctor Who. When I began I was revisiting old episodes, watching them again with hindsight, and that's really easy to do: the original viewing sets a benchmark, everything that has happened since provides context, and all one needs to do to have an opinion is short the differential between the two.
But now I've caught up, and that makes it harder. We don't know where this is going and all I can do is make snap judgments - and I am sure to disagree with myself in the future.
The upshot of this hand-wringing is that I am (of course) going to write about this episode now but with the proviso that these aren't my final, considered thoughts. That comes later, after the end of the season, after the end of this Doctor, or the next.
But, for now, I was thrown, initially, by the slower pace. This is part of the much-vaunted change in style we were promised by this year's fearsome publicity machine but, despite the warnings, I found myself missing the helter-skelter zinginess of the last few years. A second viewing helped enormously, and it became clear how key moments benefitted from a slower treatment. Vastra's admonishment of Clara; the Doctor's haranguing of a tramp; the restaurant reunion; Clara's eye-bulging, lung-bursting escape attempt. These scenes all enjoyed space and time that has not been available recently. But for all that, the running time is still a gargantuan seventy-six minutes and some moments beg to be cut, most obviously Clara's medical - included to honour a Blue Peter competition. A few trims elsewhere (why all the writing on the floor with the chalk?) and this episode could at least have cantered along between the slower, more significant scenes.
Wisely, given that there is so much to be done with the Doctor and Clara, Moffat serves up a simple and familiar plot. The return of the clockwork robots from the 51st century is very welcome, especially when they provide such striking visuals and visceral scares as they do here. Half-Face Man looks amazing, partly down to the astonishing effects work, and partly due to a lovely performance by Peter Ferdinando: a combination of jarring robotic movements and snarling desperation that gives way, before the end, to a touching humanity. With their penchant for body parts and an implacable indefatigability, these robots are formidable and truly scary. Inadvertently they show us what a Cyberman story is supposed to look like - especially in the wonderful moment when Clara uses logic to resist Half-Face Man's threats and make him reveal his plans.
Coleman is great throughout, and a chief beneficiary of this slower pacing that allows Clara to show more of her character than has so far been possible since The Bells of Saint John. She is rightly shocked and unnerved by the regeneration, indignant, learned and eloquent at Vastra, resourceful and brave when she tries to escape the robots, and so, so clever during her interrogation. At the end, and most importantly, she demonstrates her compassion for this strange man who has replaced her friend.
And what about this new Doctor? Well, if nothing else Capaldi and Moffat are clearly a good fit for each other ("Don't look in the mirror? It's furious!"), but there is more to his performance than just getting all the best lines. On the muddy shore of the Thames, Capaldi, distractedly rattling out his thoughts, gives us a few final hand-flapping moments of the Eleventh Doctor. In the bedroom, this has become confusion and genuine desperation, and it is this vulnerability, which comes to the fore once again at the end of the episode, that it is more interesting and surprising than the darker steeliness which we knew to expect. It's not the fury or the shell-shock that Eccleston's Doctor kept hidden away, neither is it the loneliness of Tennant, or the sudden weeping of Smith. This Doctor is keenly aware of and embarrassed by how pathetic he looks to Clara, but he absolutely needs her. He is at her mercy, waiting for her to see the man she knows inside the stranger before her.
Really, of course, he is speaking to us, asking us not to reject him. This makes it all the more surprising that Moffat brings in Matt Smith at that very moment to make the point on Capaldi's behalf. It's a very brave decision. By then, having survived the adventure and watched the Twelfth Doctor gradually assert himself, I was ready to accept him - the sudden reappearance of the old Doctor only served to make me realise how much I missed him. But, as much as it forces the audience to compare Smith and Capaldi, it does also absolutely sell the idea that they are indeed the same man, either side of a great change and, of course, it's a typical, ballsy, pull-the-rug-from-under-you moment from Steven Moffat.
The Eleventh Doctor was a wonderful fixer - he refused to accept any defeat, any reverse. He rebooted the Universe and restored Amy's family, he repeatedly saved her marriage with Rory, he reached back into his own past to save River Song, and even to circumvent the destruction of Gallifrey. Now we see his last act was to fix his own future and, anticipating Clara's disappointment, save her and himself from this rejection. Neither we nor Clara can resist him.
More than anything else though, this episode is full of hints and glimpses of what this Doctor has ahead of him. Watching him rebuild himself is fun, but I want to see this new persona in action and to learn the answers to the questions raised here: why did he choose this face? Did Half-Face Man jump, or was he pushed? And who is the, er, eccentric character played by Michelle Gomez in full Sue White mode?
Luckily we have eleven weeks in which to answer these questions, to get used to Capaldi's Doctor and for this new era to bed down and become the new normal. And after all that, we can look back at Deep Breath and, perhaps, see it properly for the first time.
