Girl meets Boy meets Weird Disco Hall meets SPAAAACE
And back to Who. When we left off, the Doctor and Amy had escaped from the Weeping Angels in the Maze of the Dead, and realized that the crack in time wasn't just a one-off; now it's time to get Amy 'sorted out' for her suddenly very important wedding day, which means big fish, lizard people and a flat that shouldn't exist. Geronimo!
The Vampires of Venice (Series 31, Story 212)
"Blimey, fish from space have never seemed so...buxom!"
Perhaps unintentionally, the pre-titles sequence for Vampires is a great summary/warning for the following 42 minutes, with a very handsome-looking but dry introduction to the villains of the piece and a fun interlude at the stag party of Rory (Arthur Darvill) which seem totally unconnected. And so it goes for the rest of the story; the material built around Rory's introduction to the TARDIS lifestyle and his deteriorating relationship with Amy is great character work and full of laughs, whereas the more traditionally 'Doctor Who' business of the Doctor cropping up in a period location where aliens are at work and throwing a spanner in their plans is kinda bland, and there's not a lot that links the two threads. Amy and Rory could've been anywhere in this episode and their interactions would've been the same.
This is Arthur Darvill's first appearance since Eleventh Hour and he's immediately a delight, hitting all the right sourpuss notes without coming off like an arse, and he bounces off the more fiery Gillan brilliantly. The Doctor is shown in an interesting light too; he's self-aware enough to realize the damage he and his box of wonders are doing to Amy and Rory's relationship, but in the process of trying to help he's actually emasculating Rory by continuing to be the Doctor in all his off-kilter, swaggering, world-saving glory. There's also a quick exchange between the Doctor and Rory that does highlight one of the Doc's less comforting qualities ("...you make people want to impress you"), but feels odd coming from someone who's known the Doctor for less than an hour, total. On the villains' side, Helen McCrory is plainly having fun playing Rosanna, but the script doesn't quite match up to her. Her face-to-face with the Doc is pretty great, though.
The true narrative concerning the Saturnynes is deeply bland stuff about terraforming and colonisation we've seen from a hundred other alien-invasion Who stories, and the attempts to make the aliens work as fish and still mesh with the 'rules' of classic vampires are clunky (if they're so used to deep-sea environments that bright light can kill them, how are they living comfortably in a shallow canal...?). Plus, Guido might as well be wearing a t-shirt that says 'will die a noble death' from his first scene onwards, and never grows to feel like a character you'll miss. Nevertheless, Vampires still succeeds, largely on the back of its comedy quotient. It really is one of the funniest episodes since the reboot, and Matt Smith is having a ball with it. The production team also moved outside their usual boundaries for more expensive location shooting than usual, so Venice actually looks like Venice (though it wasn't) and coupled with the lovely costume designs, it's a gorgeous story to look at. Overall a fun romp that'll fly by inoffensively so long as you don't stop and think about it too much. 7 out of 10.
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Amy's Choice (Series 31, Story 213)
"If you had any more tawdry quirks, you could open up a tawdry quirk shop!"
Sometimes with Who, I wonder if there isn't an inverted scale of story quality versus budget; the more money the production team has to throw around, the less effort the writers wind up putting in. Conversely, a relatively small episode like Amy's Choice winds up being a quiet little masterpiece. The central conceit of being stuck between a waking dream and reality without knowing which is which is old hat, but it's executed so well that complaining about it feels unwarranted.
Most of the dramatic weight comes from playing off the three leads against each other. There was an attempt in the early part of David Tennant's run to show Mickey's jealousy over the Doctor essentially stealing his girlfriend, but it never really worked, partly because Mickey was such an oaf compared to the Doc it was hard to imagine Rose ever waffling over the choice. This time around things are, well, not written by idiots, but also much better balanced, with Rory being kind of dim but lovable, and the Doc being mercurial and dangerous rather than hunkily heroic. There was already an undercurrent of competitive alpha male jousting to their interactions in Vampires of Venice but it's brought to the forefront here, stoked by Toby Jones' hilariously bitchy Dream Lord. He's such a fantastic villain that I wish he'd somehow returned in a future story, and the way his eventual reveal clicks with his treatment of all three leads is very satisfying.
Also strangely, despite the relative lack of big effects work or classic monsters, this story's quite a looker too. Upper Leadworth is filmed in a way that really emphasizes the stillness that the Doctor finds so utterly detestable; there's a coldness and emptiness to it that seems more unfriendly than even the frozen-over TARDIS console room (which is itself a nice bit of set dressing), and that the town only comes to life when the baddies go on the march and suddenly the Doctor has something to fight for is a neat little nod to Amy's views regarding her 'choice'. Note also how the baddies stop when miss Pond finally decides to just stop playing the Dream Lord's game.
It feels evil to try and spoil any more of the story for someone who hasn't yet seen it, and honestly I don't know how I could come up with a single valid complaint for this one. This is as good as Who gets. 10 out of 10.
