It’s New Years Day, 2010, and the Russell T. Davies era of Doctor Who has come to an end, bringing with it the demise of the Tenth Doctor. As an episode, The End of Time was like a microcosm of the Davies era – epic, clever but sloppy, overblown but with its heart in the right place, and buoyed by the occasional moment of true brilliance. There are a lot of things I could say about the episode as a whole, both good (the fact that they remembered to keep a bit of the old goofy adventure spirit and didn’t turn the whole thing into a turgid dirge, which must have been tempting) and bad (Donna’s involvement was a complete waste), but in the end, the episode as a whole isn’t the point (and, as a whole, it was pretty middle-of-the-road anyway). The regeneration is the point – and as it turns out, the Doctor’s death embodies some of the best and the worst aspects of Davies’ writing.
In the Confidential for this episode, Davies said that he always envisioned this end for the Tenth Doctor, at least in rough terms. The idea was to play up the impending death and make it look like the Doctor would sacrifice his life in order to save the Earth/Universe/Reality/etc, then turn it around by having him survive the tremendous confrontation and die for a much less epic reason – to save the life of a single person. I think this was an excellent choice, in that it both plays off of the character arc of this incarnation of the Doctor, who tended to have an awkwardly messianic air about him and had been turning increasingly megalomaniacal over the past year, and also plays off of viewer expectations from five years of excessively epic series finales. The resulting moment, when the rug is pulled out from under the Doctor just as the first wave of relief washes over him, is tremendously effective, doubly so for the fact that it plays out largely without music. The subsequent tantrum also works very well, because it isn’t really a tantrum. The Doctor isn’t actually arguing or protesting anything; he knew full well that he was going to give his life to save Wilf from the moment he saw that Wilf was trapped inside the box. It’s the point that he’s been heading for through the whole story, emotionally speaking: the acceptance that he can’t control everything. The rollercoaster he’s been on (I’m going to sacrifice myself, no, wait, I’m going to live! Oh. Never mind. I’m going to sacrifice myself) has just torn him down enough that we get a peek at what’s really inside (more on that momentarily).
So the Doctor saves Wilf, takes a lethal dose of radiation, and everything is playing out marvelously from my perspective. Then the trouble starts. The Doctor’s death is slow, enough so that he has time to travel around and see all of his recent friends and companions one last time. It’s a solid idea on paper, but on screen it reeks of two of my biggest issues with Davies as a writer – over-mythologizing his characters and refusing to stop milking an emotional moment until the cow is a withered husk. Taken individually, the scenes are actually quite good. Well, some of them, anyway – the Sarah Jane scene is pretty awful, and the Martha/Mickey one is fairly blah. Taken as a whole, though, they add up to a momentum killing slog. The idea could probably have been salvaged by playing it out on a smaller scale, with fewer visits. Quality aside, the Sarah Jane scene should probably have been cut because she never really belonged to THIS Doctor, per se. Jack’s scene could go for the same reason, although he probably has a better claim for inclusion. The scene that ties back into the Human Nature 2-parter from season 3 is also fairly unimportant in the grand scheme of things, although it’s a really nice scene. All in all, it makes the most sense to stick with Martha, Donna, and Rose, the only long-term companions in the bunch. Still, at least Davies put the two weakest entries (see above) first, which got them out of the way, and he did come up with what may be the only satisfying way to have the Doctor visit Rose.
We’re not done there, though- the Doctor stumbles, ever so slowly, to the Tardis. He has a vision of Ood Sigma, who activates the soundtrack for him. At this point, I was starting to wonder if he was ever going to die, and if the end of the Tenth Doctor had been completely botched – but then came the Doctor’s final line, which was so perfectly chosen that it made up for all of (well, most of) the dilly-dallying that had gone on before. As the regeneration energy washes over him, the Doctor says,
“I don’t want to go.”
I loved this at first because I thought Davies had fooled me. The story was blatantly set up to move the Doctor from trying madly to stay alive to making peace with his fate – but it didn’t play out that way at all; he took it in a different direction that I wasn't expecting. That wasn’t it, though – the obvious arc had played itself out. This was something else, a different, more interesting wrinkle - and what made it so interesting and effective was its rather shocking degree of honesty. Looking at it from a broader standpoint, it’s a sharp contrast to the typical portrayal of the noble sacrifice or acceptance of imminent death. Usually, these portrayals (first one off the top of my head is Rachel Weisz in The Fountain) conflate acceptance with happiness. People meet their end with a beatific smile- but that’s not really what acceptance is about. Really, I think we get away with this notion because nearly the entirety of the world believes in either an afterlife or reincarnation, so people in question are probably not really facing the idea of dying, of being no more. And yes, the irony that the Doctor does actually, literally reincarnate is not lost on me. At any rate, the Doctor came to terms with his death, he faced it head on, and even had time to tie up his loose ends. It was about as good a death as one could hope for, and he was probably as prepared as he possibly could be – but at the last moment, when he could feel it happening, he was still scared. He was still sad. He still wasn’t really ready, not completely – after all, who could be? By showing that fear, by demonstrating that emotions are not absolute, Davies muddied the waters a bit, adding a bit of complexity that I don’t remember seeing portrayed before. Of course, as soon as I post this, I’ll probably remember a half-dozen examples. So let’s just say rarely portrayed.