I'm not sure I should be writing about new Doctor Who. When I began I was revisiting old episodes, watching them again with hindsight, and that's really easy to do: the original viewing sets a benchmark, everything that has happened since provides context, and all one needs to do to have an opinion is short the differential between the two.
But now I've caught up, and that makes it harder. We don't know where this is going and all I can do is make snap judgments - and I am sure to disagree with myself in the future.
The upshot of this hand-wringing is that I am (of course) going to write about this episode now but with the proviso that these aren't my final, considered thoughts. That comes later, after the end of the season, after the end of this Doctor, or the next.
But, for now, I was thrown, initially, by the slower pace. This is part of the much-vaunted change in style we were promised by this year's fearsome publicity machine but, despite the warnings, I found myself missing the helter-skelter zinginess of the last few years. A second viewing helped enormously, and it became clear how key moments benefitted from a slower treatment. Vastra's admonishment of Clara; the Doctor's haranguing of a tramp; the restaurant reunion; Clara's eye-bulging, lung-bursting escape attempt. These scenes all enjoyed space and time that has not been available recently. But for all that, the running time is still a gargantuan seventy-six minutes and some moments beg to be cut, most obviously Clara's medical - included to honour a Blue Peter competition. A few trims elsewhere (why all the writing on the floor with the chalk?) and this episode could at least have cantered along between the slower, more significant scenes.
Wisely, given that there is so much to be done with the Doctor and Clara, Moffat serves up a simple and familiar plot. The return of the clockwork robots from the 51st century is very welcome, especially when they provide such striking visuals and visceral scares as they do here. Half-Face Man looks amazing, partly down to the astonishing effects work, and partly due to a lovely performance by Peter Ferdinando: a combination of jarring robotic movements and snarling desperation that gives way, before the end, to a touching humanity. With their penchant for body parts and an implacable indefatigability, these robots are formidable and truly scary. Inadvertently they show us what a Cyberman story is supposed to look like - especially in the wonderful moment when Clara uses logic to resist Half-Face Man's threats and make him reveal his plans.
Coleman is great throughout, and a chief beneficiary of this slower pacing that allows Clara to show more of her character than has so far been possible since The Bells of Saint John. She is rightly shocked and unnerved by the regeneration, indignant, learned and eloquent at Vastra, resourceful and brave when she tries to escape the robots, and so, so clever during her interrogation. At the end, and most importantly, she demonstrates her compassion for this strange man who has replaced her friend.
And what about this new Doctor? Well, if nothing else Capaldi and Moffat are clearly a good fit for each other ("Don't look in the mirror? It's furious!"), but there is more to his performance than just getting all the best lines. On the muddy shore of the Thames, Capaldi, distractedly rattling out his thoughts, gives us a few final hand-flapping moments of the Eleventh Doctor. In the bedroom, this has become confusion and genuine desperation, and it is this vulnerability, which comes to the fore once again at the end of the episode, that it is more interesting and surprising than the darker steeliness which we knew to expect. It's not the fury or the shell-shock that Eccleston's Doctor kept hidden away, neither is it the loneliness of Tennant, or the sudden weeping of Smith. This Doctor is keenly aware of and embarrassed by how pathetic he looks to Clara, but he absolutely needs her. He is at her mercy, waiting for her to see the man she knows inside the stranger before her.
Really, of course, he is speaking to us, asking us not to reject him. This makes it all the more surprising that Moffat brings in Matt Smith at that very moment to make the point on Capaldi's behalf. It's a very brave decision. By then, having survived the adventure and watched the Twelfth Doctor gradually assert himself, I was ready to accept him - the sudden reappearance of the old Doctor only served to make me realise how much I missed him. But, as much as it forces the audience to compare Smith and Capaldi, it does also absolutely sell the idea that they are indeed the same man, either side of a great change and, of course, it's a typical, ballsy, pull-the-rug-from-under-you moment from Steven Moffat.
The Eleventh Doctor was a wonderful fixer - he refused to accept any defeat, any reverse. He rebooted the Universe and restored Amy's family, he repeatedly saved her marriage with Rory, he reached back into his own past to save River Song, and even to circumvent the destruction of Gallifrey. Now we see his last act was to fix his own future and, anticipating Clara's disappointment, save her and himself from this rejection. Neither we nor Clara can resist him.
More than anything else though, this episode is full of hints and glimpses of what this Doctor has ahead of him. Watching him rebuild himself is fun, but I want to see this new persona in action and to learn the answers to the questions raised here: why did he choose this face? Did Half-Face Man jump, or was he pushed? And who is the, er, eccentric character played by Michelle Gomez in full Sue White mode?
Luckily we have eleven weeks in which to answer these questions, to get used to Capaldi's Doctor and for this new era to bed down and become the new normal. And after all that, we can look back at Deep Breath and, perhaps, see it properly for the first time.
