Behind the Sofa - The Collaborative Doctor Who Blog

Behind the Sofa is an irreverent (and often adult) collaborative blog dedicated to the long-running British science fiction show 'Doctor Who'.

Cry Me A River. Posted 23:57 on September 1, 2010
Who Fix Posted 15:13 on August 8, 2010
He Can Carry A Good Tune Posted 09:38 on July 26, 2010
Radio Squee Posted 00:25 on July 25, 2010
Scarcely Bears Thinking About Posted 17:57 on July 5, 2010
Making it a good one Posted 21:44 on June 30, 2010
Get Me To The Church On Time Posted 18:32 on June 28, 2010
The Doctor and Amy's Excellent Adventure Posted 11:51 on June 27, 2010
Just Like That... Posted 06:39 on June 27, 2010
The Memory Cheats Posted 23:04 on June 25, 2010

September 01, 2010

Cry Me A River.

Right, stop whatever you're doing for ten minutes and watch this. It's the animated prequel to the next audio series of Doctor Who spin-off Professor Bernice Summerfield. And I'd make it full screen:



Some back story for the uninitiated: created by new series writer Paul Cornell (Father's Day, Human Nature) and voiced by Lisa Bowerman, Summerfield's adventures began in the pages of the original Doctor Who novels published in the late 90s when the was "terminally" off air (she was the companion in the original novel version of Human Nature), and was a companion of the Seventh (McCoy) Doctor. After splitting with the character, she continued in her own series of books which then transferred to audio drama cd for the Big Finish company and were instrumental in getting them to the license to produce original stories featuring the classic Doctors.

The audio adventures for Bernice have run for over ten years; I haven't heard most of them, but the style is rather closer to the British comic book tradition, very 2000 AD. An archaeologist, she's somewhat an forerunner to River Song though she's only rarely been reunited with the Doctor and always seemingly in the right order. She's shifted away from her day job in recent years and this short film is an attempt to draw her back in that direction, smartly referencing Lara Croft to a degree and producing the kind of chase which couldn't be accomplished as well in audio. Smart.

Her nemesis it seems is now Irving Braxiatel, her one time boss, owner of private museum, the Braxiatel Collection (mentioned briefly in the classic series Paris set story City of Death). Brax is a timelord and loomed large in the spin-off Whoniverse having been a major character in both the Bernice plays and the Gallifrey series (about Romana II's presidency) oscillating between malevolence and benevolence and is voiced by Miles Richardson, Ian's son (and sounds exactly like his father when he's playing the older version). Oh and he's the Doctor's brother. Best mention that too.

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Ooooh, I like it in spite of myself as I've always shied away from the New Adventures/Virgin Books/etc malarkey.

It's quite Lara Croft (she even has etheric beam locators) and the robot is quite 2000ADy.

Is this animation the way the Bernice S stuff is going or just a one-off promotion for it?

I must confess that stuff like "X turns out to be the Doctor's brother" usually tends to put me off. There's a point at which you can overegg the pudding in trying to produce links to existing canon and it comes across to me as a lack of confidence on the writer's part and a bit van Stattenish in dragging the Doctor down to Earth and burying him under the dirt of someone else's plot device. Here's the Doctor's daughter/mother/brother/granddaughter might be meant to make him more interesting but I find it often succeeds only in making him less mysterious - one of the reasons I avoided fan-fic in the wilderness years.

I must confess that stuff like "X turns out to be the Doctor's brother" usually tends to put me off.

I'm not entirely up on Irving Braxiatel these days (Big Finish and I parted ways about five years back for financial reasons), but he's never been presented as a lazy contrivance like something out of Star Trek: The Next Generation where writers turned to long-lost relations of the characters because they needed a character story for an episode.

Partly, that's by design; there's very little interaction between the Doctor and Brax; by and large, the world of Benny is kept separate from the world of the Doctor, and Brax is a part of Benny's world. On the rare occasions that they have met, I'd say the relationship between the Doctor and Brax is much like the relationship between Sherlock and Mycroft Holmes, respectively.

Is this animation the way the Bernice S stuff is going or just a one-off promotion for it?

Don't quote me, but I think it's just a one-off. About ten years ago, it was rumored that Big Finish was going to do a Benny film, along the lines of Downtime or Shakedown, but nothing ever came of it.

I'd love to see Benny turn up in the new series. As flustered as the eleventh Doctor is by River Song, a woman he hasn't slept with yet but will, I wonder how flustered he would be by Benny, a woman he did sleep with, way back in his eighth Doctor days. My dream Benny casting, much as I've liked Lisa Bowerman's voice, is Rachel Weisz. Of course, neither is Paul Cornell's original casting of Emma Thompson.

Too true Allyn. Plus the reference was made in a novel which was published well after Virgin books had lost the license to produce official Doctor Who fiction and everything was being done surreptitiously anyway. So it's there if you want to believe it (and I do like the idea of the Doctor having a proper family rather than being loomed or whatever) but ignorable if that's not your thing.

I haven't really followed Big Finish much other than the Eighth Doctor and the Gallifrey plays, as you say because it's so expensive. Since the show came back, there are so many releases that you could easily spend sixty pounds a month to obtain everything. And that's before you've even considered whatever BBC Audio are doing and factored in the dvds of the classic episodes. As ever, I think that they'd probably make more if they reduced their prices on the assumption that more people would buy more of them.

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August 08, 2010

Who Fix

Just a quick plug for a brand new blog from the makers of Tachyon TV: Who Fix - your daily dose of Doctor Who goodness. It's pretty self-explanatory and we hope that you enjoy it...

http://www.whofix.net

Cheers

Neil and John

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Tachyon TV is on 'extended hiatus'?

It's the end of an Erato.

I thought that they did away with Erato's end as it was causing too many dirty jokes.

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July 26, 2010

He Can Carry A Good Tune

Doctor Who: Proms 10 & 11 - Royal Albert Hall, 24th and 25th July

Dwp1 And here we are again, two years later and another Doctor Who Prom. Much has changed since that last extravaganza and the series itself has undergone something of a transformation under the auspices of Head Writer & Executive Steven Moffat. We have a new Doctor too, in the beguiling form of Matt Smith. But some things haven't changed and one of them is the music composed for the series by Murray Gold. Proms 10  and 11 at the Royal Albert Hall provide us with an opportunity to reacquaint ourselves with some of Gold's most successful pieces composed for the Russell T Davies era of the show and to get to know a whole new set of themes for the first series overseen by Moffat.

What I like about these Proms is that we get a chance to hear concert versions of the music composed for the series unshackled from the extremely busy sound mix that smothers many of the episodes we see on television. You can listen to the latest themes without all manner of sound effects, including explosions and weapons fire, and dialogue obscuring some of the best music being composed for a British television series today. The music is also presented within the world of Doctor Who as live too, with all manner of monsters prowling round the Hall and plenty of interactivity including clips of the series and special appearances. Hopefully, the children attending these Proms will be inspired by Gold's music for the show but also will come away also having had a taster of some of the more accessible classical pieces within the programme.

Dwp2 This year's Proms get off to a gorgeous start with 'The Mad Man With A Box', an ethereal piece, almost mystical in quality, that, with its beautiful solo vocal from Yamit Mamo, manages to capture some of the magic of the man that we all know of as the Doctor. Onto the stage comes one of the hosts for our show, Karen Gillan, resplendent in a gold and black gown, who then introduces us to the pizazz of 'An Untimely Arrival' which covers the pre-titles to The Eleventh Doctor as the TARDIS crash lands in Amy's garden. Full of energy and vigour, Gold uses it as a bridging motif between the RTD era and the new adventures of a new Doctor. Familiar but also preparing the way into the new series without frightening the horses too much. It complements the John Adams piece, Short Ride In A Fast Machine quite wonderfully, itself full of syncopation and looping, repetitive rhythms and, for these Proms, it is certainly one of Adams more accessible and audience friendly pieces.

One of my highlights of these Proms is Gold's new theme for the Doctor, 'I Am The Doctor'. It's an epic signature tune for one of the most mercurial of the Doctor's incarnations and sets out to remind us that although the Doctor has changed, he is still very much the hero. The melody sticks in the mind and is instantly addictive and it's been used throughout the series but most significantly in The Pandorica Opens as he gives his speech to the amassed ships of his deadliest enemies above Stonehenge. A superb composition, a Gold standard if you like, and musically one of Series Five's greatest achievements. As this played, the Hall was invaded by all manner of alien foes - Saturnynians, Silurians, Cybermen and Judoon - and children everywhere, even those of us who are 48 years old and still refuse to grow up, were left grinning with delight.

Dwp6 Two classical pieces follow with the BBC National Orchestra Of Wales under the brilliant conductorship of Grant Llewellyn. If the Adams piece was a bit of a warm up, then Llewellyn gets the Orchestra and the London Philharmonic Choir to really give it some welly here. William Walton's Overture 'Portsmouth Point', a crafty nod to Murray Gold's home town, is a jaunty, perky work, full of gorgeous melody and rhythm. The mood undergoes a startling change with the second piece. An all time favourite, Holst's 'Mars', from The Planets gets a stunning rendition here and much kudos must go to the Choir and the percussion section of the Orchestra for really getting their teeth into this. Another highlight of the two Proms, it's stunningly performed and Llewellyn conducts like a man possessed. The boiling, doom laden aggression and pounding military crescendos sent tingles down my spine. Now, if they could have shown a few clips of Quatermass whilst this was playing then I'd have been an extremely happy telefantasy fan boy.

Dwp4 Back to Who with 'Battle In The Skies' from Victory Of The Daleks. Amusingly, Gold's homage to the scores of Ron Goodwin (633 Squadron and Where Eagles Dare) and Eric Coates (The Dam Busters) is heard as an ARP warden yells across the Hall, 'Put that light out!' as one of Bracewell's 'Ironside' Daleks rises from the floor of the Hall and asks everyone if they want a cup of tea...and a biscuit (thanks to Nick Briggs). The poor old Ironside is then bluntly interrupted by the white Dalek Supreme, arriving on stage in a blaze of light and dry ice. It sends the Ironside Dalek packing and then orders conductor Ben Foster to play the music of the Daleks or else! Foster teases the Dalek and on the matinee performance threatens it with his baton only to be told not to interfere with its sucker. The Supreme (aided and abetted by Barnaby Edwards) patrols the stage as Foster whips the Orchestra Of Wales into a stirring accompaniment to the episode's dogfight sequences. After a swift ice cream in the interval, it is back to the second half of the programme.

Grant Llewellyn returns and once again he wrings as much drama as he can from the Choir and the Orchestra with 'O Fortuna' from Carl Orff's Carmina burana. A medieval eruption of choral power, this iconic piece is stirring and epic, summoning up the very essence of raw nature, of life and death. And Old Spice. Yes, I'm old enough to remember those ads. Karen begins to introduce one of her favourite themes, Amy, but suddenly receives a very special message. In the spirit of Music Of The Spheres back in 2008, where David Tennant's Doctor attempted to stop a Graske from disrupting the Prom, Matt Smith pops up on the video screens around the Hall, greeting the audience from some very odd angles, even upside down at one point, in fine panto tradition. It's a lovely, witty piece, "Sir, careful with that wig. And you sir. And you. And actually most of the violin section. Oh, and ladies mind those skirts. And selected gentlemen."

Dwp5 He's got to fix an overloading fold-back quasar do-dah, thingumy that will turn into a "wibbly wobbly explody wody thing". And he tries to defuse it with an electric tooth brush! But here he goes one better than Tennant. He disappears off the screen and emerges, for real, in the centre of the Hall, looking for someone to help him defuse this bomb. Smith's comic timing and physicality is much to the fore and when he actually does pop up in the Royal Albert Hall for real, interacting with children from the audience, he's in his element and ad-libbing away like a good 'un. Children clearly adore him (he captivated Ellis and Ben in these performances) and he completely confirms that of all the things about Series Five, he is quite simply the series greatest asset right now. Judging by the way he handled all the gobbledegook of the script he's also fast becoming the Stanley Unwin of all of the Doctors! "ITV's been blown off the air!" he naughtily concludes after deactivating the bomb.

We return to the music from the series with 'Amy' and this time Arthur Darvill comes on stage to introduce the music. This is again one of Gold's major triumphs and definitely a high point in the Proms. Yamit Mamo returns for solo vocal duties and with nods to Danny Elfman, Gold offers a heartbreakingly lovely tune for the new companion in the series, deftly capturing the frailties and weaknesses of the woman as well as her sense of wonder and bravery. Quite stunning. It's back to more monsters with a suite of themes, 'Liz, Lizards, Vampires And Vincent', covering the music to accompany the battle between Liz 10 and the Smilers on Starship UK; the return of the Silurians (with Ben Foster surrounded by three of them as he tries to conduct); the marauding vampire Sisters Of The Water and the tragic life of Vincent Van Gogh. Of these, the standouts are certainly the motifs and themes for Vampires Of Venice and Vincent And The Doctor.

Dwp7 The vampires get a memorably unearthly melody to accompany their sojourns into Venice and into the Hall itself as a group of the Sisters way lay a member of the audience during the matinee performance, dancing around him, much to his bemusement. The magnificent music that featured during Vincent's journey into the future and his visit to the gallery to hear how his work had affected millions of lives is presented here. Full of joy and sadness, it remains a very special, emotionally powerful theme.  The medley concludes with the nerve jangling incidentals, using a lilting piano riff, pounding chords and choir, that accompany the Weeping Angels and one of them pops in for a quick visit, scaring the bejesus out of most of the kids in the audience.

Karen and Arthur return to introduce Wagner's 'The Ride Of The Valkyries' and Grant Llewellyn gives the Orchestra Of Wales yet another energetic work out with the swirling strings and strident brass of this stirring classic. It again truly shows what a class act this Orchestra is. Karen then introduces, to several whoops from the audience, 'This Is Gallifrey', as featured in Series Three, and 'Vale decem' from The End Of Time. 'This Is Gallifrey' is here used to wonderful effect as, in the evening performance at least, the video screens show all the regenerations of each Doctor. All the Doctors get their fair share of applause and this slightly distracts from what is one of Gold's finest pieces for the series. Naturally, the greatest response is reserved for Tennant and Smith. On the matinee, either through a technical fault or by decision, the roll call of Doctors wasn't shown and 'This Is Gallifrey' was allowed to soar, full of loss and pride for an ancient society. 'Vale decem' is an amazing choral work with counter-tenor Mark Chambers beautiful voice at the centre of a moving, elegiac piece that sees the regeneration of the Tenth into the Eleventh. Both pieces are guaranteed not to leave a dry eye in the house. Superb.

Dwp3 Matt then arrives on stage to describe Gold's response to Moffat's two part series finale, a specially arranged work, 'The Pandorica Suite'. To be honest, it's not my favourite of Gold's recent work as it tends to resort to emotionally colouring the scenes it covers, particularly the comedy time travel bits, rather than develop big, memorable themes. There's little to remember or to hum here as it rather is incidental music and only until he gets to the conclusion of the suite with a thrilling reinterpretation, signposted with some great brass sections, of 'I Am The Doctor' does it come alive with crashing percussion and insistent woodwind.

Smith, Gillan and Darvill come back to introduce 'The Song Of Freedom', from Series Four. Personally, not one of my favourites but Mark Chambers voice is again extraordinary and Foster gets a tremendous performance from the London Phiharmonic Choir and the Orchestra for this anthemic theme. Murray Gold guests on keyboards during this and the arrangement of the 'Doctor Who Theme' and I'm still not particularly fond of his latest arrangement of the series theme, especially those very non-Ron Grainer opening orchestral tags and brass sections. That said, fortunately enough of Grainer's original composition and Delia Derbyshire's realisation remains and it's lovely to hear the old theme in such a setting driven by especially powerful bass and percussion. Both Proms rightly received a standing ovation and it is still pretty amazing to think that the little series we all love has been transformed into an unstoppable multi-media attraction. To paraphrase the Ninth Doctor, 'Fantastic!'

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"ITV's been blown off the air!"
Hehehe!

Thanks for such a detailed write-up! Sounds like a memorable time.

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July 25, 2010

Radio Squee

Stuart Ian Burns listens to the Doctor Who Prom 2010

Proms Listening to a Doctor Who Prom on the radio should be a miserable experience for most fans simply because we’re not there and we can't see what we're missing.  When the audience are reacting to whatever’s happening in the Royal Albert Hall, it’s not until the end of a piece that (in this case) presenter Petroc Trelawny explains that the eleven rhythmic applauses are for the video appearances of each of the different incarnations of the Doctor, so we should be disappointed that we couldn’t quite rightly cheer for Paul McGann at the correct moment (or whichever Doctor is wrongly your favourite).

Yet, Karen’s funny introductions in which she seemed be surprised by the sound of her own voice, Arthur's astonishment at the scale of the auditorium, the weight of the orchestral and choral sound and the infectious atmosphere in the hall were just enough to transport at least my thoughts to my imagined favourite spot just in front of the stage (which I hear in reality isn’t acoustically the best place to stand but it's my imagination so for me it is).  Someone else from this parish was actually in the hall tonight (and will be again tomorrow lunch time) and may write about the experience so I don't really want to steal his thunder.  But I did at least want to say, as Karen might, wasn't that, well, amazing?

der-der-der-dum-da-dum vocals

This was also a fascinating first chance to hear the imaginarium of Murray Gold (orchestrated by Ben Foster) largely without the dialogue on top.  First impressions in the prologue and The Mad Man with a Box were that in keeping with Moffat’s scripts, Gold had embraced the infantile qualities of the premise of the series by shifting from the ethereal qualities of “Flavia” to the kinds of der-der-der-dum-da-dum vocals that a child (and some adults) might use to interpret the music, essentially giving them something to sing along to.  As the concert progressed, Gold was keen to demonstrate that although this is a new series with new themes, the range and ability he established in the previous era was still in effect.

This Is The Doctor, what we heard of it under being drowned out by the dialogue (for a chance – it's usually the other way round) in contrast to the Tenth Doctor's angsty theme, is broad and rhythmic with an added, strident level of heroism that suggests the character has moved on from the underlying tragedy of the first two incarnations of the new era.  Battle in the Skies (Daleks vs Spitfires) may have lacked the raw vocal distinctiveness of the The Dark and Endless Dalek night, but the meddly Liz, Lizards, Vampires and Vincent better demonstrated the range of sounds that the composer has to produce across the series, the final section perfectly capturing the melancholic state of the painter. 

Perhaps inevitably my favourite tune of the night was Amy, which keys in nicely to the slightly madcap elements of the character’s personality but also includes some evident discord because her life doesn’t make sense.  Murray’s companion compositions have been a mix of tragic (Rose), plaintive (Martha and Rose) and screwball (Donna) and in Amy he finds something rather more magical, perhaps because it has to cover the span of a longer life, and so has to fit both the child like wonder of Amelia and the bright young yet cynical thing she’s become.