The line was also very well chosen from the standpoint of the Tenth Doctor’s character. Moreso than any other incarnation, the Tenth has built his personality out of layers of pretense. The Ninth Doctor was similar, constantly switching from a sort of manic exuberance to angry depression, but the issues with Ten go deeper. He didn’t switch from exuberance to depression as quickly; the mask stayed on for longer. Worse still, even when the mask came off, it just revealed more layers of pretense, which is evident in the fact that no matter what “mode” he was in, the common thread was bravado and hubris. When he got angry, it was with a god-like fury (Runaway Bride, Family of Blood). When he was scared (The Impossible Planet, The Stolen Earth), or forced to admit his powerlessness (Fires of Pompeii, the first half of Waters of Mars), he lorded his fear and/or knowledge of greater powers over the lesser beings (that would be us humans) that he always had around. Deep down, I think the Tenth Doctor was the most child-like of all his incarnations, in a very literal sense. We saw a little bit of it just before he saved Wilf (told you I’d get back to it), but I think the only time we’ve ever really seen the Tenth Doctor, the only time he wasn’t performing for someone, at least a little, was in the last few moments of his life. There were a lot of things wrong with the final two episodes, but for that moment, I’m willing to forgive an awful lot.
There now. I meant for this post to be an overview of the last five years of Doctor Who, with discussion of the best and worst episodes, but then I went blathering on about the regeneration for who knows how long. The rest of this may be correspondingly briefer than I’d originally intended. We’ll start with the top ten stories from the new Doctor Who series:
10. Utopia/The Sound of Drums/Last of the Time Lords
Russell T. Davies, Season 3
Just to get it out of the way, yes, this is the story with Doctor Jesus floating across the room after everyone prays to him. And yes, I think it was a terrible way to resolve the plot – but Doctor Who is nothing if not inconsistent, and there is so much else to love about this story that it still just ekes out a spot in the top ten. Utopia is nearly flawless, Simm’s performance as the Master is great fun, the reveal of the true nature of the Toclafane is inspired, and, while the Master’s defeat is a low point for the series, his death is one of the highest points.
9. School Reunion
Toby Whithouse, Season 2
Because I love K-9, and the idea of seeing how a companion’s life turned out after leaving the Doctor was a novel one at the time. Sarah Jane’s presence brought a real sense of history (which is pretty much gone now that she’s become tied in so closely to the modern era), which helped the emotional moments affect me more than they often do. Also, this is the episode where Mickey started to become interesting.
8. Human Nature/Family of Blood
Paul Cornell, Season 3
Hey, look, it’s Daisy Steiner! And walking scarecrows! And pictures of past Doctors! And the Doctor is pretty damn scary at the end! It’s really just a good, solid story, with lots of cool little bits (see above) to make it appeal even more to me – not to mention Joan’s utterly devastating dressing down of the doctor when he asks her to travel with him, which is a high point in a strong season.
7. Waters of Mars
Russell T. Davies and Phil Ford, Thanksgiving Special
Most of this episode feels pretty standard, although it ups the creepiness well beyond the level of most episodes. It’s the last fifteen minutes that put it on this list. If you’ve seen the episode, you know what I’m talking about. If you haven’t, I’m not going to ruin it.
6. The Empty Child/The Doctor Dances
Steven Moffat, Season 1
It’s got the creepy gas-mask kid, a well-supported mystery regarding the origin of the creepy gas-mask kid, which totally plays fair with the audience, and a wonderful moment of catharsis for the Ninth Doctor at the end. All this and the introduction of Captain Jack. What’s not to like?
5. The Girl in the Fireplace
Steven Moffat, Season 2
Again with the creepy creatures, this time clock-work robots. The episode makes good use of time travel as part of the plot, rather than an excuse for a new setting, which is always a plus in my book. It’s funny, it’s scary, it’s sad - there’s a little bit of everything here. This is Doctor Who firing on all cylinders.
4. Dalek
Robert Shearman, Season 1
This was the first time we really got to see just how damaged the Doctor was (psychologically speaking) by the time war. He acts completely out of character throughout the episode, all because of the presence of a Dalek survivor. I love the scene where he goes to help the imprisoned alien, and when he realizes that it’s a Dalek, he just completely – loses – his – shit, which is fascinating to see. The resolution of the episode serves as a very fitting farewell to the Dalek race; it’s as good of a final Dalek episode as I could imagine. Too bad that isn’t what it turned out to be.
3. Gridlock
Russell T. Davies, Season 3
I give this episode a lot of credit because, along with Jaynetown from Firefly, it’s one of the few times I’ve ever been presented with a compelling argument or demonstration that religion is (or can be) a good thing. It’s also one of the most emotionally resonant episodes of the series for me.
2. Midnight
Russell T. Davies, Season 4
This is probably the scariest episode of the series, and there is nary a monster to be seen (sort of). It’s a tight little production, taking place almost entirely on one set, and really shows how strong of a writer Davies can be when he’s not threatening the entire planet with extinction or whatnot.
1. Blink
Steven Moffat, Season 3
Hey, surprise, surprise. Blink is my favorite episode. I’m not even going to say anything about it because Blink is everyone’s favorite episode, and it would just be redundant.
And, in descending order (least-bad to worst), here are the worst stories of New Who:
10. Rose (Season 1)
9. Fires of Pompeii (Season 4)
8. The Long Game (Season 1)
7. Idiot’s Lantern (Season 2)
6. The Lazarus Experiment (Season 3)
5. Aliens of London/World War III (Season 1)
4. Rise of the Cybermen/Age of Steel (Season 2)
3. Daleks in Manhattan/Evolution of the Daleks (Season 3)
2. Voyage of the Damned (Christmas Special)
1. Fear Her (Season 2)
And I think that’s as far as we’re going to take this. Farewell to Russell T. Davies, to David Tennant, to the last vestiges of Christopher Eccleston. Whatever (often perfectly valid) complaints one may have about your time on the show, no one can deny that it’s been a smashing success – and I can’t wait to see, in three months, if Steven Moffat and Matt Smith can top it.