Monday, 6 January 2014
The Time of the Doctor
I'm not moaning about the beneficence of the Time Lords, or the eventual regeneration - no, the critical moment turns up about half-way through and it passes without any fanfare, despite the fact that it is possibly the most extraordinary thing to happen in Doctor Who since he first regenerated, possibly since he abandoned Susan.
The Doctor stops.
For as long as we have known him, the Doctor has been running. Running from the Time Lords, running around the Universe, running from his responsibilities. When the Time Lords caught him, they punished him by fixing him in place, pinning him to Earth, and it infuriated him. The thought of resuming his presidency made the Fifth Doctor wince. The Tenth Doctor ran from his own demise and then railed and fumed when it finally knocked.
Then here, on Trenzalore, in his last life (more on that later), he finds himself in an unwinnable situation. A stalemate that cannot be broken, only preserved. A peace that can only be enforced if he gives up his travels, his lifestyle, his freedom - and stays still for the rest of this life.
It's a big moment, no? And although I'm not sure I'd want the wailing and gnashing of teeth we saw from Tennant in The End of Time, I do think it could have, and should have, sat a little more heavily on the Eleventh Doctor. As it happens on screen, it's not even clear that he has actively made such a decision. It might be that he just reacts impulsively, and that he only stays because the TARDIS doesn't promptly return from dropping off Clara.
Either way, I think the story suffers from not clearly showing us the Doctor's resolve at that moment: to stay no matter what. We need to see that he knows what he is giving up, even if it is done willingly. Without it, especially on a first viewing, the episode seems to drifts into unfamiliar territory after that point, with voice-overs filling in great swathes of lost time, and the youthful Eleventh Doctor disappearing from the story. Eventually, once Clara comes back, we get a scene where some of this is explained - but it would have been better to have known where we were going, rather than be told where we had arrived.
The same is true of the revelation (during that same conversation) that the Doctor is in his final body. I remember that when The Curse of Fatal Death aired some silly fans complained that this it was part of a BBC conspiracy to finally kill off Doctor Who by using up all his future regenerations in one go. I never had any truck with the more paranoid elements of fandom, but it is head-spinning to have whizzed from a tally of ten regenerations to twelve, and now thirteen, all within six months. There is no sense in which Doctor Who is an exhaustible resource, but I do think that I was rather looking forward to having a Thirteenth Doctor that threatened to be the last. It would have been interesting and new to see him affected by a sense of his own mortality, and it would have leant some extra drama to events building up to his eventual (and inevitable) regeneration.
But here again, we don't get to savour the moment. Thanks to the War Doctor and Tennant2, it turns out that we have already had our twelfth regeneration and that the Eleventh Doctor has been mortal all this time. I wish we had known (it would certainly have added weight to The Impossible Astronaut, if nothing else) but instead we have only twenty minutes or so to adjust to the idea before the whole matter is resolved.
I sympathise with the fannish fear that the notion of a 'last' Doctor is a precarious one - dangerous rapids that should be navigated as quickly as possible - but Moffat knows the show has never been more secure than it is now. The hurried culmination of the regeneration cycle has come about more as an accident of scheduling and casting as anything else: the co-incidence of the Fiftieth barrelling straight into a Christmas Special on the one hand, and the unwillingness of Eccleston to return for the anniversary coupled with Smith's decision to leave on the other.
Anyway, once again I have spent a great deal of time describing a small quibble. I have others that can be dealt with more quickly: I don't like using monsters piecemeal like this - it's useful shorthand, but their threat and their significance is reduced as a result. The long-promised answers we got weren't so much loose threads tied up as dead-ends closed off in so much that the answers didn't reveal but merely made the questions redundant. And although the latest explanations of The Crack and the Oldest Question make sense, they do have a whiff of reinvention about them.
But again, these are tiny quibbles and although it could have been even better, this was still a very enjoyable story and full of things to love. The opening ten minutes was completely manic, but chock full of some great jokes; Handles was a lovely addition and a K9 substitute with all of the advantages and none of the problems. Smith doesn't disappoint (has he ever?) and Coleman continues to shine as Clara, a companion who gets better and better as time goes on. Even if she was dangerously peripheral for some of this story, her intervention was crucial (as in The Day of the Doctor) and her reaction to the regeneration, when it came, was fantastic: for the first time in the new series (alright, unless you count Journey's End), the Doctor's demise was witnessed by someone who knew what was happening. Her fear and anxiety were thrillingly discomforting.
And the end itself was lovely: the bow tie discarded, tumbling to the floor; Amy's apparition, benevolent and cathartic... And then, in an instant, he was gone and a new man stood in his place. That was a great trick. It feels right to try and wrongfoot an audience that might think it knows the score. Capaldi doesn't have much opportunity to show his credentials (on first viewing I hankered for him to appear in the bell tower and finish the job that the old Doctor had left behind..), but then that's not the point.
The point is that shimmering blink of an eye when everything changes, when everything is up for grabs and for once, as the TARDIS careers off through the Universe, the question is not where next, but Who?
I can't wait to find out.
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