The End of Time

I forgot something. I live in America. It slips my mind more often than you might think. In 2008, just a few weeks after Journey's End aired, we left Cardiff and moved to Texas, swapping the centre of Who on Earth for a strange new city where it was always summer and I couldn't ever find the BBC on the dial. It took some adjustment (I'm still adjusting, five years later), but I was quite relieved that there wasn't going to be a regular series in 2009: I simply had no idea how I would be able to watch it. Although in Britain Doctor Who had been transformed from rubbish old show into all-conquering primetime smash, America was so far uninterested. When I started investigating, I found only a few hazy memories of Tom Baker on PBS, the occasional Eccleston DVD in Best Buy, and some confused souls who had accidentally seen a strange kids' show on the SyFy channel.

Luckily we went home that first Christmas so I did see The Next Doctor, and we stayed long enough that I was able to watch Matt Smith's unveiling too. And then I flew back to Texas, excited, but feeling a little bereft. But something happened over the course of 2009 and some of it must be down to me (obviously) because, feeling a bit lost without my native culture and suddenly completely unencumbered by decades of British fan-embarrassment, I started to proselytise. When talking to Americans about my homesickness, or explaining to them what was wrong with their country, I would mention Doctor Who. And slowly I started to notice a response as America began to catch up. Soon BBC America acquired the rights to the show (SyFy having not got any traction) and broadcast the Christmas special (in July, but hey), followed by Planet of the Dead. Earlier episodes appeared on Netflix and I soon found myself talking to children who loved the Doctor and, let's face it, moms who loved David Tennant. I started to see t-shirts around town emblazoned with Weeping Angels and TARDISes as America's teenagers discovered a show which, being British, weird and obscure, offered them a mother lode of purest cool. By the following Christmas the transmission delay between BBC One and BBC America had been reduced to around thirty hours; there was a sense that Doctor Who was becoming an underground phenomenon, and those in the know were buzzing with pre-regeneration excitement.

And in the first few days of January 2010, I found Radio Free Skaro. The fan podcast is one of those modern inventions, like Twitter, that will irritate many and delight others. I think it depends on the content -  I have tried other podcasts and I have found them either to be too irreverent (or not irreverent enough), or too preachy or politicised, or (worst of all) not very interesting. But RFS (Steve Schapansky, Warren Frey and Chris Burgess, three Canadians who have been serving up weekly episodes of news, interviews and comment since 2006) get it spot on. It helps that they are men about my own age, and that between them they offer a range of opinions on Doctor Who. What hooked me though, was the total shoeing they gave The End of Time when they reviewed it in January 2010.

At that point, it was what I needed to hear. I had been left slightly disgruntled by the two festive specials and anxious about whether Smith had been given the best possible start. Listening to RFS excoriate those episodes was cathartic and funny and afterwards I was still impatiently looking forward to Series Five, just as they were.

Having just watched The End of Time again, I have to admit it is better than I remembered, and probably a lot more enjoyable than we were prepared to admit at the time. I can't help but wonder if that impatience affected my viewing experience. As I've mentioned previously, thanks to a combination of factors both on and off-screen, it had come to feel like Tennant had been regenerating since The Stolen Earth. And now, watching the final story, it felt as if the Tenth Doctor's last moments were being stretched out as much as possible. Firstly, the combined running time of both episodes was over two hours, making it the longest story since 1979's The Armageddon Factor (or 1986's The Trial of a Time Lord, if you must). Secondly, even once he had been killed, the Tenth Doctor somehow managed to stagger on for another twenty minutes before he finally gave way to the new guy. I could just about cope with him hunting down Rose, Martha and Donna, but Jessica Hynes? Was it really necessary? "I don't want to go!" he says. Yes, I did get that impression, actually. If he put this off any longer he'd be tracking down Dodo Chaplet. At the time this all felt indulgent and treacle-slow but, after a year and a half, I was desperate for the new era to start.

All very uncharitable of me. Now, after nearly four years of Matt Smith, I much more relaxed about RTD taking his time over the end of Tennant (it is still indulgent though), and The End of Time has got some stunning moments, worthy of the end of an era. Sadly, some elements were terrible then, and still are today. There's a lot to get through so it's back to the time-saving bullet points.