Another gift at the close of the concert was the latest version of the Doctor Who theme, and for the first time in general public (after a couple of tantalising hints at the stuttery end of the credits sequences in the Doctor Who PC games) the middle eighth which is the moment when this rendition suddenly makes sense as the choir crashes in.  I still live in hope that Moffat will have a change of heart and make good on his praise for the Delia Derbyshire arrangement and use the thing in the next series, but after hearing Murray's latest version tonight I’m oddly less hostile towards it.  The graphics still look horrendous though.

I still live in hope that Moffat will have a change of heart and make good on his praise for the Delia Derbyshire arrangement and use the thing in the next series

Amid Murray Gold’s gold, the classical, some would say archival music was well chosen: the incessant, metrical sound of John Adams’s Short Ride in a Fast Machine brought to mind the ticking of a clock; Walton’s busy Portsmouth Point Overture suggested the bustle of a space port; Wagner’s repeating Die Walküre (which I made some good jokes about last time); Orff’s O Fortuna, the certain inspiration for much of Murray’s choral work and Holst’s Mars from The Planets the certain inspiration for much of the music in the Star Trek films, almost unlistenable now without imagining Picard growling “The line must be drawn here!” just as the Enterprise shatters into a thousand tiny pieces.

During the interval in 2008, the BBC controversially commissioned science fiction writer Justina Robson to provide an audio essay on the programme which quickly descended into a bonkers evisceration of the sexual politics of the show.  This time, much more in keeping with the mood of the concert, Matthew Sweet offered a pleasant and intelligent short history of the score music in the classic series from An Unearthly Child through to the unearthly noise of Keff McCulloch which 2Entertain would do well to snap up and put out as an extra on one of their future releases.

All of the composers interviewed were on good form and although some of the stories were well worn (Dudley Simpson biking over the pages days before transmission), it was interesting to hear how their experiences and the demands placed upon them by successive producers were very similar across the forty years, assuming that if the video wasn't of the standard they'd hoped, the music would be able to somehow pull it together.  That it did, is a testament to their creativity and like Sweet, I too sometimes whistle City of Death out in the world, and even did it in Paris.  But that's a story for another time.

the unearthly noise of Keff McCulloch

Back in the Albert, any disappointment about the audience’s genuine sympathy for the exterminated Daleks before the interval (has it come to this?) quickly dissipated in the face of Matt Smith’s lively and mostly live turn as the Doctor.  In an interview at the back of this month’s Doctor Who Magazine, the actor suggests, going into the next series, that he has a better handle on how to play the character and that was certainly on display here as he navigated a mix of improv and script with a volunteer from the audience.  Smith is able to fully inhabit the Doctor now and it seems to be because he’s realised that the best way to make him convincing is to simply be himself (unless he was simply being himself tonight and so therefore he was the Doctor – there’s a brain teaser).

Music of the Spheres succeeded because of its evocation the beauty of classical music through a rather gorgeous speech; whatever this was called simply brought the magic of the show right into the auditorium.  We weren’t given an indication on the radio as to the age of this small boy, but surely the experience of interacting with a fictional character will have interesting repercussions for his future psychological development.  Let’s hope for the sake of his parents he doesn’t spend the next decade or so obsessing about this mysterious imaginary friend from his past who he helped save half of London, but then, unlike Amy, but like the rest of us, he can keep in touch with his friend’s adventures.  And how they sound.

Next: Dvořák's Slavonic Dance in E minor Op.72 No.2

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July 05, 2010

Scarcely Bears Thinking About

Doctor Who: The Big Bang
Review by Tom Dickinson

Rorypainting The Big Bang is one of the most thrilling, most enchanting, and most exciting Doctor Who stories I've ever experienced in any medium. But it's also one of the most deeply flawed, primarily because it gets too bogged down in its own impressive complexity. Recently I was watching the featurette on the Mawdryn Undead DVD, in which Peter Davison, Nicholas Courtney and Eric Saward all wonder whether that story might have been a bit too complicated for Doctor Who. If they were watching The Big Bang, it must surely have made their heads spin.

Russell T Davies was often (and rightly) said to have under-thought the logical, science fictional plot progression of his stories, giving his writerly attention instead to the drama and the emotional journey of the characters. But Moffat over-thinks his, to the extent where the science fiction is not so much a story that we're shown as a logical argument that we're told. It’s like a Neal Stephenson book, crammed into fifty-five minutes. The story of The Big Bang (or at least its middle part) isn’t much more than a bunch of people being chased around a museum by a stone Dalek (which is, I admit, kind of fantastic). And every so often, they pause to exchange bizarre pseudo-logical pronouncements such as "exploding at every point in history" and "the universe literally never happened," gradually building up the ultimate explanation in a way that’s bewildering, but impressively bewildering.

It's bewildering, but impressively bewildering.

But does it make sense? I'm scared to think about it all too hard, for fear I might get trapped in its intricacies (or, if you prefer, arrant nonsense) and never emerge. Just look what happened to poor Neil. I'm not going to challenge whether there's actually any sense in Moffat's convoluted maze of paradoxes, restoration fields, footprints of the never-were and fezzes. I'm going to take it as read that Moffat designed another intricate puzzle-box of harmoniously moving parts. I'm just not sure that's what wound up on screen. Recently, Chip (of the Two Minute Time Lord podcast) put out an episode featuring Erik (of the Bridging the Rift podcast) which gives plausible answers to some (but not all) of the questions raised in this episode. But the very fact that it's necessary for us to make up our own answers is a testament to just how muddled the plotting in this story is. I'm all for challenging drama, but too much ham-fisted sci-fi exposition can distract, to the point where it ceases to be drama at all.

StonedalekLet’s return to the Mawdryn Undead comparison. In that story, two versions of the Brigadier from different points in his timeline meet one another. In this story, we have two characters, the Doctor and Amy, meeting other versions of themselves… using two entirely inconsistent models of time travel: Amy meets a version of herself from an altered timeline, whereas the Doctor travels in tidy, self-consistent causal loops, crossing his own timeline (which flippantly violates the fundamental rules of Doctor Who storytelling, but who cares, because it’s fun). And this turns out to be one of the more sensible, less complicated parts of this story!

Maybe this convoluted beast of a story would have worked if it had been spread out over multiple episodes, and the exposition was given time to develop more slowly. This is why Neal Stephenson’s books are ofen so incredibly hefty. But we all know Moffat really couldn't afford that. The more information he gives us in advance, the greater the likelihood that we'd have figured out his entire plot. The television viewer of today is too sophisticated for his or her own good, and Doctor Who fans especially: look how much we managed to figure out based on the few hints we were given. We can whine all we want that the Pandorica’s restoration field comes out of nowhere, but if Moffat had even hinted at its existence in The Pandorica Opens, we would all have known more or less exactly what was going to happen this week. So as a result, Moffat's got to deliver all his exposition in one go. It's a lose/lose situation.

You know what they say about a cosmos without the Doctor...

Unless there’s another option, which of course there was: he could have cut it out entirely. We really don't need the head-scratching brainteaser because it's all just setup to what's really important: the brutal fact that, in order to save everyone and restore Amy's lost family, the Doctor has to revert the universe to its original state, only without himself ever having existed.* There are certainly less cumbersome ways we could have gotten to that point. Having the Doctor mumble something about "complicated space-time events" would have done it for me.

Rivershoot *(Which wouldn’t really be a very good thing at all, would it? The universe needs the Doctor. Didn’t Moffat watch Turn Left? Plus, The Doctor wasn’t there to use the Moment to end the time war, which would of course mean that there wouldn't be a universe anymore because the Time Lords destroyed it and become beings of pure consciousness and energy. Didn’t Moffat watch The End of Time? Or was there no Time War at all, without the Doctor inciting it in Genesis of the Daleks? Maybe we shouldn't think too hard about all this. You know what they say about a cosmos without the Doctor...)

But Moffat instead chooses to walk us step by step down his winding path, using time he could have devoted to other, more important things, such as giving us some idea of the identity of the villain of the piece. Yes, I understand that Moffat has chosen to play the long(er) game and postpone the answer to this question until next year. But while that's a refreshing and surprising way of handling plotting in Doctor Who, it comes at the cost of reducing The Big Bang to a dramatic fizzle. This isn’t Lost. Questions such as "who is making the TARDIS explode" and "what do they stand to gain by erasing the universe" and "did the Doctor thwart their evil plan or is he somehow playing right into their hands" are pretty central to the dramatic stakes of this story now, and while the delayed payoff might make this story better when we revisit it next year or the year after, that's little comfort at the moment.

Moffat has chosen to play the long(er) game.

And I say all of this about a story I described above as "one of the most thrilling, most enchanting, and most exciting Doctor Who stories I've ever experienced in any medium." I complain because I care. In the end, the thing that saves this story is the very same thing I whined about earlier: the sheer concentration of the offending exposition. Most of the material I found really unpalatable was at the center of the episode, giving us a thrilling opening and a gloriously triumphant conclusion. And a strong introduction and conclusion count for a lot.

AmeliawhatThe teaser was just magical, re-enacting the opening of The Eleventh Hour with the younger (and, in my opinion, more likable) Amelia Pond with the details changed but many things very much the same. I wrote at length in my review of The Eleventh Hour about how much I loved the establishing shot of Casa Pond, and I love it just as much here if not more. It serves to establish one of the most important (and surprising) parts of The Big Bang: the ways in which it echoes the stories we've seen so far. While we fans have been scrambling to recognize the clues that would take on greater plot significance in the finale (and certainly there were a few), far more important are the moments of thematic significance. Against what we've come to expect from Doctor Who over the years, the duck pond is not an important plot point but rather an important metaphor for Amy’s house and the void left behind when things are forgotten. 

After the brilliant teaser (which ends with Amy in the Pandorica, one of the episode's biggest surprises), we're given a story whose focal point is Rory, or rather Auton Rory, who is fast becoming one of my favorite companions. His scenes with the Doctor are wonderfully written and performed (and shot, as well--kudos to newcomer Toby Haynes). I've had friends tell me that they found it difficult to get emotionally involved with this series, and I agree, but whenever Rory’s on screen that problem fades away. And while Rory's return as the security guard is obvious (nurse, gondolier, doctor, plainclothes detective, centurian, security officer, groom... what will Rory Williams be next?) it's nevertheless extremely satisfying.

Nurse, gondolier, doctor, plainclothes detective, centurian, security officer, groom... what will Rory Williams be next?

Sadly this is the point at which the story beings to crumble under the weight of its own exposition, but by the time the Doctor has rigged the Pandorica to fly into the exploding TARDIS, most of the heavy plotting is out of the way and we’re free to focus on the drama of the situation. Karen Gillan gives one of her better performances, and there’s even a poignant moment for River Song (who is otherwise surprisingly irrelevant to this story) as she mourns the fact that the Doctor will now never get to know her, nicely inverting her sacrifice in Forest of the Dead.

DoctorbedtimeThe Doctor’s journey backwards through the events of the series is a wonderful moment for Matt Smith, as he cements his “best Doctor ever” status (for me, anyway). The Lodger seems a strange choice, and I wonder whether there were other scenes scripted or filmed that were left out for time. In any case, the Doctor’s reassurance of Amy from Flesh and Stone is better in context, and his bedtime story to Amy is inspired. On first viewing it plays as a natural outpouring of warmth and humanity from a defeated Doctor, telling a bedtime story to a little girl as his final act. And then on second viewing, it plays as a moment of sheer genius on the part of the Doctor and brilliant writing by Moffat as the Doctor seamlessly integrates the necessary clues into a story specifically designed to be remembered on one very particular day. When this pays off at Amy’s wedding reception with the invocation of “Something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue,” it’s one of Doctor Who’s finest and most triumphant moments.

There are those who will object to the plot point of Amy losing and recovering her memory as being too similar to Donna's fate in Journey's End, when really what’s happening is quite the opposite: whereas Donna must forget the Doctor or she will die, Amy must remember the Doctor, or he will die (okay, never have existed. Today just dying is a result). In any case, the companion forced to forget his or her travels with the Doctor is really just an occupational hazard of time travel, used previously in Mawdryn Undead with the Brigadier's temporary amnesia (how glad I am that I watched that story shortly before writing this review) and stretching further back to The War Games in 1969. Perhaps that's a more apt comparison, considering the debt Smith's Doctor owes to Troughton. But while Moffat's owes much to the Doctor Who stories of the past (of course he does, that's how Doctor Who works), what he's doing here with the theme of memory and forgetting is richer and more complex than anything that's been attempted in Doctor Who before.

The most metatextual Doctor Who story since Love and Monsters.

And that's the kind of complexity that can really be appreciated in this episode and in the way the series functions as a whole: the thematic complexity. The running themes relating to fairy tales and imaginative storytelling are developed to a grand conclusion in The Big Bang where it’s Amy’s ability to remember the Doctor as a story that allows her ultimately to bring him back even when it looked like he might be gone forever. I don’t think it’s too much of  a stretch to read it as an allegory for the Doctor being “forgotten” in the 1980s and subsequent “remembering” in 2005 by a generation of writers who had been affected as children by stories of the Doctor, making this the most metatextual Doctor Who story since Love and Monsters

Somethingblue And so the episode ends with a joyous farewell to Leadworth and the old team back together again, with some tantalizing hints thrown our way about what’s coming next year. If the Orient Express in space is a “sly dig at RTD,” as I’ve heard suggested by some fans, then it’s a dig too sly for me because I don’t get it. It sounds fantastic to me, and if that’s what we’ll be seeing this Christmas then I’m all for it. And if not, well, that’s okay too. I’m excited about the future of the show because, while this year has had its faults, overall I think it’s featured some really fantastic writing, acting, and directing, so I’m excited to see where this team will take us in year two. 

How many days ‘til Christmas?

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Good review though I disagree with a few points...

Tom you said:
"Russell T Davies was often (and rightly) said to have under-thought the logical, science fictional plot progression of his stories, giving his writerly attention instead to the drama and the emotional journey of the characters. But Moffat over-thinks his, to the extent where the science fiction is not so much a story that we're shown as a logical argument that we're told."

The idea that RTD didn't write well-plotted science-fictiony DW stories is a curious one (though one I have read before, which perhaps stems from New Earth which overshadows his other stories with its nonplot.)

I disagree that this ep of Moffat's is merely a "logical argument" rather than an action-packed story. There is a massive amount of plot in it but it all flows rather smoothly and also features four sequences across the 55 minutes which are really hugely emotional storytelling.

"But the very fact that it's necessary for us to make up our own answers is a testament to just how muddled the plotting in this story is. I'm all for challenging drama, but too much ham-fisted sci-fi exposition can distract, to the point where it ceases to be drama at all."

As far an unanswered plotpoints I thought (link) the only one was how River was at the wedding (though I did make up my own answer, then again she is a Woman Of Mystery.)

I don't think there is any "ham-fisted sci-fi exposition" - at one point Rory even asks what the Doctor is talking about and the Doctor provides the one-line, more poetic answer for him and the audience.

"Maybe this convoluted beast of a story would have worked if it had been spread out over multiple episodes, and the exposition was given time to develop more slowly."

I think it's partly so extraordinary because of the sheer amount of plot, all the twists and turns, and that these 55 minutes at the same time contain so many great character moments.

"We can whine all we want that the Pandorica’s restoration field comes out of nowhere,"

It is a poetic extension of the idea of the prison though.

"Yes, I understand that Moffat has chosen to play the long(er) game and postpone the answer to this question until next year. But while that's a refreshing and surprising way of handling plotting in Doctor Who, it comes at the cost of reducing The Big Bang to a dramatic fizzle. This isn’t Lost."

The myth of Lone Centurion, the Doctor spiraling the Pandorica to the heart of the TARDIS-Sun, the poignancy of the Doctor rewinding and unraveling, the triumphant return of the TARDIS - it was nonstop drama all the way and the final moments had the Doctor acknowledging the unanswered questions during the final uplifting scene so I don't agree there was any dramatic fizzle during the 55 minutes.

'I don’t think it’s too much of a stretch to read it as an allegory for the Doctor being “forgotten” in the 1980s and subsequent “remembering” in 2005 by a generation of writers who had been affected as children by stories of the Doctor, making this the most metatextual Doctor Who story since Love and Monsters.'

That's an interesting interpretation and one that makes sense considering the Doctor appeared for one day in 1996...

I think Frank gets to the heart of it when he says that the Doctor's basically firefighting and that all the exciting conceptual ideas stuff we hear about - all those amazing ideas, tripping off Matt Smith's tongue! - are heard and not seen.

Of the 2 big concepts of the season that were supposed to lead us up to this moment - the crack and the silence - the latter is postponed and the former is dealt with by the Doctor flying the Pandorica into the exploding TARDIS due to a property that as Tom points out, we only found out about 20 minutes previously. (I guess we should have been warned when sometimes the crack was a gap between realities, sometimes it ate people, sometimes the Doctor had floss bits of chewed-up TARDIS from its teeth, and sometimes it spooged forth soft Rory-horny tentacles to consume dead bodies like a Hoothi.)

Yes, 'The Big Bang' is brilliant and exciting and hilarious and moving and full of big ideas, but a lot of it doesn't make a lick of sense.

RTD was lambasted for fairy Doctor and rewinding time, but I buy the amplified psychic power of a concentrating population more than I do than a Doctor summoned into existence through the imaginative recall of Amy Pond who is somehow special because she slept next to a crack for years on end (despite it seemingly eating the rest of the family first even if it was right next to her head.)

"The Doctor has to revert the universe to its original state, only without himself ever having existed."

I also noticed this, without the Doctor there is no Earth. As the Doctor as a 'whole' would never have existed planet Earth would been overrun with alien life, dinosaurs, Daleks, Cybermen, Sontarans etc.

For someone who usually appreciates time-travel and its foibles, I am surprised Moffat didn't factor this in to the plot...

I enjoyed Turn Left (perhaps more so than the Big Bang) and it seems a shame to not acknowledge that episode (though ridden with continuity errors itself).

My partner called it the 'Alzheimer's season', and though part of me baulked at such a crass use of a serious debilitating illness, I can see where he's coming from. Because everything in the season narrative is about the fragility of and connection between identity and memory. Visual memory, false memory, lost memory; the loss of self, loss of relationships, loss of the broader social world (the universe even).

I loved it, even if some bits made no sense. And my memory, and identity, is stronger for having watched and enjoyed it so much.

I sadly suspect that we're being asked not to think too hard about the briefly Doctor-free universe. It's a little different, because in "Turn Left" you have 10 Doctors and then he dies, leaving a vacuum, whereas here he never existed at all. We might speculate that in his absence something or someone filled the gap. Another renegade Time Lord? Or perhaps someone or something else entirely? Did humans maybe rise to the challenge and defend themselves? Or were aliens drawn to Earth partly because the Doctor was around? It might be reasonable to suspect that the Master might have come to Earth partly to mess with the Doctor (though in "Terror of the Autons" the two of them appear to have little prior acquaintance, something which has probably been retconned since).