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The Hungry Earth/Cold Blood (Series 31, Story 214)
"In future, when you talk about this, you tell people there was a chance but you were so much less than the best of humanity..."
The unquestioned nadir of series 31, The Hungry Earth is a retread of The Silurians from the Third Doctor's first series, and much like its inspiration it's far too long (despite being a good five episodes shorter) and confuses moral lecturing for drama. But just to balance things out, it finds much more new-series-relevant ways to fail too, in particular the old tendency to create two-part stories by stretching the story of a single episode to breaking point rather than simply craft enough narrative to warrant more time, and also creating the lamest cliffhanger in the entire history of the show.
About the only thing the story gets right is the character work for the leads, and even that is less due to Chris Chibnall's deathly dull script (I was sorely tempted to omit a quote altogether, but ultimately relented since that one above conveys my frustration pretty well...) than the way Moffat's ongoing arc for the group is progressed here, with *SPOILER!* Rory's untimely passing. That it happens so soon after joining the TARDIS crew somewhat blunts the impact, even without knowing he'd return in future, but the moment is sold well by Gillan and Smith and the idea of his being not just dead but erased from history is pretty ghastly to think about. Before that, we do get a better sense of Rory as a 'normal' companion, largely due to Amy being locked up in a box somewhere for most of episode 1 and forcing her fiancé to do her job. Darvill's more than good enough to make you wonder what 'new Who' would be like without Pretty Girl as its default for companions.
Beyond that, though, this is rough. The confident hand and production team that steered most of this series seems to have gone on holiday, and we gain very little sense of place, to the point where I don't even remember the name of the town with the big drill - it's just some houses in Wales. The underground cave network doesn't particularly convince even without the obvious green-screen moments, the courtroom is clearly the same location as the fancy hall from The End of the World (2005), and the Silurians themselves...ehhhh. I'd never call the originals 'iconic' in a Dalek or Cybermen sense - hell, they're not even on the Sontarans or Ice Warriors level - but they had a distinct look, and it's basically been scrapped altogether here. No webbed hands, no huge ears, no third eye, just actors with green scales on their faces wearing fishnets. Usually, Doctor Who monsters are at least a little more imaginative and mental than the typical Star Trek brand of aliens, but these buggers could blend into a particularly dull The Next Generation serial effortlessly. The masks are also a sore point, if only because (A) they could've easily made them look like classic Silurian faces if they'd wanted to, and (B) there's no real point to the things besides keeping make-up costs down.
I almost feel sorry for the supporting cast, especially the ones playing Silurians. They do good work, but they're all stuck in dull, stereotyped roles; Stephen Moore is the Wise Elder, Richard Hope is the Compassionate Scientist, and Neve McIntosh is the Dickish Warhawk, because if you're in any way associated with the military in new Who you have to be an arsehole. Outside of them, Meera Syal is surprisingly tolerable given how punchable she's been in other things, but the humans are just as much cardboard cut-outs as the lizards (it's never remotely a mystery who will screw things up for the Doctor's peace proposal) and what was the point of the little boy being dyslexic? Any time a story brings up a detail like that so pointedly it usually pays off, but I guess this is a demonstration of Chekhov's Unloaded And Probably Broken Gun, wherein we mention a plot device in act 1 then ignore it for the remainder of the story. Argh. Just do yourself a favour and skip this one. 2 out of 10.
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Vincent and the Doctor (Series 31, Story 215)
"Is this how time normally passes? Reeeally slowly...in the right order..."
On some levels, Vincent and the Doctor is symptomatic of the renewed 'drama' focus of post-relaunch Who which I've come to hate, a story where mawkish sentimentality and overstaged emotional button-pressing takes precedence over plot logic, scary monsters and, y'know, science fiction in general. And yet, somehow (much like Father's Day back in 2005) I'm okay with it, because it treats the drama as something grown-up, as opposed to an excuse for the Doctor and Amy to look all weepy and spawn a thousand crying.gifs accompanied by "I CAN'T EVEN" and such on Tumblr.
Obviously, when you're dealing with a secondary character 'big' enough to put in the title of the story, things are going to live and die by the work of the associated actor, and the producers struck gold here with Tony Curran. Yes, it is certainly a bit daft to have Van Gogh (Dutch) speaking in a noticable Scottish accent, but Curran with his very natural ginger hair and beard does superficially resemble the artist, and he's so engaging that the accent thing ceases to matter in short order. Curran's Vincent is quick-tempered and obsessive - enough so that his neighbours' accusations of madness don't seem so ghastly - but also passionate and capable of great kindness, even if his ability to express that kindness verbally pales in comparison to his brush skills ("If you tire of this Doctor, return! And we will have children by the dozen!"), and his sudden, abrupt fits of depression are harrowing in their reality. What really makes that part hit home is the Doctor's glum, paralyzed reaction; it's rare that he finds himself at a place where nothing he can do can make it better, but of course, you can't just push a button or wave a screwdriver at manic depression and make it go away. Amy also gets good development here; although her fondness for art feels out of left-field (although thinking about it, she did make her own little dolls as a kid, so maybe I'm not reading into things far enough?) her fannish reaction to meeting Vincent feels more natural than it did with Churchill in Victory of the Daleks and she makes his amorous advances feel humourous. There's also some nice payoffs from the previous story, but, again, spoilers.