The Terrible

• Magic. I like Harry Potter, and so does RTD. It's a subtle but definite influence on his time on Doctor Who and it peeps through in odd moments and episode titles (The Parting of the Ways anyone?). It's never more obvious than here where the Master's resurrection is - well, hang on, I'll let William explain. "This is just like when Voldemort came back," he says perspicaciously, "except Mrs Saxon is Harry." Yes, it is, isn't it? Of course Doctor Who should be full of implausible and ridiculous events that are beyond modern human comprehension, but I'd like them to at least be garnished with the fig leaf of science. The Master is brought back to life by witches with magic potions who have read magic books, and the process is almost derailed by Lucy Saxon's magic 'anti-potion'. That she happened to have handy. The only thing missing is for the Governess to say "Izzy Wizzy Let's Get Bizzy" before she starts. 
• Remember all that incredible Doctor-changing drama at the end of The Waters of Mars? I bet that will need to be addressed, eh? No, instead let's have some feeble jokes about the Doctor locking the TARDIS remotely like a car, and shagging Elizabeth I. Is this supposed to be Christmas knockabout humour? Because I've had funnier jokes inside crackers. 
• The Silver Cloak. Don't get me wrong, it's a joy to have June Whitfield in Doctor Who - she's a legend. And crikey, that's Barry from Hi-De-Hi!, hello! It's like This is Your Life. In fact I like the oldies working together as a sort of elderly Red Hand Gang, using their ancient networking skills to locate that nice young man with the spiky hair. What annoys me is that they call themselves 'The Silver Cloak', because that is a stupid thing to do. Old people, who are - despite their bum-pinching antics - really grown-up, do not give their social circles grand and mysterious names. Unless they are the Knights of Columbus or something. Okay so some old people are self-aggrandising, but Bernard Cribbins and June Whitfield are not. It is cool, poetic and rather lovely for RTD to think of them as The Silver Cloak - but it ruins it if we hear them take this title for themselves. 
• The Time Lords' escape. That whole business with the diamond and the signal... it feels like the paint is still wet on these ideas, and that the paint is covering up something rather Heath-Robinson. If it's possible to send a jewel through the Time Lock, then why not anything else? It's not as if the barrier is a physical one, like cell bars, with gaps through which it is possible to poke a tiny thing when a whole planet won't fit.
• The Master. Before I launch into this, bear in mind that there are some good things about the Master coming up in a minute. But. The problem last time was that he was presented as some sort of demented clown, like The Joker, only he fell into the Untempered Schism rather than a vat of chemicals. This is rightly toned down in this story - until he starts flying like Iron Man,  takes over all the humans, and then starts to squee and grin and bounce around like a bunch of idiots. The Master Race - it's a grand visual idea that brilliantly masks the approach of the true cliffhanger. But unfortunately it is also the biggest load of unthought-through bobbins. Everyone is the Master. Everyone on Earth has been transformed into a physical and mental copy of the most self-serving, devious, ego-maniacal villain in the Universe. So how in the name of Rassilon do they co-operate? It should be instant chaos, like being stuck in a lift full of cats. They surely should be fighting, racing off-world, each trying to trick the others, to seize control? And yet there is an obvious and boggling hierarchy to this new society. The Master accepts subservient positions, he's a lowly guard, a scientist; he mans radar consoles; thousands of him patiently stand on duty in Chinese parade grounds. If we are in a situation where The Master is happily taking orders from anyone, even himself, someone has not thought this through. As a result, it doesn't feel like a planetful of Masters at all. What we get, complete with CGI-facilitated antics, is a load of Despicable Me Minions, all with John Simm's face. 