Other questions abound, of course, such as whether life on Earth would have started if not for the Doctor and Romana bringing Duggan back in time to slug Scaroth in the primeval mud, or whether the dinosaurs would have survived if Adric hadn't been on board the freighter in "Earthshock."

This is why, in my own review, I bring up the question of just how much of the Doctor's history has been erased or changed as a result of the universal reboot. Presumably "The Vampires of Venice" couldn't have happened in a crack-free universe, for example -- but if it didn't, then what was the point of him saving the day in the first place?

I kind of hope we see some of these questions come into play next season. I doubt they will, but it would be pretty interesting.

> I sadly suspect that we're being asked not to think too hard about the briefly Doctor-free universe [...]

My take on this (I'm going to avoid using the FW word, apparently it's childish - who knew? ;-) is that although in one sense the universe-without-the-doctor always existed, in another sense it was created on the 26th June 2010 as a result of the Doctor's own actions.

So the 26th June 2010 in some sense has *two* pasts, where the alternative without-the-doctor past suddenly appears having been created "retroactively". As such the alternative past, whatever it contains, must logically lead up to the same present as was already established by the "real" past.

Which is not to say that the alternative past cannot have some influence, for example Rory gets to live again thanks to the (entirely different!) alternative past where the cracks never existed, but in general major events in Earth's history must somehow end up working out the same.

(I like to think I'm getting quite good at this Fanw... errmm I mean devotee-based extemporising ;-)

though in "Terror of the Autons" the two of them appear to have little prior acquaintance, something which has probably been retconned since

I didn't get that impression. I got more the impression that they hadn't interacted in a while. I believe the Time Lord told the Doctor that "an old acquaintence" (or something like that) was around making trouble. But more importantly, in TotA, the Doctor casually remarked that vanity (or one of those related vices, maybe pride?) was "always the Master's weakness" and likewise the Master casually remarked that "curiosity was always the Doctor's weakness". To me that suggests that they already knew each other pretty well.

Regarding the Doctor-free universe and how it's remained invasion-free as well, I essentially agree with what David is suggesting (I think!)

When Amy brings the Doctor back (and I think it's important to remember he hasn't been erased from time like the things swallowed by the crack - he's trapped on the 'other side' without having had the chance to exist) the Doctor isn't just brought back as Amy remembers him, he's brought back with all his memories and experiences intact - so everything he has done, stays done.

I suppose it's like a predestination paradox - Amy's world is in one piece because the Doctor has 'always' been there to save and protect it (or, he 'always' will be). But he needs to be remembered by Amy for his timeline to fall into place alongside everyone else.

Whether or not that means everyone will now 'remember' what has happened in the past is another question...

@David Claughton: I'm still mulling this over but here's what it starts to look like to me. It seems as though 26th June actually has FOUR (potential?) pasts now:

1. The pre-Pandorica past in which there are cracks in time from an exploding TARDIS. The Angels fall into a giant crack, and the Saturnyne jump through one. This is the history we saw in season 5.

2. The cliffhanger past in which Richard Dawkins has a "star cult" and there are tropical penguins and such. Time and space are collapsing so history is mangled. The Silurians may have existed, but the Angels and Saturnyne didn't.

3. The pre-wedding past in which the Doctor is on the other side of a crack and "rewinding." Maybe 1970s Earth was invaded every week by aliens and the Master, maybe not, but we know Earth survived because of this idea that we'll catch up to the same present, with or without the Doctor.

4. The post-dancing past in which the Doctor DID exist more or less as we saw him and Rory never died or became an Auton. I'm fine with the idea that he remembers these things, that they all do...but did they happen? The events of (say) "The Hungry Earth / Cold Blood" were mostly unaffected by the cracks, but the Angels were swallowed by one and the Saturnyne came through another. In THIS past, how did those events unfold? That's what I'm trying to figure out. Maybe the Doctor thought of something else in this version of history?

@The Science Pundit: I'm sure you're right -- I'll have to watch it again. I remembered getting the impression that he was no one really special to the Doctor, that the Time Lord envoy knew more about the Master than the Doctor did, and that's why the later lines about the Master's character seemed so odd to me -- but maybe I wasn't listening closely enough.

@mattbartley: As I said above I have no problem with Amy, Rory, and the Doctor remembering these events...it's a little magical, I guess, but clearly they do remember them. I'm wondering more about whether and how they happened!

@Supervoc7

4. The post-dancing past in which the Doctor DID exist more or less as we saw him and Rory never died or became an Auton. I'm fine with the idea that he remembers these things, that they all do...but did they happen? The events of (say) "The Hungry Earth / Cold Blood" were mostly unaffected by the cracks, but the Angels were swallowed by one and the Saturnyne came through another. In THIS past, how did those events unfold? That's what I'm trying to figure out. Maybe the Doctor thought of something else in this version of history?

Hmm, I'm thinking the first three episodes happened more or less the same way. There was no crack in Amy's wall, so there was no Prisoner Zero and no Atraxi and the Doctor didn't invite Amy along for exactly the same reason, but as a Timelord he is sensitive to alternate timelines, so he may have decided there was something odd about Amy anyway.

After Victory of the Daleks, since this version of Amy isn't as insecure, she doesn't make a pass at the Doctor so there is no need to grab Rory and they don't go to Venice - which is fine since the Saturnyne aren't there either. Amy's Choice could have played out the same way except with Rory being part of the illusion(s).

As for the Angels I agree he must have done something else - perhaps he was able to hold them off for longer using the extra soldiers that didn't vanish and
that gave him time to come up with something.

Hungry Earth and Cold Blood play out the same way except Rory isn't there so he doesn't get killed. As does Vincent And The Doctor where the only change is Amy doesn't cry. Ditto with The Lodger - the only change is no Engagement Ring.

None of the events in the last two episodes happened, since they're all tied to the exploding TARDIS. Maybe they just have a picnic next to the oldest words in the universe, which now say something infinitely more profound (like maybe "We apologise for the inconvenience" ;-)

OK, so it's not exactly on topic, but I got a laugh out of this blogpost's comparison between the plot holes on Doctor Who with the laughably unbelievable series "World War II" on the History Channel.

http://squid314.livejournal.com/275614.html

(found via Boing Boing - I know, I know I should get a life ...)

I think the point about a dramatic fizzle is well made. Big Bang may be dramatic and very enjoyable but it’s drama is entirely about rebooting the universe. Whereas the dramatic tension built up in the course of The Pandorica Opens was all about how would the Doctor escape from the Pandorica and oh dear Amy’s dead.

We therefore sit down to The Big Bang expecting a dramatic resolution to the previous week’s dramatic tension. And we don’t get one. We get a relatively quick solution (rather than resolution) which, although entertaining, is really little more than a quirk of temporal theory. Yes, it may be logical but it’s in no sense emotionally fulfilling.

And that's without even mentioning how spectacularly easy this inescapable prison is to open from the outside. Let's trap the Doctor forever in a prison which a child could open from the outside, locate that prison on a distant primitive world secured by two wooden gates and just keep our fingers crossed that no child finds it.

So, although I loved the Big Bang, I was still left with a vague sense of a anticlimax. Whereas, wonderful as the previous week’s cliffhanger was, if that cliffhanger had instead been, say, the revelation that, to save the universe, the Doctor would have to negate his own existence, then the Big Bang would have been a glorious climax to the season rather than just a glorious episode.

And I still can’t get my mind around the fact that, when Amy is woken up by her mother, her bedroom is still full of her Raggedy Doctor toys and pictures. If he never existed, then she never met him at age 7 so why are there still toys.

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June 30, 2010

Making it a good one

Doctor Who: The Big Bang

Review by Paul Kirkley

BB Amelia The Big Bang is very possibly the greatest episode of Doctor Who ever made. Here are 50 – count ’em! – reasons why:

He’s back – and it’s about time. No, it really is this time. It’s incredible how little this ancient TV show about a time traveller has actually exploited the fantastic, fairytale possibilities of time. This episode does its best to make up for half a century of neglect in 55 minutes.

We got a total story reboot. All those Dr Who Monster Book baddies gathered together at the end of last week’s episode was undoubtedly an OMG moment, but having them all standing around chatting and shuffling would inevitably have diminished everyone involved. As an idea, it peaked before it even got started, so it was the right decision to just let it go.

Instead, we got a brand new mystery for the young adventuress Amelia Pond - like getting a whole new bonus story when we were least expecting it.

A world without stars. Or the Doctor. I don’t know which is the more unthinkable.

The museum scenes have a real filmic quality to them. Beautifully shot by Toby Haynes and scored by Murray Gold in a manner that wouldn’t have disgraced Steven Spielberg and John Williams.

A stone Dalek. Uh-huh-u-huh, that’s pretty cool

“Okay kid – this is where it gets complicated.” Yep, you got me. Wasn’t expecting that.

Rory needs a ridiculous miracle, and he gets one: the Doctor, in a fez, with a mop. Given that the last time we saw our man he’d just been locked away for eternity by an alliance of all his greatest enemies, this sudden comic, vaudeville reappearance – with props - totally subverts our expectations.

“Echoes. Fossils in time. Footprints of the never were.” You never got this stuff with Robert Sloman, did you?

“Your girlfriend isn’t more important than the universe.” “She is to me.” Ouch, I felt that. Still, you go gallivanting around the universe with a jaw that big, you’re gonna have to take the occasional slug.

Rory’s vigil. The lonely centurion, performing one last act of devotion to the box he had pledged to protect for nearly 2,000 years. Now that’s what I call an epic fairytale.

It’s reassuring to know the Doctor only changes history for the most important of reasons. Like getting a little girl a drink.

It’s all jaunty, timey-wimey caper one minute and then, bang: there’s a dying Doctor from the future. Breathless – and breathlessly inventive –stuff.

Things you can do in 12 minutes: Suck a mint, buy a sledge, have a fast bath. See Sidney? This show’s still educational.

“Today, just dying is a result.”

BB Dalek The lone Dalek powering up in the darkness echoes the latent menace of 2005’s reputation-rescuing Dalek (you know, before before it was pissed away again in various camp runarounds)

The Doctor against the London skyline and the exploding sun-TARDIS burning up the sky: it’s the sort of shot that makes you feel justified in using poncy terms like mise en scene. See, I just did.

And then a Dalek rises up above the roofline. A decade ago, that would have been an iconic moment in itself. Here it seemed positively throwaway. I guess we’ve just got spoiled.

“It's a fez. I wear a fez now.”

The Doctor getting frazzled by the Dalek is still a shock, even with all the warnings we’ve had. Maybe I should have been keeping count.

“I’m River Song. Check your records again.” Blimey – we’ve come along way from that Dalek being Rose's new BF in series one, haven’t we? This one was petrified in more ways than one. And then it died.

Rebooting the universe: not so much jargon as anti-jargon, bringing the biggest Event of all down to the level of everyday Windows frustrations.

And for all its crazily epic scale, the idea that all you need is a few atoms to grow a universe is a very elegant sci-fi concept; after all, yer basic periodic table of elements provides all the building blocks you need. (Okay, so recreating a specific universe - stars, planets, Mr Kipling’s French Fancies and all - is a bit more tricky. But hey, it's still better than that bloody Paradox Machine, right?)

The Doctor in The Pandorica: so weak, so broken, so utterly defeated. Have we ever seen him this vulnerable before?

“He wants to talk to you before he goes.” It’s the “before he goes” that gets you: a deathbed farewell.

“Amy Pond. All alone. The girl who didn’t make sense. How could I resist?” How could anyone?

And

"You'll have your family back - you won't need your imaginary friend any more." As if.

And

“Nothing is ever forgotten.” This is what Michael Praed’s Robin Hood said just before he died. As a kid, it broke my heart. And so did this.

That kiss. We’ve had our fair share of Doctor-companion lip-lockery in recent years, but that tiny, chaste, blink-and-you-miss-it kiss to the back of the hand was the most beautiful by a mile.

“Geronimo!”

Look at the pain etched on the Doctor’s face as he pilots The Pandorica into the heart of the explosion. In the flying final sacrifice stakes, it beats even Davison’s heroic effort at the end of Androzani part 3. I have never feared for my hero more. If this had been his final end in the final ever episode, I wouldn’t have felt cheated.

Flashbacks: to Aickman Road and then, oh yes… the Byzantium. Hah! That jacket! It’s a measure of the quality of this show that we would immediately assume some clever timey-wimey trickery over a mere continuity blunder. And then be proved right.

Amelia asleep on her suitcase in the garden. The girl who waited.

And then, because Moffat is really spoiling us now, another impossibly lovely goodbye. “When you wake up, you’ll have a mum and dad.” Now that’s a Doctor with a bedside manner.

“You’ll dream about that box. It will never leave you. Brand new and ancient at the same time. And the bluest blue ever.” This was lump in the throat stuff, even before we knew it was clever coded message.

The Doctor shedding tears not for the loss of himself, but for the loss of his friend. And then the way his expression turns to real fear as he turns to look at the crack. “I don’t belong here any more.” It’s difficult to know in which of these Doctor-Amy farewells Matt Smith is more extraordinary. But if Tom Baker ever starts guffing on about “Well of course Doctor Who isn’t really an acting part…”, can someone bung a DVD of this in his gob? Cos, don’t get me wrong, I love Tom Baker – we all love Tom Baker - but there’s a lot more to playing this crazy, raggedy man in a box than the ability to walk through a door interestingly.

Twinkling lights in the sky: Amelia’s reward for wishing upon a star. Then the sun comes up and…

It’s Amy, all grown up. How many little surprises can one episode throw at us?

And Amy has a family. With a little tiny dad! In The Doctor Dances, everybody lived. Here, even people who were already dead get to live.

Amy the bride: how traffic-stoppingly beautiful does Karen Gillan look?

BB wedding 1 Something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue. But of course. With the benefit of hindsight, how else was this series ever going to end? If you didn’t cry or laugh out loud or punch the air at this point, you might want to ask yourself if you actually genuinely like Doctor Who. The most glorious, utterly transcendent moment in the show’s 47-year history? Today, at least, I’m saying, Hell yes.

“Raggedy man, I remember you and you are late for my wedding!” The tremble of glasses. The wind. A wheezing, groaning sound. And there it is: that iconic blue box. The bluest blue ever.

The Doc in his dapper new duds. “Hello everyone. I’m Amy’s imaginary friend. But I came anyway!”

The Doctor Dances. Really, really badly. (“That’s it, that’s good, keep it loose!”)

“2,000 years. The boy who waited. Good on you, mate.”

“Hang on, did you think I was asking you to marry me, or asking if you were married?” The wise and ancient hero who saved the universe. And still a little boy lost when it comes to women.

Who is River Song? We’re going to find out very soon. And she’s sorry, because that’s when everything changes. Ooh ’eck.

An Egyptian Goddess loose on the Orient Express. In Space. Somewhere in a parallel universe, Russell T Davies is still writing the Christmas specials…

But not in ours. In ours, Steven Moffat is the man with the power to make and break realities, to reboot universes and give little lost girls the gift of stars. He is the custodian of the greatest story ever told, with the greatest hero who ever lived, and died, and lived again. And in Matt Smith, he has found his perfect muse, and given us the perfect Doctor Who.

“I’ll be a story in your head. That’s okay – we’re all stories in the end. Just make it a good one, eh? Because it was, you know. It was the best.”

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So. In general I'm like "yeah...yeah...that was a good one all right...that one too." You listed a few head-scratchers, though.

"Echoes. Fossils in time. Footprints of the never were." You never got this stuff with Robert Sloman, did you?

Well, no, with Sloman you got verbs. For example: "I had to face my fear, Sarah. That was more important than just going on living." and "Not all spiders sit on the back." Maybe not as poetic, but certainly more useful in daily life. I take your general point, though.

The Doctor in The Pandorica: so weak, so broken, so utterly defeated. Have we ever seen him this vulnerable before?

Sure: he was Dobby in a cage a few years back, and he wasn't about to save the entire universe. At least here he's winning, even if it's at the cost of his life. But again, I take your point; it's a lovely scene.

If you didn’t cry or laugh out loud or punch the air at this point, you might want to ask yourself if you actually genuinely like Doctor Who.

I actually genuinely do, and once again...I take your point. It was a nice moment. What I actually genuinely hate is when people say "if you didn't love this as much as I did, you are not a *real* *fan*."

To give the counterpoint: the problem with that moment for me is that there was never the slightest doubt that it was coming. I got more of a jolt from the moment she sees the bow tie and suspenders on her wedding guests; then the moment is dragged out quite a bit. The time when this kind of triumphant return REALLY would have meant something for me was at the beginning of the episode, when I had every reason to doubt the Doctor was going to come out of the Pandorica unscathed and that there might be serious consequences to deal with. Instead we got the fez and the mop, so no triumph there.

Again, don't get me wrong. Nice moment, very clever with the wedding saying and all. I'm happy it moved you so much. I'm just...not a big air-puncher, I guess.

I like posting your reviews on my Facebook wall, Mr. Kirkley. I kinda feel like you enjoy things the same way I do, so they're always a fun read. Thanks.

If this had been his final end in the final ever episode, I wouldn’t have felt cheated.

I said the same thing in my own review - I can't say anything really bad about this episode, because when it comes down to it, if our show ever has to meet its final end, I want it the last episode to be just like the first 45 minutes of this.

On the other hand, this isn't the end of Doctor Who. More of a new beginning. So I don't know, were all the tearful farewells really appropriate? Given that we only got to believe in them for a few minutes before they were rescinded and we were on our way to adventures new. Our heartstrings were well and truly tugged, but it was just a stunt, wasn't it, because according to the RTD rulebook you've got to go big or you might as well go home.

I kind of feel that while this season was supremely enjoyable at every turn, it won't be remembered as a classic one. What did it introduce? Possibly the best Doctor yet, sure, and a companion with a REALLY complicated backstory. And then it expanded interestingly on the Moffat-motif of messing about with time... But beyond that? Its reinvention of not one but three classic races seems to have gone down like a lead balloon. Most of what else kinda sorta worked was RTDian NuWho-by-numbers.

I think what I'm trying to say is that, after an emotional rush the size of The Big Bang, there's a definite sense that Moffat needs to "follow THAT!" I'm hoping he's up to the task and that Season 6 makes Season 5 look like a trial run. If not, he's a great writer but he could end up paddling around in the shallows of his talent instead of giving us what he's REALLY capable of.