Although very clearly reusing a few locations from The Vampires of Venice blunts the effect a little, Vincent gets the show's direction and aesthetic back on firm ground after the shoddy-looking Silurian episodes. The cobbled alleyways give a nice claustrophobic feel to a mid-episode chase, and Vincent's house and the fields surrounding it are believably rustic. It's all shot with a high colour contrast that makes everything bright pop off the screen, which helps support Van Gogh's slightly unhinged explanations for his work. There's also a particularly wonderful moment near the end with the Doctor, Amy and Vincent laying in a field staring up at the night sky, and as Vincent excitably describes the beauty he sees in something as simple as darkness, the shot of the sky is drawn over and transformed into an animated approximation of a Van Gogh piece...it's wonderfully done, and I love when VFX are used for smarter things in this show than simply making Daleks fly or spaceships blow up.
You may have noticed I've gone this far without actually mentioning the 'baddie' of the story. Well. Richard Curtis - in his one and only Who contribution to date - is plainly more interested in the human side of things, which feels like a passion project for him. The more 'traditional' Who business, while not awful, never quite meshes with the character work, and never feels more substantive than a protracted hide-n-seek with a violent invisible giant turkey. Which is exactly what it is. Nevertheless, the good stuff here vastly outweighs the bad, and the turkey-buggering flies by. Add to that some good laughs and a quick turn by the wonderful Bill Nighy and this takes a potential soap opera and turns it into something great. 8 out of 10.
~+~
The Lodger (Series 31, Story 216)
"Hello, I'm Captain Troy Handsome of International Rescue, please state the nature of your emergency..."
The comedic twin to Amy's Choice, The Lodger feels like another instance where an attempt to do a 'cheap one' results in a simple concept being run with 'til the show's legs threaten to fall off. Your monster of the week: a flat that eats people, which in typical Who fashion also spits out time-distorting gobbledegook that renders the TARDIS inoperable and demands a protracted solution to what is in theory a simple problem. Not that the Doctor ever really gets simple problems...
More than anything, this story gives Matt Smith a chance to stretch his weird bandy legs and solidify his take on the Doctor for good. It's a bravura performance from the man that borders on a stand-up routine (scrap basically every other element of the story and just leave the Doctor bouncing around someone's house remarking on things and it'd still be a good episode) but always keeps one foot across the line of drama, and never slips into the eye-bulging histrionics of David Tennant. By comparison, Karen Gillan as Amy is sidelined, reduced to hanging out in the TARDIS while it pinballs around the vortex, although the end of the episode does give her a nice moment building towards the next story which somewhat makes up for it. In the absence of his true companion, the Doctor pals around with Craig...no, not me. I wish. It's actually James Corden, not an actor I've ever liked before but, thanks to a naturalistic script that lets him be an amusing klutz without forcing it, he's quite brilliant as a foil to Smith, and it's nice to see the Doctor through different eyes.
Compared to the storybook land of Leadworth, The Lodger's Colchester setting isn't nearly so glamourized, but succeeds at both feeling like a real, tangible place, and in reflecting Craig's attitude. No, there clearly isn't much to see or do around here, but it's bright and cozy, and the pub's got enough regulars to make a decent football team, usually, so there's really no reason to go anywhere else, right? Speaking of which, if you'd told me before I saw this one that the Doctor would be playing something as chavvish as football and enjoying it, I might've broken some things in frustration, but it works within the plot as another thing for Craig to get grumpy over, and Smith somehow makes the act itself look like fun. I can't explain how. Magic may be involved. The one part of the story where some serious money may have been needed - the true form of the killer flat - was apparently based on the winning submission to one of Who's regular Blue Peter design competitions, and it's a pretty great take on a sort of evil mirrorverse TARDIS control room. Also, a special tip of the hat is warranted for Murray Gold here; I've had plenty of ups and downs with his music since the show restarted, but here it's all ups, with a twee romantic strings that would be sickeningly sugary if the relationship between Craig and Sophie (Daisy Haggard) wasn't pitched at exactly that level, and the drawn-out unearthly moan that highlights the killer flat is one of the few times Gold understands the value of understating things.
If The Lodger has a problem...well, it's really more a lacking part than a 'problem' problem. There's almost nothing wrong with what's in the episode. My only wish is that the core plot found a way to be more substantial than 'the Doctor hangs out in someone's spare room for a week, then knackers a rogue time machine'. It's a little bit bitty, and one does wonder why the Doctor is quite so cautious around the device when he's typically cavalier. That said, the core plot isn't really the key here, it's the stuff that surrounds it that's important. This is Who transformed into a sitcom, except good. 9 out of 10.
~+~
Next time: A season finale! A Christmas special! Some other stuff!
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