The Alright

• Suddenly the mild anti-Americanism of World War Three and The Sound of Drums is replaced by sunny optimism. It's no secret that the election of Barack Obama was cheered to the rafters in Britain, but I'm still surprised to see that afterglow percolate through into Doctor Who. The painfully high expectations we all had in 2008 are on display here as RTD has Obama prepare to deliver a speech (on Christmas Day FFS) that will magically fix the world economy. No pressure, Mr President. 
• I can't get my head around this one. For what earthly reason are the Nobles opening their Christmas presents while standing around in the kitchen? Each to their own, of course, but is this really something people do? Tell me you sit on the sofa by the tree or I won't be able to sleep at night. 
• Having Donna in this episode could have been awful. But it's nicely done and her level of involvement feels entirely appropriate. It's masterful restraint on RTD's part and it preserves the horrible beauty of her exit in Journey's End. 
• The Mysterious Woman. Claire Bloom is very good, dignified and sad, a bit regal, and I quite like that she is a mystery... But, hang on. If she's a Time Lord, how come she's not locked inside the Time War? If she can project her way out or something to appear to Wilf, how come Rassilon can't do the same? And, if she is the Doctor's mother (and the hints are there that she might be), then this is a pretty subdued reaction from her son. Considering how much he blubbed over Rose (twice) and Jenny, he might as well be flicking v-signs at this nice old lady as he consigns her back to Time Lord hell. Hey, maybe she's Dodo? It would explain why he's not too bothered to see her go.

The Brilliant

• Cribbins. Matchless. Superlatives can't do him justice. From beginning to end he is perfect and every mood and utterance is undershot with a beautiful poignancy: funny, sad, bemused, shocked, reflective, just everything. Highlights include him reminiscing about his National Service, entering the TARDIS ("I thought it would be cleaner."), every scene with Tennant where the two old men get to talk things over, and digging out his service revolver from under the bed... Wilf is one of the best things in Doctor Who. 
• Dalton. Timothy flipping Dalton in Doctor Who. Unbelievable. And he's Rassilon? Okay then! The Time Lords in general here are a delight: entitled, privileged, sick to the core and determined to exert their will over the rest of the universe. But Dalton sets the tone - his Rassilon is completely believable, a force of nature, a man who has tamed gravity and time and refuses to face his own demise. I know I complain about excess sometimes, but there is nothing over-the-top about bringing back the Time Lords for this story. It is exactly the right thing to do and Dalton underpins it all. His narration is spellbinding, his reveal to camera, half-way through part one is electrifying, but the cliffhanger in which the Time Lords announce their return, is total heart-stopping genius. 
• The Master is greatly improved from Last of the Timelords. Simms still doesn't get the opportunity to demonstrate the devilish sophistication of his predecessors, but this is a darker and more subdued performance that does much to suggest the Master's intelligence. My favourite parts are those scenes where he gleefully lacerates the spirit of Christmas and transforms our own full bellies into an act of complicity. "That's human Christmas out there. They eat so much. All that roasting meat, cakes and red wine. Hot fat blood food. Pots, plates of meat and flesh, and grease, and juice, and baking, burnt, sticky hot skin."  
• Matt Smith. At last, it's the Eleventh Doctor! Oh, but I was so nervous after that last scene. I felt it had been handled quite badly. I think I based this idea on Tennant's first appearance at the end of The Parting of the Ways, which was utterly perfect: that final "Barcelona!" convinced the entire country that the TARDIS was in good hands. I needed these opening lines to deliver the same sting of anticipation and I didn't think it quite worked. Of course, I had no need to worry at all. 

The boys are a bit dumbstruck by all this ("it can't be put into words!" one protests), but what do they think of the Tenth Doctor now he's finally shuffled off?

"He was a very good Doctor," says William. "I liked how he was so upset and emotional, especially at the end here. And he could be deadly serious or silly and funny."

"He was funny, and he could have always been funny," adds Chris, "but it was clever how sad he was sometimes. It made him better." 

Their favourite stories are Voyage of the Damned ("or Planet of the Dead") for William and Tooth and Claw ("no, wait, The End of Time! No, I can't decide!") for Chris. But what about the Tenth Doctor's companions? Who's their favourite and who do they think worked best with him?

"Christina was my favourite," says William, "because she could take control and tell him what to do, I liked that. But Rose was best for him I think."

Rose is Christopher's favourite. "She was as clever as the Doctor, and she stayed around the longest: there was an obvious attachment. The best for him though was Donna. They were a great team."

Tennant is a great actor and he has undoubtedly taken the chance to show this during his time as the Doctor. But the tenth incarnation is too human, too accessible for my taste, although I realise this is an important reason why he was so successful with the wider audience. Both he, and RTD - who brought this show back with steely discipline, shining wit and much love - have my unending gratitude.


NEXT TIME...