As a new 'who' fan to the 11th doctor's universe, I have really enjoyed reading the insightful reviews & discussions here. I don't have the critical expertise of those who have grown up with the doctor the past 40 years, but from my point of view these final 2 episodes have been some of the most poignant 2 hrs of entertainment I've had the pleasure of experiencing. I can't remember the last time that a show has evoked the gamut of emotions I felt as I watched 'The Big Bang'--from mysterious wonder & surprise, to laughing out loud, to heart thumping dread, to tears of sorrow, smiles, more tears of lament only to replace them with tears of joy, & more laughter. Geez not even the final episode of Lost after 6 seasons could encompass that entire range.

Full credit goes to the amazing performances of Matt & Karen as well as Arthur, Alex & Caitlin. This cast is just truly gifted with that quality of acting that makes it believable, natural, with so much said in the unsaid look, expression or gesture. Matt Smith is exceptional, & I can't take my eyes off his performance as the Doctor. Quixotic, charismatic, with ridiculously funny looks & gestures only masking true cleverness & ingenuity, & the ability to compose himself & take charge when needed. It's just genius.

I know so many fans have griped about the loss of David Tennant--well as someone who has since revisited the past episodes of the newer series, I think he was brilliant too & understand their attachment. But this is a show that has a built-in 'reset' button, the Doctor regenerates & fortunately for the 11th Doctor & his TARDIS everything else production-wise did too. I had seen past season episodes sporadically when it had aired on SyFy in the states, but I couldn't become fully engaged in it then like I have now with series 5. First impressions I remember liking DT as the Doctor, but thinking the plots seemed ridiculous. Maybe I could contribute that to the writing, or my general lack of 'who' knowledge at the time, but in giving a curious chance to 'The 11th hour' I was immediately hooked, & have now become too dangerously obsessed for my own good.

So I have to give kudos to everyone involved in this new production.The look of the show is cinematic & beautiful, especially the Adam Smith, Tony Haynes & Jonny Campbell directed episodes. & Steven Moffat has sucked me into his creative mind, making me beg for more. Certainly his episodes were brilliant, my favorites & his touch on the rest have made it a remarkable series. I have really enjoyed the character relationships & being able to journey through all of time & space with them. The more 'organic' approach to our TARDIS destinations throughout the season made them more real, more relatable, more intimate, & more threatening then some extravagant CG creations past seasons have relied upon for dramatic effect. Moffat seems to thrive on the Hitchcock approach to terror, keeping the suspense from the unseen or the simple. But I do look forward to the xmas special, something off-planet, in space, definitely desired.

I find it amusing that there is so much incessant debate over plot holes & improbabilities especially for 'The Pandorica Opens/The Big Bang,' when the nature of having time-jumping & universe hopping science fiction, gives way to those endless possibilities. What science fiction show doesn't? To me everything made close to perfect timey-wimey sense, especially with the universe collapsed around them, nothing but the earth & burning time-looped TARDIS, the Doctor had every ability to leap back & forth between his timelines. There wasn't anything left in the universe to govern that type of 'no no.' Although I did wonder how the freshly Pandorica escaped Doctor knew exactly when to jump ahead 2000 years in time before finishing his sentence to Auton-Rory about 'staying out of...trouble' to the exact point of finding Amy & Amelia about to be attacked by the rejuvenated Dalek. Dumb luck I suppose, but he should of at least written the lucky date on Amelia's brochure to make sure it all definitely went according to plan. Although it is improbable that the burning TARDIS could heat & light the earth properly that life would grow up more-or-less the same for Amelia to exist, & that the Doctor would even know that or that his TARDIS survived in proximity to earth, though not close enough to Stonehenge to illuminate the sky when the stars all went out while he was trapped in the Pandorica. But the Doctor is a genius, & we can't always know what is going on in his head, hence 'eye of the storm' & running to the roof in the 1st place. I also wondered why the TARDIS survived 2000 yrs without completely destructing, however I realized that rescuing River broke the time-lock loop & sped up its demise. Eh, so we had to stretch our imagination a bit, but the whole sequence was clever & fez-a-licious funny that does it really matter in the end?

As for the easy open Pandorica, well, it was designed to prevent it's prisoner inside from escaping. The Doctor told Amy he could get inside easy enough when he was 1st examining it, he just wanted to know what he'd find find 1st. I think the key though is that the box opened when touched by its intended prisoner or prisoner, for the Doctor & then Amy/Amelia. I suspect then the Doctor used some kind of 'Doctor DNA" setting on his screwdriver for Rory. And maybe all those tools & gizmos he was using to examine it from the outside gave him a reading about it being a life-perserving box--'forces you to stay alive, can't even escape by dying'--for the Doctor to indefinitely suffer for all of time knowing that all his enemies trapped him there. It's intricate exterior circles were of dalek design seen in the ship in 'Victory of the Daleks' & they obviously had regenerative capabilities then. So throw a life-perserving box in with the thing that destroyed all of life in the universe by exploding & we get an imploding creation, why not?

But none of this wibbley-wobbley stuff was really the heart of the show. It was the heart & soul--love & sacrifice, death & resurrection. It's shown in every relationship between our characters. Amy was sacrificed, albeit, unwilling by her love who then despairingly dreamed of a miracle...out pops the Doctor with hope of a future. With Amy inside the Pandorica, she becomes Hope preserved. Like Pandora's myth, Amy is Hope for the universe. Auton-Rory's sacrifice to guard her for 2000 yrs came with the hope she may live to forgive him & help him be human, like Pinocchio, a 'real boy.'

I think that's a touching scene with Rory & the Doctor, in which the Doctor, after episodes of male competition & even Rory's own human sacrifice in death to save him, the Doctor truly sees & is touched by Rory's heart & soul even in his plastic state.

We also have River, who still very mysterious & questionable, does what she does in love for the Doctor. She watches her love, who doesn't really know her yet, sacrifice himself so that he never will, for now, but we know that one day the roles will be reversed, or will it? Time can be rewritten...

And of course Amy & the Doctor, a love formed through friendship, respect, like brother & sister but with a hint of closer intimacy. Inherently intertwined into each other's lives, each one dependent on the other in this cracked & disappearing world.

The sacrifice of the Doctor, can it be more symbolically Christ-like? Initially dragged to his 'death' by the Roman guard while the crowd of enemies watched in 'The Pandorica Opens.' 'The Big Bang' brought him full circle. His dying future self whispers his fate as he accepts what's to come & is forced to play out the role that tortures him at the hands of his Dalek enemy, & brings him to bear the weight of the universe as his friends watched. It's fate & salvation remains with his self-sacrifice & his TARDIS, the only hope to repair the universe he loves so much. And Amy, the Doctor's link, the Doctor's hope for him & his bluest blue box to live on in her memory, or as by a miracle bring him back. That scene between them, how can their performances not bring tears to your eyes? Even more emotionally powerful is that last scene with the sad, old, tired Doctor & Amelia as he clings to the last hope she can remember this bedtime story & resurrect his memory.

So Amy does, she resurrects them all, even those she's forgotten. Steven Moffat I will never look at the old wedding saying the same again! GENUIS! And there is the dashing Doctor commanding & humbled. And again a lot of laughs as that crazy embarrassing uncle that you can't help but laugh at as he scoots across the dance floor with his own 'cool' moves. And then it continues with the Doctor, reflective about 'the boy who waited' for the 'girl who waited' & that smile fades as he realizes their happiness only brings him pain as he will continue his journey without them...or will he? And then, yet another brilliant scene with River, oh the Doctor & his women! Whoa, you can't argue against Matt Smith's astounding ability to capture all of this entire episode fantastically.

River Song is certainly something even more enigmatic, how did she remember the Doctor to give Amy her blank diary? Did she end up on earth after the big bang? The Doctor gave her back the vortex manipulator, which he had as his timeline erased. So maybe she was there all along on that date, because the Doctor showed it to her from his readings of the crack in the Byzantium. But no wait, River 'remembers the Pandorica well' then when in handcuffs, so she does a hell of a job masking the fact she already knows what the cracks are during the rest of the weeping angel adventure, & yet she knows what they were back then before the Big Bang 2. Hmmm I hope Steven Moffat has this whole thing straight. Can't wait to learn more of her story. I think it will be an interesting dynamic with the Doctor & Mr. & Mrs. Pond with Rory's new found sense of adventure & confidence. Gives me hope that I can be grown up, but not always have to loose the fun.

'The big bang' made a delightful emotionally satisfying bookend to the season stories, but I'm curious what direction we'll head next. Maybe we'll even find our missing ducks. Here's to 'the silence' ramping up a few more decimals in our who-universe!

Wait, wait: You need the third part of that line, which i've been quoting nearly incessantly for no good reason but to get the giggles. The quote is properly:

"It's a fez. I wear a fez now. Fezzes are cool."

I know the finale left some people cold and some of them have given well-articulated reasons why that should be, but it didn't me and this post has many of the reasons for that.

So thanks for putting that feeling into more words than "F*** YES!"

Possibly greatest ep ever? Seriously?! That Back To The Future 2-style final episode undermined Doctor Who's whole premise. So now the Doctor can cross his own time line fairly easily and save his past self from danger? Way to kill any suspense in future episodes.

And...yes, it's about time. The time spent watching 13 episodes this year to then basically have no answer to who was behind the whole "silence will fall" story arc? It will be revealed next year?! Ever get the feeling you've been cheated?...

On the plus side, Matt Smith is brilliant. Fast becoming best Doctor ever.

the greatest hero who ever lived, and died, and lived again

Careful..!

"So now the Doctor can cross his own time line fairly easily and save his past self from danger? Way to kill any suspense in future episodes."

In fairness to the episode, there was a least a throw-away line to the effect that he could do it safely because the universe is so small now (and I think another that the vortex manipulator is bad for him). So it doesn't follow from these events that he'll be time-hopping around to solve all his future problems. Though I agree that it felt a little bit like a cheat anyway. Still, it was so much fun I can't complain.

Yikes! Well, glad somebody liked it.

As for me, it didn't answer/resolve/redeem any (or at least, enough) of the questions or problems I had with the previous 12 episodes. And yeah, I do like Doctor Who - I've faithfully watched every episode of the show from Hartnell onward, and this is easily the least enjoyable season so far. Yes, that even counts the Colin Baker and Sylvester McCoy years. Assuming a "real" fan is one who loves whatever the incumbent reviewer does is tantamount to my saying that people who like the NuNuNu-Who must be idiots who are prepared to love anything Steven Moffat says they should because he is their god and they are happy to mindlessly genuflect at every mention of his holy name. Neither of which positions actually explains anybody's opinion about the show in general, or this episode in particular.

I've found that those people who believe stuff like Karen Gillan can really act and that Amy is a complex, interesting, likeable character, and that Steve Moffat is the most cleverest guy to ever write for television, are getting a lot more out of this show now than I am, sadly for me. I envy them the ability to see what patently appears to be missing from my POV. But there is no disputing the fact that someone thought Mr. Moffat should be allowed to make the decisions for this show, and we must all live with the consequences, for better or worse. If he chooses to ignore what's gone before and re-create canon, we have to accept that. Or move on to other things.

Well, Matt Smith and Arthur Darvill will be enough to make me tune in at Christmas, but the glow has finally dimmed to near-invisibility for me, and I'm grieving about it right now. Still, next year might be better, and I'll give it a chance.

I wasn't intending to start a fan pissing contest - I'm not sure where this thing about being a "real" fan came from. I raised the question of whether people actually ENJOY watching Doctor Who, which is a different matter entirely; it seems like a lot of "real" fans are the only people who don't these days... I will say this, though: personal taste is one thing, but preferring The Trial of a Time Lord to this year's series is just weird: like saying Home and Away is better than The Godfather and then asking people to respect your opinion anyway.

Finally have to say something since someone decided to bring McCoy into this. :)
1) About re-creating canon: Isn't this a tried and true DW writing tradition? In fact, I think ignoring whatever happened before and writing a damn fine story is pretty much what's been happening all along. I mean . . . static electricity, man, static electricity!!
2) Some eras are a person's cup of tea and some aren't. Let's get over that and appreciate what we have. As for me, while I love Peter Davison as the Doctor, I find his entire era (with the exception of the Mara stories, Enlightenment, and Androzani) to be mind-numbingly boring. (I believe I just committed fan heresy by admitting that I hate Castrovalva. Filthy JNT, he takess away our Tom just when he was starting to act again. We hatess him, preciouss, hatess him forever.) On the other hand, I absolutely love McCoy's era, which, has fewer episodes I hate than there are Davison eps I actually like.
There, now you can all stop hating on Moffatness/Anti-Moffatness and get back to the core of Whovian hatred . . . McCoy fans. :)

Paul you said in your review:
"The Big Bang is very possibly the greatest episode of Doctor Who ever made."

I would agree with that, (as to why, my thoughts are more detailed in my review -
click here for the planetzogblog review of The Big Bang.)

I like how you've woven the Doctor speaking about stories - "Just make it a good one, eh? Because it was, you know. It was the best” - into that start (and end) of your review.

(I also mention that line in my review though to illustrate something quite different.)

What makes these 55 minutes (very possibly) "the best" is that those minutes are chock-full of scenes that are hugely emotional, scenes that feature intricate plotting that all makes a satisfying science fiction kind of sense (which also reflect the themes of the season), and each of these scenes are brilliant. Select just about any scene and it could be argued it's one of the all-time great Doctor Who scenes. All these scenes together means the ep is utterly superb.

"I've found that those people who believe stuff like Karen Gillan can really act and that Amy is a complex, interesting, likeable character... are getting a lot more out of this show now than I am, sadly for me".

Too bad for you. Amy has a well thought-out story arc that's been deceptively subtle. This is the girl who didn't make sense. The girl whose entire life and family have been eaten away by the crack in time with her none the wiser. The girl who cries without knowing why. So in retrospect it follows that she appears cynical and even unlikable earlier in the series. It's telling that the final shot of the whole series is not of The Doctor, but of a relaxed and happy Amy, her life restored smiling in the Tardis.

I'm enjoying it this year, but I'm sad to see the Moffat fans reverting to some of the zealousness of the RTD fans - that if people don't like it then they just don't get it or that they're just being contrary and that the series has moved on and if they don't like it they should just stop watching.

So far, though, the RTD fans are still in the lead for the title of objectionable Who fans - and continue to be in their hatred for the current run.

I just want to say that I appreciate everyone who takes the time to write reviews for Behind the Sofa. I've come here religiously to read the reviews since the third series/season. They are well written, funny, and offer intelligent insights that sometimes make me view an episode in a whole different light. While I certainly don't agree with every review on here (I still cannot BELIEVE that none of you utterly BLASTED The End of Time! WTF? ), I am glad that they are there for me to read. I had exactly the opposite reaction to Neil Perryman's when watching Vincent and the Doctor, but I'd be a fool not to see that Neil nevertheless made valid points, and it was a shame that so much of the criticism against his review started to edge a little too much toward the personal. So, please keep it up, guys. Behind the Sofa strikes a perfect balance, as far as I'm concerned. I do miss Jo Anne Thrax's reviews though!

I noted the same thing about the final shot of the sereis: Amy's smile — an unguarded look of sheer happiness and contentment, the likes of which we have not seen from Amy (or even little Amelia) throughout the series until this point.

It's saddening that every season/story seemingly has to be "one of the best ever" or "one of the worst ever", at least in the context of posting one's thoughts on a public forum. I was shocked at the time at the amount of vitriol unleashed on Victory of the Daleks, which clearly is not "one of the best ever" stories... but to this day I have zero comprehension of why a fun little episode like that should have generated so much rage.

Season 31 fails to be "one of the best ever" seasons in my opinion, because really, what does it add to the mythos, it's a whole lot of more of the same (albeit with a brilliant Doctorial debut and plenty of genius Moffatian dialogue). But there's a big gulf between that and "WORST. SEASON. EVER". What does it take to just pleasantly entertain some people?

@Caboodle: I'm curious to know what crimes against canon you feel this season committed, and in particular how they could be worse than those committed by, say, "The End of Time" alone.

@Paul Kirkley: I feel the need to say that while I don't always feel the enthusiasm you do for specific episodes, I really enjoy reading your reviews and this was no exception. I think people "enjoy" shows in different ways; I would never waste time criticizing a show I didn't enjoy. :)

@Matthew: "Victory of the Daleks" had the unfortunate task of following two rather good, imaginative, and at times spectacular stories that were setting the tone for a new Doctor and new showrunner and not being anywhere near up to it. I'm down for "fun little episodes" any day but it didn't even work on that level for me. That said, I can't say it generated any "rage" for me. As for what this season added to the mythos: I'm crossing my fingers that we'll find out next season that the universal "reboot" changed a few things along the way.

I'm not going to bother writing a long detailed comment about how much I loved this program, or the entire series for that matter because you've done it so eloquently. I just wanted to say thanks for the GREAT review, thanks for being someone that adores this program as much as I do, and thanks for making my day. I've read way too many reviews, posts, and long drawn out negative remarks about this series, and this episode that I got tired of reading them. FINALLY someone who actually got it. Write on!

"It’s a measure of the quality of this show that we would immediately assume some clever timey-wimey trickery over a mere continuity blunder. And then be proved right."

Very well put.

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June 28, 2010

Get Me To The Church On Time

Doctor Who: The Pandorica Opens / The Big Bang
Review by Frank Collins

Po2a I'm not sure that experience of working on Spielberg's version of Tin Tin has rubbed off on Moffat that well. The Pandorica Opens more or less amounts to a gene-splicing of the Devil's Tower sequences of Close Encounters and the catacomb exploring of the Indiana Jones films and looks very pretty but I'm not convinced on this evidence he can do 'epic' in Doctor Who. The narratives that hold these glossy visual spectacles together are really what Moffat is interested in. The rest is a bit tokenistic. The two part story that concludes with The Big Bang also reflects an ancient literary tradition that you could say Spielberg himself has deliberately woven into many of his major films. It falls into the tradition of menippea - a form of satire that signifies a mixed, often discontinuous way of writing that draws upon distinct, multiple traditions. Both The Pandorica Opens and The Big Bang act as reflections of each other, at once proposing an anti-epic visual presentation in counter-point to an epic narrative.

From the sky full of spaceships above Stonehenge to the alliance of monsters with their rather ridiculously contrived plan to trap the Doctor in the Pandorica, Moffat turns the whole thing on its head and in The Big Bang simply has four people chasing around a museum whilst the universe shrinks outside the window and the Doctor cheats willfully with the time lines, bouncing around like a deranged cosmic Tommy Cooper. Bakhtin regarded menippea as 'the use of the fantastic internally motivated by the urge to create extraordinary situations for the testing of philosophical ideas'. Which sums up the finale for me and Moffat's own view of the entire Doctor Who series synthesised into a carnivalesque ambivalence for logic, an irreverent desire to break the rules and to cross boundaries. Sometimes it works spectacularly - not just in terms of visual spectacle but also in narrative complexity - and sometimes it's a way for him to cheat, avoid the implications of what he's done and refuse to answer questions left dangling by the preceding 11 episodes.

Po5d Thus we get no real answers to who was saying 'silence will fall', why the TARDIS was exploding and a reasoning for Amy's 'special' status. And presumably the missing ducks from the Leadworth duck pond ended up on the other side of the crack in time. Moffat knows his game and in the opening sequence with Vincent in 1890 he's clearly sending himself up rotten when the neighbour attending with the doctor looks at the painting of the exploding TARDIS and mutters, 'Look at this, even worse than his usual rubbish'.

Moffat's end game with this finale is to focus in on the triangular relationship between Amy Pond, the Doctor and Rory Williams. The messages carried through time via Van Gogh's painting, Churchill's telephone call, Liz Ten's meeting with River after she has broken out of the Stormcage facility are simply a means to an end whilst also cleverly rewarding the patient viewer with the pleasure of recognition in these pre-titles revisitations. They throw out a number of questions that in typical Moffat style aren't likely to be answered - why is Liz Ten still alive in 5154 and why is Bracewell still working for Churchill when it was more than suggested at the end of Victory Of The Daleks that he was off in search of his true love, Dorabella. These are, like many other sequences in the story, narrative conceits.

The Pandorica Opens is in effect one massive conceit. The significance of the Pandorica and the exploding TARDIS drive the story but in the end we never really discover the answer to the latter and the former is inevitably not what it seems with much of the episode heavily signposting the fact that it's a prison cell into which the Doctor is dumped by his enemies and not the home of an ultimate 'big bad'. The most effective twist in The Pandorica Opens is the resurrection of Rory, presumed erased from history at the end of Cold Blood. His reappearance is another layer to the series themes about 'remembering' and 'forgetting' and, significantly, he isn't the real Rory but a facsimile, a memory of Rory, created by the Nestenes. They presumably replaced the real Rory who did die at the end of Cold Blood. Or was he an Auton right from his introduction in The Eleventh Hour, then destroyed in Cold Blood, and then resurrected in The Pandorica Opens? It is narrative obfuscations such as these that Moffat deliberately ignores or refuses to clarify.

Bb2e Rory is that most human of non-humans, embodying the crisis of subjectivity at the heart of this revelation. He struggles with his Nestene programming and conflicting human emotions, just as Amy evoked the same contradictions in the Dalek's android Bracewell back in 1941, to reaffirm his love for Amy, only to then destroy the object of his feelings. That this death takes place simultaneously with the Doctor's capture and imprisonment in the Pandorica, the destruction of the TARDIS and the death of the universe offers the spectacle a much needed emotional grounding. Rory's non-human status and his subsequent murder of Amy is the single most powerful scene in The Pandorica Opens and legitimises what is in effect a Doctor Who episode that resembles a Busby Berkeley tap routine performed by a sweating Steven Moffat sporting a fixed grin. It's hard to be 'epic'.

Moffat uses such conceits to again fuel the narrative expectation in The Big Bang where the audience is given a linear narrative - of the Doctor escaping from the Pandorica and the dead - now alive - Amy taking his place - that is broken into non-linear and often repetitive moments of recall, planting visual and verbal information about scenes that haven't happened but will happen or that have happened and we don't know why they have until the explanation appears further along the narrative. He's testing our ideas about time and the use of empirical and metaphysical paradoxes in the science fiction genre. For me, however amusing it is, and - in the way Matt Smith performs these sequences - it is, it really amounts to more grandstanding, including the revitalisation of the Dalek as a token monster to chase our heroes down corridors, that delays the story getting to the roof of the museum and the ultimate fate of the Doctor, the Pandorica and the TARDIS.

Po1b What's more interesting in the story are the binary oppositions between men and women. Amy truly is the fairy tale figure of the mysterious Little Red Riding Hood that the series has been constructed around. She is not only the absent woman in search of her self, her journey starting as a girl, the adorable Caitlin Blackwood returning as the younger Amy, and continuing through to impending womanhood and that wedding but the story is itself a science fiction satire about getting the bride to the church on time, about getting the adolescent Amy married off.

Typically, the finale also underlines of some of the problems I've been having with this series. Firstly, the series as a whole has evidently suffered from a cut in budget. This is unfortunate because television is such a visual medium these days and you need to spend money on it to engage audiences. Otherwise, you might as well do all this on the radio and, oddly, a great deal of The Big Bang might as well have gone out as an Afternoon Play on Radio 4. No matter how much of a clever clogs Moffat is, he can't just rely on characters running around a museum engaging in time travel screw-ball comedy to define the nature of the threat to the audience. The difference here to Series Three or Four, for example, is the inward and insular way Series Five has been structured around Amy and the Doctor, including the world in which these characters are seen to exist and the way they counter the threats to this world.

There is less show and more tell in many of the scripts with, I'd argue, only The Time Of Angels/Flesh and Stone really achieving the winning mix of the epic and the personal that uses the visual medium of television well.  There are undoubtedly instances where location filming abroad has paid off, as in the Vampires Of Venice and Vincent And The Doctor, and the threats have been placed on a broader canvas (unlike the exploding TARDIS which is only ever seen on a canvas). On the whole I get a sense that the world building that's so necessary for a high concept series like Doctor Who is being presented to us in shorthand.

Bb8h If you look at The Pandorica Opens the money has clearly been spent on the Stonehenge locations and the visual effects. By the time we get to The Big Bang the Stonehenge location is gone as is the visual misdirection of the massing alliance space fleet and what was indicated as threat has, ironically enough, become as fossilised as the remaining Daleks (no doubt another addition to the Character Options range). The Big Bang tells us about the threat to the universe but never actually reveals why it is there in the first place, why it is happening and who caused it. It's an unsatisfying finale because we never have a 'big bad' on which to pin the focus of the story. That conflict is absent and the Doctor spends most of The Big Bang fire-fighting whilst Moffat brings the story of Amy full circle.

Much of the series has therefore been set within a self-referential bubble, with the effects of conflict on those outside that bubble all happening off screen. We're told about the consequences from the Doctor, Amy and Rory but we never really see it actually affecting other people. As the TARDIS burns itself out we get the barest indication through dialogue that Richard Dawkins is slightly concerned about the shrinking of history and the lack of stars in the sky. These are powerful concepts that Moffat is creating but I keep feeling I'm being placed at a distance from them and I am only allowed to hear about them, never mind see them, through Amy or Rory. You have to have very strong, very identifiable supporting characters to be able to pull that switch from the broadest to the narrowest world view and to convince an audience that the apocalypse is mostly taking place off screen.

Although RTD's use of his characters families and the extended repertoire of supporting characters in Harriet Jones, Captain Jack et al might be seen as too much a reflection of soap opera, the audience accepted that world view because of its familiarity and because the conflict between the Doctor and the villain of the week was often staged on screen in familiar surroundings, often showing us the consequences. In the end we are left only with Amy and Rory as the audience identification figures and there isn't enough context to care about the threat to them and to us, as the audience. I've stopped caring, to be honest, because the series won't let me care.

Tbb1j Secondly, try as I do, but I don't much like Amy. I find her a rather unsympathetic character. It culminates with her finally waking up on her wedding day and getting married. How do we accept that Amy then casually waves goodbye to parents that she's desperately fought to bring back into existence, and who occupy a minimum of screen time, as she and Rory abruptly leave in the TARDIS. We don't even see them wave back! After all the reunions, I find it rather callous of her to reject that new world with her parents in it, and after restoring the Doctor through the power of suggestion, to spend her honeymoon with him in the TARDIS. Has this woman an obsession about younger, father figures?

I'm afraid there's a whiff of a straight male fantasy (the kissogram's a bit of dead giveaway) deliberately being projected onto the character possibly as as an extension to Moffat's own fantasies of a woman who doles out a form of sadomasochism to the men in her life. Moffat and Moffat's analog, Rory, bask in the power of a strong, controlling woman. Amy as the idealised woman, ironically, may both evoke in them the feelings of safety and protection associated with childhood and likewise from which Rory, and by extension Moffat, may derive satisfaction from earning the approval of that figure. Very much a case of bringing yourself to what you write I think.

Amy spends a lot of time belittling both the Doctor and Rory, trying to dominate and to an extent emasculate them (her attempt to seduce the Doctor is clearly an extension of that but he's strong enough to reject it) and it is very telling when, at the wedding reception, the Doctor congratulates Rory with, 'From now on I shall be leaving the kissing duties to the brand new Mr. Pond' after Amy has ordered the Doctor to 'kiss the bride'. Here, the Doctor firmly rejects her dominance but also confirms that Rory is no longer Rory Williams but Rory Pond. 'No, I'm not Mr. Pond. That's not how it works.' 'Yeah it is' confirms the Doctor with Rory's status underlined as victim of his own self-defeating personality disorder.

Bb5f Rory is for me the best thing about The Pandorica Opens and The Big Bang. As I said, he's the Moffat analog and in being such is a far more humane character, even when he's an Auton, than the horribly idealised Amy Pond. This is the plastic man that hangs around for 2000 years protecting the Pandorica, marries the woman inside it and settles down to a life of hen-pecking in the TARDIS. He's a man who engages in excessive self sacrifice in order to get a response from the woman who allegedly loves him and then happily takes the humiliation from Amy when he is reluctant to find any pleasure in all the dangers that travelling in the TARDIS throws at him. He's a deeply flawed man whom most of us can relate to - 'the boy who waited' guarding the gift of hope in the Pandorica (definitely symbolically similar to Pandora's box itself) and who then emerges into manhood.

The finale is flawed, lacking a really decent conflict between the Doctor and whoever it is that caused the TARDIS to explode and told us 'silence will fall', but they are good, solid and entertaining episodes. The scripts are witty and full of life even if Moffat plunges into self-indulgence in The Big Bang. The death of Amy at Rory's hand, literally, is the pinnacle of The Pandorica Opens whilst the allegedly show stopping gathering of the alliance of monsters is just a sop to keep the kids happy (and bearing in mind my thoughts about the budgetary necessities of the anti-epic, how must they have been disappointed to find it all reduced to one pathetic Dalek screeching for mercy in The Big Bang?).

The Big Bang is more satisfying emotionally with it being the conclusion of the series long Amy arc. The stand out scene between the Doctor and Amy, the conversation with her as he prepares to hurtle into the heart of the burning TARDIS, is one of the best of the series. It adds the full stop to the whole series subtext about 'remembering' and 'forgetting' that has been drip fed into stories from the beginning and the notion that the Pandorica ultimately symbolises hope after both forgetting and remembering, much as in the ancient story of Pandora, even if it does stray rather too close to a big reset button.

Bb9i Moffat's story arc, in which all of history is erased and then rebooted, in which the very act of remembering is a macrocosmic event (the key to saving the universe) -  and a microcosmic event (bringing back your long vanished parents) is surprise, surprise a main tenet in fairy tales. Amy's Red Riding Hood journey through time, symbolised very powerfully in the forest scenes in Flesh And Stone, is one about avoiding the threat of being devoured wherein the hungry wolf of the old fairy tale is now the crack in the bedroom wall. But like many readings of fairy tales, is this also a story about a girl's desperate avoidance of womanhood, her impending marriage to Rory, and to remain a child by jumping aboard the TARDIS to avoid the predations of the wolf (Rory and the crack in time)? Might this explain her defensiveness to Rory in some of the earlier stories?

The interesting thing about Red Riding Hood and other fairy tales is that they are concerned with the control of women, the control of desire. Amy as a Red Riding Hood princess whose final trajectory is marriage is a fascinating reading of a transgressive woman, acting on her own desires but who in the end must be rescued by two friendly male figures - Rory and the Doctor - the husband and the father. River, cycling through a number of identities and appearances - from earth mother to seductress - is positioned here as a trickster heroine and as literally, the figure of the old wive's tale, the woman as storyteller and an analog to Scheherazade, as one who spins her narrative ('spoilers') throughout the Doctor's timeline. Plus, of course, she's his wife and by extension she's symbolically Amy's wicked stepmother.

Bb6g As ever, Matt Smith completely steals the show and is particularly impressive in The Big Bang, giving us a mesmerising range of performances within one episode, capturing ancient wisdom and youthful recklessness in one big eccentric package. He truly is the biggest success of what I think has been a fairly middling series this year and remains the sole reason for continuing to watch the show. I have no problem with Karen Gillan's abilities but I'm hoping that now we've got Amy married off the character will acquire some warmth and sensitivity. The themes in this year's series about the journey from childhood to womanhood didn't quite make it across in the performances until the very end of the series. Less flippancy and that awful shouty emphasis she puts on the ends of certain line readings would also help. But when she's good she's very good.

I'm very pleased that Rory appears to have permanently joined the crew. He is the 'everyman' figure that the series must hold on to and Arthur Darvill is completely charming in the role. Now all we need are better monsters (the new Daleks and Silurians were design disasters in my opinion), decent scares and better realised worlds as a context for the journeys the Doctor, Amy and Rory go on.

Until Christmas then...

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To be fair to Moffat, in the DWC, he did say that he intentionally left The Silence unresolved as that will be the overarching theme for next season.

When the Doctor unravels, he speaks to Amy aged 7 whilst she sleeps. He says that when she wakes up, she'll have a mum and a dad.

So when Amy wakes up on the morning of her wedding, she's had her parents for years. So I suspect we're meant to take in the idea that she's grown closer to them and everything within the unseen years before the Doctor comes back.

However, the way it was presented on screen does make it look like she took them for granted.

Yeah, it's not explained properly but the way I read it is that Amy wakes up aged 7 and has a mum and dad. Then we see Amy wake up aged 21 where she just thinks she's not got a mum and dad for a bit - like waking from a weird dream. So she, er, always had a mum and dad. I think.

Could someone just clarify one thing for me. In the Eleventh Hour, we saw in the background (framed in the doorway) some adult human shape running past. At the house of Amy. It was a silhouette, as such it couldn't be identified.

I believe it happened when young Amy ran out to sit outside and wait for the Doc. I have heard people say it was the Doctor revisiting his time stream, except we didn't see this correlated in 'The Big Bang'.

I first thought it was Prisoner Zero but could it be related to the burn marks that Professor Song spotted in 'The Pandorica Opens'?

Or am I talking total gumph? Good review Frank, and my apologies to throw a random question in the middle of the comments.

Excellent review, as ever, Frank.

Add to the plot strands left hanging (and I'm not trying to over-analyse the episode, or the series... with due deference here to Stuart's comparison with over-analysing Hamlet... it is just a TV show. But it's something that I thought while watching... a bump in the road when my disbelief was briefly unsuspended)... the date.

What was or is significant about 26.06.10, again?

I suppose it's the wedding?

Or is the creepy voice Fabio Capello? (River is a time-hopping future WAG trying to avert catastrophe?)

Sometimes it works spectacularly - not just in terms of visual spectacle but also in narrative complexity - and sometimes it's a way for him to cheat, avoid the implications of what he's done and refuse to answer questions left dangling by the preceding 11 episodes.

I had more problems with another Speilbergian (or - more often - Lucasian) motiff, which is unnecessarily duplicated macguffins. (Two attacks on the partially rebuilt Death Star are better than one for your afterthought of a sequel, etc).

What was driving the plot in the end? The "if you remember it, they will come (back)" idea? Or the microcosm / macrocosm "Pandorica contains the stuff from Big Bang 1.0, so add exploding TARDIS = resurrection device and Universe 1.1" doodad?

(And how does this now explain the Cyberking? Did that happen in the collapsing, starless reality of Amy's memory, with its conspicuous absence of Dalek invasions?)

Given that Moff has explained apparently unreton-able continuity errors previously as "ripples from the Time War" - and presumably he's not doing Time War anymore - the Pandorica amounts to a giant, stealth reboot button.

The technology is the product of an interstellar UN. So when future plot holes emerge it can be conveniently blamed on the Weevils being on shift that day they were building their prison-cum-handy cosmic progenitor device.

(Moffat does like his DNA-arcs. The Dalek one that was activated by the correct ID being presented. The sister who turned out to be the mother of the Empty Child fixing all the corrupted DNA. Young Amy fixing old Amy... Devices fix physical errors in the fabric of identity. Memories are plot devices... Ergo, stories fix worlds and people. Is that how two macguffins amount to one?)

I am only at variance to your review when it comes to tying up all the strands. I quite like the David Chase approach to The Sopranos, stubbornly refusing to explain everything at the end, leaving room for the viewer to imagine other outcomes and stories... but I think you're right in saying:

Much of the series has therefore been set within a self-referential bubble, with the effects of conflict on those outside that bubble all happening off screen.

I really wanted to see the moment they emerged from the Socratic cave and saw stars that weren't going anywhere soon. (In fact I was expecting that the 3D trailer was going to end up as the post-script, as rebooted Amy meets the Doctor all over again...)

I also agree that:

"there's a whiff of a straight male fantasy (the kissogram's a bit of dead giveaway) deliberately being projected onto the character possibly as as an extension to Moffat's own fantasies of a woman who doles out a form of sadomasochism to the men in her life."

I had been worried that Moff's era would mark a regression to an FHM-take on female companions, and that worry lingers at the end of the series. But even when Matt Smith went on Jonathan Ross and described Karen as a "10", his awkward, stilted and immediately regretful delivery demonstrated how uneasily that sits with the show, the character and - I would expect - him as a person. The Doctor's a gent. Moff I'm still not sure about.

I never thought I'd say this but - in this sole respect - I miss all RTD's yummy mums and salt-of-the-earth-members-of-ethic-minorities with chops for dinner.

Still, if RTD had written this finale Matt Smith with bleeding legs would have been hurled at the burning TARDIS / Sun from a special, time-looped Cyber-catapault... And the Universe would have taken a quarter of an hour to die while an openly bi character played by Melvyn Hayes slowly re-enacted the preceding series with hand puppets for some kiddies. And they all chanted "Doctor" just as he bought it.

It wasn't shite, I liked the stuff with the fez and that'll do for me.

Thanks for introducing me to Bakhtin's menippea definition... you learn something new every day.

Right. As I understood it, all the Universe wiping-out and rebooting was being applied to every moment simultaneously (redundantly?). This notion that the TARDIS explosion "happened on" 26 June must mean something in some imperceptibly abstracted Time Lord sense...

Come to think of it, though we had "hope" (in the form of the Doctor) the bit of the Pandora myth that was missing was all the nasties previously unknown to man.

Could it be that if Amy remembers other exiled / retconed- out-of-existence baddies (i.e.: Omega), they miraculously reappear too?

The wedding date is significant as a cosmic restore point, significant only to the nasties that had, previously, been deleted from reality?

Actually, forget what I just said. I felt a great disturbance, as if thousands of plot points imagined on Gallifery Base suddenly cried out and were suddenly silenced.

Thank you, Frank, as always.

I don't always agree with you on your opinion of Amy, being a girl and seeing it somewhat differently, but your unpacking of this episode and her part in it is on point.

From a pure enjoyment point of view (and being now less of a fangirl than I was in my early teens), this two-parter blew my socks off. I don't care about plot holes (and they gape), I don't care about threads left hanging (and they are wafting out there), all I care about is was it a rollicking good bit of TV (and it SO was).

Stephen Moffat IS a good writer and he has got a bevy of excellent young actors as well as some great old hands and some very good writers of the genre to take the next season and run with it. To a certain extent, I do see this series as the reboot described. Yes, there were average episodes, but there were more good ones than not and most of them from Moffat's pen. Yes, Amy's character was more stool pigeon than active companion, but that will hopefully be sorted out in short order in the next series.

I think (and hope) that Moffat is thinking long term for his tenure as senior writer and the stories he has planted in the fertile soils of our imaginations during this series will all provide delectable fruit in series to come.

Once again, thank you for the review...looking forward to Christmas already!

Another thing that doesn't make sense about the alliance between the Doctor's enemies is that they didn't need to ally in the first place. It only took a few of them to force him into the Pandorica, so what was the point of the huge fleet and therefore the alliance itself?

I must keep missing the explanation for where the Pandorica comes from in the first place, but I'm still not clear on who built it. Obviously it's pretty amazing (especially if you have a time machine you don't mind destroying), so I figure the idea was that they collaborated on its design and construction. Then again, the Doctor knows it as a fairy tale, so it must have predated the alliance. Somehow.

So maybe the purpose was to overwhelm the Doctor with numbers. In "The Pandorica Opens" we see him frantically (if facetiously) concocting plans to play off the alien fleets against one another, but he seems to despair once he realizes how many there are. They must just figure they need everyone to match his cleverness. Or maybe some of them are providing the catering.

Or: their planets have already fallen into the cracks, so they're all huddled around Earth (the eye of the storm) for safety.

I suspect that the alliance is like many other elements of the finale in that it mostly serves a dramatic purpose: it's just about giving a sense of occasion, regardless of how much sense it makes under scrutiny. You accept it in the first half because you figure "oh, Moffat will explain it in the second half," and then while you're talking to the person seated next to you he's cleared the plates and the alliance is conveniently gone for the second half.

Of course, the other dramatic purpose it serves is to keep you from assuming that the enemy forcing him into the Pandorica is the one Secretly Behind All This. If they're all there, you're less likely to assume the butler did it.

A tour de force review for the finale, Frank! You articulated a lot of what I found troublesome about the episode, although I enjoyed the ride while it lasted. My main sticking point would be the lack of explanation for why the TARDIS explodes and 'Silence will fall' - whilst I appreciate allowing the finale room to believe, you can't help but feel a bit cheated since it seemed as if Gretel-Moffat was leaving the trail of breadcrumbs for us to follow from Episode 1 right through to this moment. I also don't particularly want to sit through another 12 episodes of random characters muttering 'Silence will fall!' in every story of Series Fnarg+1.

There is little in 'The Big Bang' that goes back to explain why Amy is such a pain throughout the rest of the series. Even with her restored family (and the implication is that she is at least somewhat damaged because the crack has eaten her parents) she seems little different in terms of attitude from her early appearances.

The lack of a clearly defined protagonist makes this a rollicking series of wonderfully clever moments, but only half a story. Indeed, this production team seems unable to draw a convincing or memorable villains or monsters. Unlike RTD's very clearly defined 'monsters that a child can scribble' I can barely remember what the fish-people of Venice or the Krafayis even look like. And it seems everyone remembers the plummy-voiced New Daleks and the Silurians for the wrong reasons. I understand there are budget issues, but I did find the lack of a solid alien menace or even a story from Ep 6 onwards that wasn't tied to Earth or some English village rather repetitive. Teaser moments like River's space bar or Planet One are just salt in the wound.

Ironically, whilst the series does feel frustratingly curtailed in terms of scope, it has never looked more beautiful. I was rewatching some Tennant episodes and the use of those horrendous green/ purple lights everywhere is garishly distracting. Even a story like 'Silence in the Library' which I remembered as being more polished suffers from the blanket lighting. The grading of that series and especially 'The Big Bang' have been magnificent - like the gently tinged unnaturally orange sky as the Doctor et al emerge on to the roof to see the exploding TARDIS.

I feel torn between Paul Kirkely's 50 point enthusiasm and your more muted concerns. I loved this episode whilst I was watching it (and I tend to love all the finales, even the ones fandom seems to despise a la LOTL) but there seems to be more gaping logic holes in TBB than in probably all of RTD's finale's put together (the shifting nature of the Pandorica and the restoration field is a case in point).

Most of all, I think I would find it hard to watch 'The Pandorica Opens' again knowing that 45 minutes of dramatic set-up is swept away with a bit of timey-wimey nonsense and all sense of the horror of locking the Doctor up for eternity and the moral implications of his worst enemies ganging up against him evaporates almost instantly in service of a runaround worthy of SJA's 'Mona Lisa's Revenge'.

A mixed series of amazing moments but weak stories for me, but it's obligatory at this point to say how utterly brilliant Matt Smith is in the role.

Very thorough review! Brings up a lot of interesting points. I'm pleased to hear some folktales (Red Riding hood) brought into the mix. But I really can't see River as the wicked step mother. I can see her more as a morally ambiguous good/bad witch, but we'll see how the character develops.

I have to disagree about Amy being a "sadomasochist", though I recognize that she's a bit of eye candy for the "dads" and such. I think it's interesting that she and Rory have reversed roles (compared to Rose and Mickey, for example). Rory is compassionate, while Amy is emotionally awkward. I don't think there's anything wrong with the traditionally male and female companion roles being switched up. It's actually quite refreshing.

I also have to disagree with your view on the microcosm vs. macrocosm. I think Moffat's focus on the smaller picture is absolutely brilliant. I am sick and tired of RTD pulling out all the stops and blowing up London all the time. It's OLD!! Moffat, however, brings things into focus. For example, that River/Dalek moment that you don't like. I think that is one of the most intense moments of the entire series. It creates a contrast against the alien alliance in The Pandorica Opens. While I think the alliance was mostly just for show on Moffat's part, the lone Dalek is not only an obvious "baddie" for The Big Bang, but it's in a scene that pits two of Doctor-Who's-most-wanted against each other.

Think back to Rose saving the lone Dalek from the Doctor in the first season. Then think of that same thing in The Big Bang. Just a little different, right? Moffat created a microcosm of Doctor Who in that Big Bang moment. The companion vs. the arch-enemy. It also shows the cowardice of the alien alliance against the Doctor, by revealing how weak just one of them is against River. Not to mention, River's voice, the Dalek's uncertain pause before begging for mercy, the unwavering hate on one hand and the fear on the other. I couldn't tell if River was doing it for the Doctor or for her own satisfaction. I tend to think it was the latter. Throughout that whole scene, I thought the sparks were visibly flying.

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June 27, 2010

The Doctor and Amy's Excellent Adventure

Stuart Ian Burns watches Doctor Who: The Big Bang

Raggedy Doctor, raggedy final episode.  I’ve been watching lots of productions of Hamlet lately and concurrently reading scraps of literary criticism, volumes of words devoted to whether he’s really mad, she was in on the murder of his Dad and oddly what religion they all are.  Some of this is quite the most bonkers theorising you’re likely to see in print as each and every Phd tries to find something new to say about a four hundred year old play that everyone (well everyone who cares about literature, a progressively dwindling number) has already had an opinion about.  Shakespeare was probably a genius because he knew his legacy wouldn’t just be built on the poetry of his plays but the collective head-scratching of his audience.

The days, weeks and hours leading up to The Big Bang have been like those four hundred years compressed into a much shorter time.  Online, the minutiae of dialogue, narrative and since this is television, directorial choices, ploughed over and over.  A feature of modern television obviously, but even in the Bad Wolf era, the Doigian attention to brainteasers wasn’t quite this intensive.  The Big Bang had a lot to live up to, not just as a piece of Saturday night television watched by the millions not watching football or having a barbecue or both but as the solution to a three month old logic problem.  I’m not about to end this paragraph comparing Steven Moffat to Shakespeare, but his methodology was certainly similar.

the Doigian attention to brainteasers wasn’t quite this intensive

Boom The brilliance of The Big Bang, and yes, it is brilliant, is that it manages to not only provide answers to some of those questions (that’s some) but also spin them into a emotional entertainment which unlike you what you might expect from the title, refused to give in to the tendency in these finales for massive space opera and offered instead a much smaller story which was ultimately about a girl and her childhood memories, about dreams and fairy tales, in which Moffat risked losing those viewers who focus on the literal and attempt to punch through something more profound.  As the older Amy says when the Pandorica opens again, "OK kid, this is where it gets complicated."

Just before transmission, the rector of this parish tweeted that he was more nervous about this episode than the England match tomorrow and as it turned out Moffat split his story roughly down the middle, with Big Bang 2 as the narrative equivalent of oranges and an ear-bashing from Fabio Capello.  Anyone expecting a monster mash will have been surprised to find Saturday night drama again audaciously being carried by little Caitlin Blackwood in an extended recreation of The Eleventh Hour, sans the Doctor and with the small and telling gesture that the stars haven’t just gone out this time – they never existed.  A residue of race-memory is retained, not least by that well known cultist Richard Dawkins, who in the Russell T Davies version of this episode would have been back on screen pointing to a diagram of where in the void Alpha Centuri should be.

that well known cultist Richard Dawkins

Few other cliffhanger resolutions have been like this, continuing to keep the audience guessing even after the main titles, but as Moffat said in last month’s parish newsletter, he was writing a script which attempted to be a sequel to all the episodes this season (with the exception of episode seven – so far) so you can understand why he might want to take his time.  The reveal of this new universe (can a planet and not a proper sun be described as a universe?) was a masterclass in suggestion, with remnants such as the stone Daleks (like their cousins in Victory) from the old timeline anomalies in the new, the whole planet now a metaphor for the interior of Amy’s brain, with a history that doesn’t make sense and presumably since there’s no space exploration, any Star Trek or Star Wars (What’s a galaxy? Why build a spaceship if we’ve nowhere to go?).

Thiscartoonversionwassurprisinglygood As with Amy’s note in The Lodger and every other script Steven Moffat has written, the explicability of how these Mobius (no not Morbius) events are generated and resolved was again not fully explained and likely to be the most headache inducing (particularly for poor Blinovitch).  The predestination paradoxes agogo used to explicate the break from the Pandorica and Amy’s resurrection are the stuff of the jail break in Bill and Ted’s Excellent Adventure and I can understand why someone might feel cheated by the inherent logic short circuit in the centre.  Cheap tricks are not exactly new in Doctor Who.  The fake Mona Lisas in City of Death for one thing, and Jonathan Morris’s novel Festival of Death is replete with them.  Quite whether kids and some adults would have been able to follow all of the shifting about of time I’m not sure, though they must have loved the Doctor in a fez randomly carrying a mop.  

Jonathan Morris’s novel Festival of Death

Like the deus ex pandorica conclusion to the crackpot crack plot, Moffat gets away with his folly (at least for me) by ultimately turning both into quiet meditations on sacrifice.  Amy’s boys both become myths in different ways to show their love for her and though we can argue whether the Doctor would have done the same no matter what sort of human she was, Pond, thanks to Karen Gillan’s consistently well judged performance (give or take a few line readings), is the kind of girl you would surrender yourself for.  Her twin reactions to the story of how her boyfriend may have perished safeguarding the Pandorica over two millenia and the Doctor’s final words before he hurls himself into the smouldering TARDIS just demolished me; she’s almost a younger, female Cribbins.  When Gillan cries, I do too.  We await her cover version of Gossip Calypso with great interest.

From Amy’s resurrection to the whole universe.  The Doctor’s steering of the Pandorica into the heart of the Tardis’s storm firstly brought to mind similar journey’s in Contact, Sunshine, The Abyss and more specifically 2001, a lone figure entering the unknown and like 2001, gaining the opportunity to become a viewer reviewing elements of his own lifetime, though Moffat sadly doesn’t take the opportunity to explain if timelords are loomed or born, there’s no star time-tot floating in the void.  He does however resolve two of the big theories, of the multiple Doctor’s in Flesh and Stone and the non-dream sequence in The Eleventh Hour, Amelia’s long evening wait.  Rare is it in Doctor Who that this kind of forward planning has been in evidence and so sensationally pulled off.  This whole finale is nearly a homage to the inexplicable Dalek amongst the Roman battalion in Paul Cornell and Caroline Symcox's Big Finish audio Seasons of Fear (which threw forward to Time of the Daleks later that season).

Paul Cornell and Caroline Symcox's Big Finish audio Seasons of Fear

Matt Smith’s performance in this section and especially when he explains his existence to a sleeping Amelia was extraordinary.  Once again we see the character’s years weighted on his shoulders and behind his eyes as he agrees with River’s suggestion that they’re all a fairy tale, distilling his existence to a poetic version of the key components, of the kind a small mind might be able to comprehend.  He recalls the beginning of his own adventure, however long that was before An Unearthly Child (the jury is still out), his own life folding back on itself; given the number of times Billy has appeared this series, I almost expected him to break into chat about his grand daughter, kidnapped teachers and a junkyard, but unlike some authors we could mention, Moffat’s tasteful enough to keep to the essentials.  Then before the Doctor finds himself watching another story with a hyperbolic title, he’s gone.

Tardisbluedoors Finally we meet Amy’s family, the appearance of whom was rather spoiled by the BBC Three listing in the Radio Times.  Like other elements of Amy’s character, the loss of memory, the runaway bride, ginger, Augustus and Tabetha recalled Donna’s parents, same kind of demographic group, yet more immediately likeable somehow, especially when her Dad said he needs a few moments to perfect his speech (never mind the Dahl reference, Augustus is played by the brilliantly named Halcro Johnston which might be the best actor’s name ever).  It’s in these moments, Moffat’s groundwork on memory begins to pay off as like Gwyneth Paltrow at the close of Sliding Doors, this older Amy begins to remember the person she was in the other timeline.  There is some glossing over such topics as to the extent she and her husband remember both remember their other existences, Rory in particular with two thousand years as her plastic pal who’s sort of fun to be with (if you want, not sure).  

Gwyneth Paltrow in Sliding Doors

The Doctor’s re-emergence also neatly sidesteps the subject of how the Earth is a nice place to live without the troubles that befell it in Turn Left – Amy would have remembered him eventually and so he will have existed and so the Whoniverse is back to normal – moreso since it also corrected the bother created by the cracks.  Such questions and answers simply didn’t occur to me during my sharp intake of breath on seeing River at the window, her TARDIS diary and Amy’s explanation of “Something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue”.  As with much of the rest of the episode, Moffat, aided by a beautiful sweeping push-in, is able to turn what should be inexplicable narrative sleight of hand into a beautiful character moment as Amy is able to confirm that she isn’t mad – even if the man in the top hat quite conclusively is.  Look at the dancing.

Threading through this all of this is River Song, pointedly oscillating, like the Doctor himself between elucidator and enigma.  We’re meant to believe that her moral compass is pointing more toward the Seventh Doctor than the present incarnation – though in one of the episode’s few logic missteps (few?), I don’t quite understand how having her do an Absolom Daak demonstrates that (unless it’s because the pepperpot wasn’t armed).  Still, there is something rather chilling about seeing this remnant scream for mercy and Alex Kingston enjoying its misunderstanding of the role River has in the Doctor’s life, her eyes sparkling.  At some point, her “spoilers” catchphrase will begin to tire, but you suspect that Moffat will, in a timely manner, judge when that will be, and some of the answers will begin to flow. 

Absolom Daak

Because in order to keep us interested, still guessing, still theorising, oh the mysteries some of which, like Hamlet's listlessness, may never be "solved".  We don’t know who was controlling the TARDIS, who’s voice is slithering “Silence will fall” or why, as the Doctor notes, his time machine exploded in the first place.  We don’t know what happened to the ducks in the duck pond.  A crack, perhaps, but given how often these potentially otherwise picayune anatidae have been mentioned, no explanation to their relevance was forthcoming.  What of the machine in The Lodger?  Perhaps most importantly, will Arthur Darvill be in the opening credits now that he appears to be a full companion?  He’s certainly earned it, having been in more episodes than Moffat’s written, and turned Rory into a character who feels as significant as Amy.  Unless he really does become nu-Who’s equivalent of South Park’s Kenny, always existing on the precipice between life and death, ready to take the bullet or neutron ray when an episode is requiring an emotional crescendo.

In my review of The Eleventh Hour, I said I was “enchanted, beguiled, cheering, laughing and clapping” and that’s been my state through most of this series (though to be fair when has it ever not been?).  The only slightly bogus journey was the Chibnall Silurian two-parter and even that held together well enough on the strength of its dialogue, its direction and performances.  There was no New Earth, no Planet of the Ood.  Even Victory of the Daleks entertained me, though I know it’s not been universally praised because of (amongst other things) the new Dalek design.  What Moffat has done is to somehow mix our collective childhood memory of Doctor Who (before it was tarnished through our adult cynicism via dvd) with the needs of modern television for an emotional luminance and hired a Doctor who is able to embody both.  If nothing else, I think we can all agree that in Matt Smith is a replacement for the other fella who may well yet eclipse him (assuming he hasn’t already).

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Theory time: the TARDIS exploding was (somehow) facilitated in order to bring about the return of the (full blown, non "time-bubbled") Time Lords - through its restorative powers thingy - with (somehow) Omega on top... River Song (somehow) works for him...

Here's hoping the waiting until Christmas won't prove to be so excruciating (hey, there's SJA in the autumn..!)...
thank the gods for all those classic Who dvds, eh...?

Since Amy was able to bring Rory back, bring her family back, bring the Doctor and Tardis back, and essentially bring the whole universe back, how soon before she remembers the Weeping Angels?

What is this Dahl reference that keeps getting referred to? Just because there’s a character who shares the same first name?

***The Doctor’s re-emergence also neatly sidesteps the subject of how the Earth is a nice place to live without the troubles that befell it in Turn Left – Amy would have remembered him eventually and so he will have existed and so the Whoniverse is back to normal.***

In that case, there wouldn’t have been an Earth without any stars. Can’t say I’m bothered by the contradiction but “neatly sidesteps” is a bit OTT.

"At some point, her “spoilers” catchphrase will begin to tire"

Mmm, earlier this year ;)

I think the 'Silence will fall!' voice is just Prisoner Zero, isn't it? Repeating the sound byte from The Eleventh Hour?

And I think really think that the machine in The Lodger was just a throwaway thing, always did; which means I'll be thrilled if Moffat proves me wrong, but I just think it was not intended to be anything than just a suitable plot device (or orginally Meglos!)

The machine in The Lodger may have been there just to reinforce the "House that's bigger than it should be" meme.

I also thought Amelia's house would be similar to the house in The Lodger - that second flight of main stairs in her two storey house always puzzled me.

Additionally I now am trying to rationalise Rory's existence in the restored universe. Why is he there and when did he arrive and why did the Nestene create him? - is the Alliance still out there and are they all in Roman Britain wondering why the Doctor hasn't shown up?

I thought the 'Silence will Fall' voice sounds a BIT like Toby Jones' voice treated electronically, and he's certainly intimated that he's coming back.

Thanks for providing all the reviews and responses guys, it's been (on the whole) the best series since '05, and i always value the comments on BTS more than any other blog or forum. And next year, we get to do it all over again.

Thanks very much!

But don't forget Sarah Jane Adventures. And the next series of Torchwood. And the Eighth Doctor audios once I have a complete run sorted out ...

Looking forward to your Eighth audio reviews as ever; I'd tell you my favourite from the series but I don't want to influence anything! ;)

And yeah, SJA will be eagerly looked forward to for That Episode...like That Episode with Tennant last year.

I thought it was Prisoner Zero too (even insisted as much here and on Twitter) but I listened to both again recently, as I should have in the first place, and they're very different. My money's on the Dream Lord now too, but it could be someone else entirely. Love the idea that the Time Lords may be coming back.

@Rich: I think you're the second person to suggest Amy married Plastic Rory. She didn't - she married Real Rory, who never died because up until the wedding the Doctor had never existed, so he didn't go with the Doctor and didn't get killed.

With me so far? When Amy remembered the Doctor he was restored along with his history ... or at least his history up to the Eleventh Hour, since they are now in a universe where the cracks never existed so Amy's Mum and Dad still exist. Apparently Amy and Rory's memories of their travels in the TARDIS were also restored but those adventures are now on an alternate timeline so they never happened as such which is why Rory gets to stay alive.

I love the idea that Eleventh Hour Rory was an Auton all along, but it doesn't really stand up to scrutiny, does it? Rory grew up with Amy and played raggedy doctors and nurses with her. Also, I don't think even Rory could work as a nurse in Leadworth for 20 years without ever getting good at his job, being promoted or, you know, attracting some attention for the never aging or needing to sleep thing!

Hat's off to Russell T Davies for bring the series back sucessfuly but bigger hat's off to Steven Moffatt for ensuring it will survive for the next 40 years.

Maybe his focus on making the show memorable for the kids was always going to be his angle but everyone working on Nu-Who has talked often enough about how their love for the show is what drives them to make it so good and Moffatt must be aware that his actions now are ensuring that in 40 years time there will be another generation profoundly devoted to making the show as good as it can be.

And howabout that - a whole series devoted to getting the line 'something old, something new, somthing borrowed, something blue' to make sense when it was spoken. Well - not just make sense but actually have emmotional impact as well. Well done that man.

That makes more sense - I misheard Rory's comment after Amy's 'something old/new/borrowed/blue' line; I now think Rory says to Amy's mother "I was plastic" indicating he is the human Rory that Amy grew up with but as you say with the additional memories of Plastic Rory. It's an important line but barely audible!

Ah, that wasn't Prisoner Zero's voice? Interesting!

So here's the real question: If Amy Ponds parents never existed, how was Amelia still there?

The fact that Amy's parents were erased by the crack is horrifying and explains so much about her character. Just think about it: who does a kid go to about the scary things in her room? Even though she couldn't remember getting mommy and daddy eaten, she'd still have felt it! No wonder she was scared of it.

I wonder when the doctor realized what had happened. I think it was pretty soon. He was certainly capable of keeping up the pretense after Rory vanished.

Going to thank you too, Stuart, as I've just thanked Frank. Both of you have provided excellent and insightful addenda to my viewing pleasure :)

I am wholly in agreement with you that this has been a rollicking good series of mostly great stories that are, in essence, going back to what Dr Who was always about; a futuristic fairytale for entertaining the children that wryly shoots missiles at the modern zeitgeist which keeps the adults nodding and grinning sagely.

Who cares about plot holes miles wide?! This is SciFi, we can go back and fix 'em later...

Thank you! It's people like you who make me think that the hollow scream into the dark which usually greets the end of my first paragraph each week when I realise I don't know what to write next is worth the pain.

Jeliwobble said: "Who cares about plot holes miles wide?! This is SciFi..."

Who cares? I do! Plot holes and illogic are precisely the enemy of SciFi. They don't even belong in Fantasy or fairy tales (with which DrWho should never have been associated), as even those genres need rules which are self-consistent and make sense within their own narrative. This is why this series has been particularly weak.

Doctor Who was associated with fantasy and fairy tales the moment Barbara entered a box that was bigger on the inside that travelled through time. Under the stricter rules of genre anyway, Doctor Who is a sub-genre unto itself now.

And if plotholes and logic aren't your thing, don't watch Doctor Who because its never been internally consistent. It's always made things up as it goes along. That's how it has managed to survive for nearly fifty years.

Plot holes and lapses in logic do occur in any series, sure, but it's a question of degree and whether the balance of the story is strong enough to compensate for the shortfalls. Generally (with two or three exceptions), this hasn't been the case for me with this series of Doctor Who (and I've seen them all from the show's inception).

Care to offer some examples as to what you would consider exemplary seasons/series of Doctor Who...? Just so we know...

cheers...

Hey there. As Stuart said, Dr Who IS a fairy tale, as all GOOD SciFi is. Fairy tales in their purest form are cautionary tales about Good vs Evil, constructed in a way to be both a warning and an entertainment to children, with layers of subtext that adults can understand and manipulate if necessary.

Any brief read of any of the online collectives of Dr Who plots and storylines will bring up many plot holes and inconsistencies across the 43 years since its inception. We could start at the very beginning and ask what on Earth happened to Susan and where did she come from in the first place? Or how the Master KEEPS coming back from the dead again and again?

As Stuart says, there have always been internal inconsistencies. Luckily, within the genre, it is relatively easy to mend the holes that happened in history as we move the story forward. This was a super season in my opinion. It could have been a stinker, given the love there was for Tennant and the rod of iron with which RTD ruled the come back. But the show has stopped being about the star and is now back to being about the alien that loves humans and the adventures he has; and thank goodness for that.

I take back my question, why Amy didn't get erased by her parents being erased. The crack couldn't take her because her future self was protected under timelock by the Pandorica. So because she was in the Pandorica she continued to exist until she could actually get in the damn thing. Brilliant!

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Just Like That...

Doctor Who: The Big Bang
Review by Neil Perryman

Bang1 Well, at least I don't have to eat my Tom Baker underpants.

I still feel like a bit of a berk, though. I may have been right about a future-Doctor gallivanting around the Byzantium but my subsequent theories, the ones I'd tirelessly harvested from apparent inconsistencies littered throughout this series, failed to bear fruit. So either I've been reading far too much into it or the story isn't over yet. It's frustrating to say the least.

As it currently stands, the Injustice League of Pandorica's plan still makes very little sense (see my grumbles last week), the duck-less pond turned out to be a blind alley after all, and Rory's ID badge means somebody should be fired; or was Rory a qualified nurse at the tender age of six?

Even worse, Amy's house wasn't "too big" because it was trans-dimensional, it was because her mum and dad weren't around when the Doctor originally came-a-calling. I'll have to watch The Eleventh Hour again to make sure but doesn't Amy tell the Doctor that she lives with her Aunt? And isn't it possible for people to live in a house that is too big for them without their lives failing to make any sense? I live in a bloody volcano and my life… erm… well, you get the general idea.

At least the predestination postcard (don't forget to use the red pen!) was vaguely significant. I guess.

This was a bit of a let-down for me, as was the catch-all explanation that the crack somehow made Amy "special", which just felt a bit easy, although I suppose it does explain how Auton-Rory can remember his own death at the hands of the Silurians. However, this understanding can only be arrived at once you've wrestled with the finer points of the timey-wimey narrative and you finally allow yourself to succumb to the conclusion that Amy's memories could include adventures that she hasn't actually had yet when the Nestene Conciseness turns up. I think. I really couldn't swear to it. And you should probably thank me for not spending another paragraph trying to explain it.

That took me two hours to work out. During the transmission itself, I was utterly bewildered.

the Injustice League of Pandorica's plan still makes very little sense...

Bang2 The way they handled Amy's "death" was disappointing but unless she stayed dead (highly unlikely, bordering on the impossible) how could it have been anything but? I suppose it all depends on how quickly you can accept that the Pandorica has a dual-function as a handy resurrector without any prior warning. Last week it was an impenetrable prison and now it's a giant reset button. That felt like a convenient switcheroo to me: keeping someone alive isn't the same as bringing someone back from the dead, is it? Even RTD would have balked at the speed of that particular turnaround.

But at least the increasingly odd safety features that we've encountered throughout Moffat's reign can now be said to form a theme of sorts. A really silly theme but a theme nonetheless. Both the Dalek's Progenitor and the pseudo-TARDIS from The Lodger required the right person to interact with a machine in just the right way to make it work, and now Amy brings herself back to life by doing just that. Say what you like, but at least Moffat is consistent, and while you may not like his ideas at least he has the decency to foreshadow them properly.

Here's another example: Amy's memories are used to create the scenario for the Alliance's overly-complicated trap and while this sounds unbearably cool in principle, it doesn't really bear any scrutiny (the Doctor arrives at Stonehenge with no tangible intervention from Amy at all). But that doesn't matter to Moffat - he treats the Alliance as complete idiots, so maybe this is just another massive cock-up on their part. Or perhaps they thought Amy would ask the Doctor to take her there one day, given her fascination for the subject? Yeah, that could work. But what really matters is that it helps to sell to the audience the conceit that Amy's memories can manifest themselves in the flesh/plastic. "If it can be remembered it can come back".

The problem I had with the initial set-up wasn't that Amy's memories could be used to recreate physical objects and people (I can suspend my disbelief as much as the next fan), it was the inconsistency and pointlessness of the recreations themselves that baffled me. But once you are able to toss that niggle aside then yes, by jove! It really does make sense!

I am actually talking myself into going along with this as I write this review, as if you hadn't guessed.

Even RTD would have balked at the speed of that particular turnaround...

Bang3 This was an episode that liked to cheat. The Doctor lies about being dead (although this makes sense as it keeps his companions moving) and he happily crosses his own time-line to deploy a couple of cheeky predestination paradoxes so he can save the day. Aaron Blinovitch must have been spinning in his grave, assuming he hadn't ceased to exist at that point; forget the Time Lord Victorious, this was the Time Lord Mischievous. I wonder if he'll keep this up? I mean, what's stopping him?

The Doctor's plan - to fly a magical box into his dying TARDIS so he can ignite a ret-conning Big Bang - was about as bold and as silly as this show gets. But given that we've seen the universe wiped out of existence the only practical solution was for a massive reset to occur. What possible alternative was there? And the only machina capable of being deus ex-ed at such short notice is sitting right in front of them and I suppose it could have been worse, it could have been left to the sonic screwdriver to sort the mess out.

So a reboot was completely unavoidable and carping on about it now would be a complete waste of time. So, I won't.

How the reboot was played out remains the most important thing and once again I'm slowly coming around to its singular charms. By time I reach the end of the next paragraph I may even grow to love it.

The Doctor's sacrifice was handled nicely, if predictably, and while the box's function will probably continue to irk me for quite some time to come, at least the sentiment felt right. Watching the Doctor spooling back through his adventures, heard but not seen, trying to influence events in the wrong order was inspired too; it's just a shame that more of this wasn't planted throughout the series. And the moment where the Doctor implores Amy to remember what he told her when she was seven, and you realise that he doesn't even know what he's going to tell her yet, skirts pretty close to genius in my book.

forget the Time Lord Victorious, this was the Time Lord Mischievous...

Bang4 The memory that he eventually plants in Amy's mind, which he specifically designs to be triggered during her wedding ("something borrowed, something blue"), is quite remarkable and I couldn't help but be moved by his triumphant return to reality via Amy's sheer force of will. It was a scene that managed to walk a very fine line between fairytale magic, metatextual mysticism, pseudo-scientific technobabble, oh and complete and utter BOBBINS.

Thankfully, in between all the head-scratching and leaps of faith, The Big Bang still offers some truly iconic moments, even if you you aren't seduced by Moffat's vision: the calcified Dalek begging for mercy, that eerie vision of TARDIS keeping the planet alive long enough for the Doctor to figure it all out, the thrill of two Doctors coming face-to-face, Rory's mythical sacrifice, the sheer joy of Matt Smith's dancing…  Ah yes, the joy that is Matt Smith. Sigh.

However, I must confess that the episode's climax lacked a certain something. And while I was relieved that the thread concerning the Big Bad lurking behind the TARDIS's destructive behaviour was left hanging, I was still a little surprised not to have been furnished with another hint as to their identity or next move. OK, I admit it, I was one of those poor saps who was expecting Philip Madoc to turn up as Omega. So sue me!

Instead, we were either treated to a sly dig at RTD ("The Orient Express. In space.") or we're in for one hell of a bizarre Christmas Special.

And I can't wait.

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Amy's memories were used to lure the Doctor to Stonehenge, or at least to my understanding they were. The way I saw it was that the Daleks had knowledge of where the Doctor has been in his travels with Amy, the Cabinet War Rooms, SpaceShip UK, etc. Using this knowledge, they then looked through Amy's memories to create a plan to catch the Doctor. Taking inspiration from Pandora's Box, the Daleks use that to devise the Pandorica, creating the legend obviously is easy, go around time and spread the word. Moving on, the Daleks then used the Roman book to devise a force to capture the Doctor. With help from the Nestene, they made sure they had Auton's stationed at Stonehenge to be ready to capture and put the Doctor in the Pandorica, as well as keep the Doctor's and Amy's suspicions low. So they have the time, they have the place. How to deliver the message? In Vincent and the Doctor, at the beginning of the episode it is alluded to that Amy is a Van Gogh fan prior to her travels with the Doctor. So it is a reasonable inference that there is either a Van Gogh print or a Van Gogh book in her room. Using that, the Daleks waited until the Doctor finally met Vincent (This is the stretch in my hypothesis, but you can safely assume the Doctor would take her to meet her idols). After he met them, as evidenced by the quick turnaround, the Daleks were quick to beam the message to Van Gogh so he could paint it. Knowing something from Van Gogh would reach the hands of someone with knowledge of the Doctor, the Daleks then let time run its course. Since time runs laterally, they, hypothetically, had all the time in the world for the message to reach the Daleks.

It's not the greatest, but its better than assuming that her memories meant nothing.

None of it made a jot more sense than any of RTD's handwavey "plot" "resolutions"... I mean, is there any point in cliffhangers ever again? If all the Doctor needs to do to escape from an inescapable predicament from now on is to turn up from a paradoxical future timeline and let himself out?

...and yet it was ten times more loveable somehow. I mean, who couldn't love Fake Plastic Rory's 2,000 year vigil with no hope of reward, or River being caught in a time loop of failure and regret for the same amount of time. And then the final overturning of one of Who's historically most irksome conventions, the idea that all you need to do to write a companion out is marry them off, because obviously marriage is the end of adventure, fun, heroism and just plain mattering... if you're not sexually available, you're not dramatically interesting or worthwhile either. That was then. This is now.

I still feel like this wasn't a Doctor Who story, but a story about Doctor Who, though. Was it meant to make any sense to anyone not wholly invested in the show for decades already? Full marks to Moffat for jettisoning the Alliance of Exponentially Bigger NuWho Finale, though. The man really does understand that a decapitated Cyberman or a crumbling stone Dalek is more scary than a billion spaceships containing everything evil in the universe ever. And that's why the show rests in safe hands into 2011 and beyond.

Surely, if Rory is a giant Airfix soldier, and Amy has just married her plastic beau, then your gripe about the ID badge does not apply.

At least that's how I read it. In the rebooted universe Rory is still the eternal warrior watching over his love. Of course he was credentialed in the 1990s.

By the way, I love all the loose ends. There's lots to look forwards to next year.

The 'something borrowed, something blue' bit was just amazing - it may be the first flush of giddy enthusiasm, but I'm calling that as Doctor Who's finest ever moment.

I felt that the Amy deal made a sort of sense. She lives on her own as a kissogram with an unseen aunt and parents who just aren't there in a very large empty house. Same as some of the museum exhibits like penguins of the Nile, or the observatories but no stars, there are absences and changes in Amy's life, but they've left gaps and inconsistencies rather than her life snapping back completely around them. The duck pond is a prime example, perhaps the crack consumed the ducks, but it's still established as a duck pond and still exists as one without the presence of ducks, because in Amy's worldview there is a duck pond there. Amy's profession and her large house make sense for a lady in her early twenties living with her parents, but the parents just aren't there, Amy's life hasn't snapped back though to her not living in England or doing a different job, and that's because of what is special about Amy.

Everything has an equal and opposite reaction, and my theory is that in return for everything that's been sucked away out of Amy's life, she has absorbed the energy of 'potential' it left. Remember how the Angels feed on the energy of the life that could have happened? Perhaps that energy is what sets Amy apart. She has lost so much and absorbed so much that reality can't ret-con her life, reality has to try to order itself around an unchanging Amy, leaving gaping holes, empty rooms, logic gaps, duck ponds without ducks.

It was probably for this reason the Alliance of Bads chose Amy's memories, because even if they're fictional her memories are imbued with this powerful, vital potential energy that makes them real, and she believes them wholeheartedly enough to create the kind of detail to make them overcome real world logic. She went through what, four psychiatrists and couldn't be convinced that the Doctor wasn't real. Amy is stubborn, faithful and imbued with universal potential energy to the point that space and time have to bend themselves around her to fit her in, even if it makes no sense. The Doctor has mentioned 'fixed points in time' which cannot be changed. I think Amy has become a fixed person in time, like a walking black box protected by all the universal energy that's flowed through her, protecting her from timeline changes and also allowing her to be used as a record or template to restore things. It's possible that Rory's strange nametag is s leftover inconsistency from her stubbornly disallowing his being wiped from time or a change to his timeline once before. In fact, Ledgeworth having a hospital and a coma ward for such a small village makes you wonder if it wasn't originally a much larger town and Amy is the only thing that stopped it being wiped off the map altogether, preserving a smaller, idealised version of the place, full of inconsistencies. Whether this Haruhi Suzumiya-esque power will remain with her, or whether she used it all up bringing back the Doctor remains to be seen.

I sat in a London pub watching this episode, spellbound and in the company of at least thirty other "specialists". I empathise with Paul about experiencing flushes of giddy enthusiasm because I had several during this episode; they may have been the result of spending the whole afternoon beforehand sitting in the sun drinking, but I prefer to think that they were my genuine response to Moffat's astonishing, poignant, bonkers season finale. Quite frankly, I LOVED this episode.

It was a delight to see so much frantic messing around with time and all the wonderful possibilities for hilarious mischief-making that it brought; the hilarity suddenly turning to horror and sadness; the Doctor's vigil by Amy's bedside; the thought that he'd be trapped on the wrong side of the crack and never have existed - that he would have saved all of time and space, yet again, and no-one in creation would ever have known; the wonderful wedding sequence as the Doctor turns up wearing "this old thing"; the dancing; the prospect of more adventures with River Song still to come and perhaps even their wedding... Terrific!

There were one or two moments when I was puzzled of course - and it occurred to me on several occasions to wonder what The Not-We would have made of the twists and turns - but not once did the episode leave me feeling angry. That's a first for me, when I think of my reactions to the confusions and anomalies in previous big-league Nu-Who episodes and series finales.

For once, this was a season which I enjoyed almost in its entirety; ok maybe three or four less interesting episodes in the mix, but that's so cool! Even the less interesting ones were streets ahead in terms of quality and - of course - having a brilliant Doctor in them in the persona of Matt Smith, than the less interesting ones in previous years...

I wish they'd found a use in this episode for the beautiful and poignant piano music, used twice in The Eleventh Hour (when young Amy looks at the just-crashed TARDIS, and later when adult Amy steps inside it for the very first time) also in Flesh & Stone. That would have been very nice to hear again. Hopefully it will turn up on a forthcoming soundtrack CD, track-listed as "Amy's Theme". Still, Murray Gold's music was pretty damned exceptional in this episode and, better still, was mixed at just the right volume so I could hear all the dialogue properly :-)

The only irritation came straight after transmission, when it was explained to me that there would be hundreds of fans who would have hated the episode simply because Omega didn't turn up at the end... FFS! This is the same irritation I felt in 2006 when two or three real specialists insisted to me that the giant demon chained up in The Satan Pit was obviously Sutekh because he spoke with the voice of Gabriel Woolfe. "You can't prove it wasn't Sutekh," they carped at me. "They must have cast Woolfe for a reason..." Better for me to sigh and roll my eyes skywards than pay serious attention to the conspiracy theories of specialists. I am quite happy to savour the anticipation of finding out whose sinister voice could be heard in the TARDIS and who was presumably the cause of its explosion. Hopefully that will happen at Christmas or at some point in the new series...

Just to add one thought; i still think the Duck Pond was a foreshadow. I think the idea that Moffat was going for was that there was alot of stuff that had been erased from Amy's village, and that's why she didn't make sense as a person. I think the idea was that there had been ducks there and they had been erased (somehow), but Amy still remembered it as a Duck Pond.


Overall good review though, i concur that while the episode was highly enjoyable and had some brilliant moments; it did have too many leaps of faith for my liking. I think using a paradoxical version of himself to let himself out of the Pandorica is probably the lamest think Moffat has ever written...

@Darth-mongoose I'm with ya, mate...! And a firm proponent of you eventually (pretty please?) being an integral part of the roster of gentlemen geeks who review in this collaborative blog here (yes, mentioning Haruhi Suzumiya clinched the deal for me)... Fresh blood and all that... Cheerio...!

Absolutely mental finale and hugely reminiscent of the BBC Eighth Doctor books, where his adventures frequently revolved around time unravelling rather than epic alien invasions.

My slight pang of disappointment after the episode was mainly because, like Neil, I was firmly in the belief that there had been a rich tapestry of clues in previous episodes that were going to add up to something big. But there wasn't - at least not yet. But I think that's more my fault than the fault of the episode which was audacious and clever and - pretty rarely for Doctor Who - used time travel as a central plot device.

Yeah, the future Doctor is a little bit of a cheat, but it's cheeky and fun and as long as Moffat doesn't continually revert to it, I think it's great here. But you have to admire Moffat's balls for holding off the big bad till next series as well as leaving several threads hanging. That takes courage so more power to him. Roll on Christmas.

Oh, and the final scene of the Doctor, Amy and Rory in the TARDIS was just magical. They're now firmly one of my favourite Doctor and companion teams.

Matt Smith! In a Fez!

Fezzes ARE cool, by the way...

"Instead, we were either treated to a sly dig at RTD ("The Orient Express. In space.") or we're in for one hell of a bizarre Christmas Special."

Also: a companion in a wedding dress.

Hi,

It's my first time posting here and I've just recently discovered the website. The reviews are highly enlightning, but there's an explanation I didn't see in any yet.

How did the Doctor get out of the Pandorica to tell Rory that how to free him in order to put Amy in it, in his place ? I know it was Future-Doctor, but for Future-Doctor to be able to reach Rory then, he would have needed someone to get him out of there in the first place, wouldn't he ?

I found myself really enjoying this ep and half way through I thought - woah, why couldn't the others have been this good? Sadly, by the conclusion I was left disappointed. The last six or seven minutes felt really flat (I kept thinking that something more was going to happen). It kinda just fizzled out, while the resolution itself was as weak and wishy/washy as many have been in this series run. I hope they pick up their game next year.

@Charlesdecant

Welcome to the scary world of predestination paradoxes

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Predestination_paradox

Neil, when the Doctor said her house was too big, Amy did reply that she lived with Aunt Shannon.

I never expected part two to start back at the beginning, I never expected Amy to be in the Pandorica, I loved the playing about with time, Moffat had my head spinning and I enjoyed every second of it!

I thought the ending was really moving - Amy's delivery of the 'something old/new/borrowed and blue' was perfect, as was the Doctor/River marriage exchange - sparks! Threads are still to be resolved by arcing into next series which I find very refreshing.

'The boy who waited' married 'The girl who waited' a wonderful new and old fairytale and I can't wait for what's to come.

Hi,

Thanks for the link... I understand the principle, but contrary to all the examples given on the Wikipedia page, the Doctor couldn't get out of the Pandorica to explain to Past-Rory how to get Past-Doctor out of the box...

And the Doctor has no knowledge of his being trapped in there until it has happened... so how can Future-Doctor warn Past-Rory, when Future-Doctor is stuck in the Pandorica ?

I'm still confused...

When characters within Moffat's script have asked similar questions, the best the Doctor and for that matter Moffat himself can come up with is that it's "wibbly wobbly timey whimey".

Think of it in the doctors timeline.
He is in the Pandorica. The Pandorica opens, he finds out that Rory opened it with his scrwedriver, which he checks by holding them together and them sparking and Rory tells him that the Doctor himslef gave it to him.

So by this point the Doctor knows that at some point in his future he will travel back and give Rory his screwdriver.

When Rory tells him in the museum that he was holding a broom when he gave the screwdriver to him, he knows he has to go back now, otherwise he never would have escaped. But he does go back in his own timeline and give Rory the screwdriver, so the timeline is able to continue.

Then of course he wonders how he could get it back, which leads him to go back one more time to tell Rory to leave it with Amy in the Pandorica, so he can pick it up again straight away.

Or if that doesn't help think of the Screwdrivers timeline.

Stuck with the doctor in the pandorica, released by its future self, the only way this is possible is if a future bearer of the screwdriver comes back at some point. The recently released doctor goes forward with the vortex manipulator, but then comes back with the screwdriver, but slightly further back in time. Rory now holds the screwdriver, opens the pandorica, leaves it with amy in the Pandorica. Rory then stays with the Pandorica and therefore the Screwdriver for 2000 years, give or take, until the museum where the doctor can take it back.

It's all backwards and has no bearing on reality, but it's a predestination paradox, it does make logical sense, well... Sci-fi, fantasy type logical sense.

That's slightly unfair.

Moffat explained the paradox perfectly well in Blink, that he was reading from a script that was still being written, and then at the end Sally makes it explicitly clear, that she kept all the information necessary and gave it directly to him, but before any of it happened for him.
Wibbly-wobbly-timey-wimey was just a shortcut for the kids.
It is the fans who have run with it and use it as a phrase to explain everything in the series related to time travel, which always do make make coherent enough sense so the phrase is infact redundant, people just like using it. It's not Moffat's fault it has got a life of its own now.

What it refers to is time isn;t strictly linear, that because of time travel, not everything, even your own personal timeline will happen in exactly the right way, you will, almost inevitably run into "spoilers". Yes it doesn't make sense in a non-time traveling universe such as ours (or so we think), but Doctor Who doesn't take place in such a universe.

We are all disappearing inside mattbartley's unclosed italic tags. Maybe that is how the crack started in the first place?

"Okay kid. This is where it gets really complicated..." said Amy to Amelia.

Or was that the Moff breaking through the fourth wall to talk directly to us? Either way, it was time for Mr. Toad's Wild Ride through the Time Vortex to begin.

I reached the same conclusion in retrospect as Darth-Mongoose. The duck pond was set out there in plain sight for us from the start — as if Moffat was daring us from the start to see what was readily apparent to the Doctor: the parallels between a family-sized house occupied by a girl living virtually alone and a duck pond with no ducks.

And then, immediately following, what did he serve us?

"No. Hang on. Shut up. Wait. I missed it. I saw it and I missed it. What did I see? I saw it but I missed it? What did I see? I saw...what did I see?"

Was that the lead-up to a sequence showing us the village green from a Doctor's-eye perspective (ending with the oft-noted misdated ID badge) or a warning for us to pay attention to see what we've just been shown? A caution repeated to Amy at the start of the every next episode to give attention to details — especially where children left alone in the midst of a crowd are concerned.

For me, the inking that undreamt potentialities were afoot started with the continuity problem about the Doctor's jacket in the Byzantium (how could you make such a fuss over the Doctor losing his jacket, then overlook it a couple scenes later?!?). But I didn't comprehend the full magnitude of what was being laid out for us there in plain sight until the finale (the culmination of a 13-episode version of "Blink", as it were).

Makes you wonder what else has been overlooked? Was the cover of River's "spoiler's book" deliberately selected back in Library to be evocative of the TARDIS door? I feel the overwhelming urge to pull my "Coupling" collection off the shelf and comb the DVDs for clues.

On the other hand, sometimes a misdated ID badge is just a misdated ID badge...

Wait!!!! Did River give Amy an empty diary to start filling out... about the travels in the Tardis with Doctor Who and then that ends up back with River Song far in the future. I'm still thinking that the companion used by the Injustice League to get the Doctor was River, and her idea was to use a his current companion, Amy.

The notion of River giving Amy a new blank book to start writing in that eventually grows into the "spoilers book" — rather than the "spoilers book" gone blank — is REALLY appealing. But the Doctor handed the book back to River at the end of the episode and indicated that its contents were already restored.

This timey-whimey stuff is causing a headache...I think I'll spend the rest of the weekend watching Quantum Leap episodes.

Am I the only one for which this wasn't a particularly successful episode? Sure, there were plenty of fun-bits, and the production was all well and good, but the resolution still boiled down to some deus ex machina magic, a la countless RTD episodes.

A "restorative field" beamed throughout the universe and Amy (being, once again, "special"...we heard this about Donna some time back, also) being able to remember things that never happened and will the doctor into existence...all bollocks.

Nonetheless, I still enjoyed watching it somewhat better than your typical overblown RTD spectacle, but I'm not quite certain I understand why. Probably because it was a little more grounded than some of his circuses, but, really, when you think of it, the big problem was the universe having never happened, which is hardly the sort of small-scale not-universe-spanning disaster you'd find in some of the old-school stuff.

Even the predestination paradox stuff, which could get old really quickly if it happens too much (and there is no reason given for why it doesn't), I could live with that, Blinovitch be damned. It may not make much sense if you read the tin too closely, but there's precedent for it in Doctor Who and it was sort of fun. I may have prefered a more clever way for the doctor to save himself or something...but I'm not sure there was one in the offing.

As for Amy's specialness, and the whole conundrum about her "life not making sense", I don't buy it. Duck pond, schmuck pond, the pieces don't particularly hold together. Who cares if she lives in a big house? The "clues" may have been intentional going all the way back to "The Eleventh Hour", but there was nothing convincing about them. Children do live with their aunts sometimes, after their parents, uh, cease to exist.

That wasn't helped by her awful domestic nightmare, complete with parents, when the new universe happened...and, apparently, happened exactly the same as it did the first time around (who needs quantum mechanics?), except without the Doctor being there. And the maudlin "let's retrace the season while the Doctor ceases to exist or something" may have let them address their little doctor-with-a-coat easter egg in the Angels two-parter, but I found it rather nonsensical and dramatically flat.

That brings up the bizarre logistics of the doctor's "plan", as it were. Apparently the universe was going to happen again...but without the doctor...but, for some reason, the whole universe and the stars and all that shit didn't exist...but the Earth and, specifically, the town of ledworth, never-existed last of all (if that were to, you know, make any sense at all) so they had a convenient 2000 years or so to do all that flying into the sun stuff. Even young Amelia never-existed just in time for her to let Amy out of the box (but they all remember her anyway). Burning TARDIS or no, there didn't seem much reason for Leadworth to be ground-zero, and, sure enough, when (everyone get down! Time is reversing!) the big reset button happens, once again, as in SOD U LOTT, we get the central characters as the only ones who remember the universe-that-was, apparently because they were in the eye of some sort of storm...which greatly overestimates the importance of Leadworth, universally speaking. It all seems very convenient that things stop-having-ever-existed in just the right order...which I'm not convinced happens when things never-existed.

Sure, all the pieces fit together nicely...but there was no reason for them to. I'm sure I'll have more to say about the episode when I give it another pass, but at the moment I'm not convinced the whole house of cards holds together. Fairy-tale indeed.

PS: is there a grammar term for the active "will soon have never-existed" tense?

PS: is there a grammar term for the active "will soon have never-existed" tense?

I believe that would be the "wibbly-wobbly future-wuture tense".

"I wonder if he'll keep this up? I mean, what's stopping him?"

Mucking about in your own timeline has the potential to destroy the universe. Given that this had already happened, the Doctor was free to arse around to his hearts' content.

I recall a letter to the Radio Times in 1989 complaining that the letter the Doctor sent to himself in Battlefield had effectively destroyed any drama in the series. 21 years later, we're still coping. Best not to worry too much about it.

offscauta - Good thinking, that man/woman!

Incidentally, the marvellously deflating conciseness of "King died in final battle. Everything else propaganda" has long been my favourite piece of Who dialogue ever. However, it's now under serious pressure from "If I always told you the truth I wouldn't need you to trust me".

Think the 'predestination paradox' could be explained later. Maybe not. Hell, it's fantasy isn't it?

Predestination paradoxes are a tricky business. While they can be explained by a strange sort of logic that i'll explain in a minute, they are a bit of a cop-out, and i think it was quite lazy of moffat to include one as the solution to such and important problem as the Pandorica.

As to how they can make some sort of sense though, i'll explain now:


So obviously in their own internal way, predestination paradoxes make sense. The Doctor gets out of the Pandorica because Rory let him out with the screwdriver that the Doctor later goes back in time to give him. It isn't an condradiction and works in its own way, but the main question that's left is; how did the loop form in the first place? How do any predestination paradoxes form in the first place?

A solution to this problem with The Doctor could be answered by this idea; If it's possible that the Doctor would have escaped from the Pandorica eventually and had the capability to travel back in time, it's possible that he would have gone back to change the manner of how he got out; therefore re-writing his own timeline so that he always got out in that manner...


To give an example of how it might have occured imagine this:

1) We start with the Doctor in the Pandorica.

*) It is possible that eventually, he would escape from it somehow. There is no reason for us to believe that the screwdriver was the only way to open it (and in fact, the fact that Rory had to guard Amy in it and that the museum spoke of him preventing it from being opened before it's time, implies that there certainly were other ways to open).

2) So lets say that after a few hundred years, Rory manages to work out a way of letting him out...

3) The Doctor, believing that it now may be too late to do what needs to be done, decides that he needs to re-write time so that he is let out sooner.

4) Therefore, he goes back in time and gives Rory his screwdriver and tells him to let him out.

5) By doing this he re-writes his timeline so he was let out by himself, and so in fact he always was let out by himself.


"Think the 'predestination paradox' could be explained later. Maybe not. Hell, it's fantasy isn't it?"

Well, it's not supposed to be, but you couldn't really tell that from "The Big Bang".

I hope we're not going to have the tedious argument about Doctor Who BEING SCIENCE FICTION and therefore anything that doesn't have spaceships and physics in it doesn't qualify again. Mainly because 95% of Doctor Who since 1963 fails to qualify as Real Doctor Who by the yardstick of these mentalists.

Doctor Who is a fantasy show, if it occasionally wears the clothes science fiction and you enjoy it more accordingly then bully for you, but that's not what it's "supposed" to be :P

Doctor Who's science fiction in my book. But there's hard SF and there's stuff like Star Wars and Doctor Who. There's some element of what you're calling "fantasy" in a lot of ostensible SF.

However, even if we say "Doctor Who is pure fantasy" (which may be truer of some seasons than others) there are still rules, even if they're largely concerned with what's dramatically satisfying and plausible (rather than what's "possible"). As an example, imagine the climax of the last Harry Potter book having been this:

"As Voldemort pointed his wand at Harry and grinned evilly, suddenly a thirty-year-old man with glasses and a lightning bolt scar beneath a mop of black hair appeared out of nowhere and tossed Harry a whopping great gleaming laser rifle. Harry flipped off the safety and disintegrated Voldemort with a single bolt. Everyone cheered and the future Harry gave his younger self a big thumbs up as he vanished back into the timestream."

Plausible -- given the rules and conventions of the Harry Potter fantasy -- or not? And more importantly, dramatically satisfying or not?

To clarify: personally I bought the predestination paradoxes in "The Big Bang" and really enjoyed them, but I don't think the reason they worked for me was because "Doctor Who is fantasy." Time travel is a given of the show, and it was satisfying on a pure entertainment level (if not quite on a dramatic level -- that's the "cheating" feeling some of us got) to see it used so extensively and energetically.

I think a similar trick in Harry Potter would have seemed incongruous (to say the least), since time travel and the sort of "science" that produces laser rifles aren't part of the Harry Potter universe in the same way. It would have seemed even more like "cheating" dramatically too, I would argue if I wanted to REALLY bore you.

So I agree with you that time travel paradoxes are perfectly fine in the Doctor Who universe; after all, without them we wouldn't have "City of Death," "Earthshock," or "Terminus," just to name three big examples.

I'm just disagreeing with your apparently strict definition of "science fiction." For example, I think ideas like "if people are remembered, they can come back" are at best pushing the limits of what belongs in a series like Doctor Who, just as "if enough people pray the Doctor's name simultaneously, he can change from a house-elf into a magic floating messiah" pushed the limits. THOSE things for me are what nudge the series into "fantasy" territory, and I found them both implausible and unsatisfying. "The universe can be extrapolated deterministically from a few atoms" wasn't a lot better, but at least it pretended to be based on something more than "you gotta believe!" I can't even tell you how relieved I was when the Doctor's "you're a miracle" speech to Rory turned out to be a mistake.

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June 25, 2010

The Memory Cheats

Doctor Who: The Pandorica Opens

Review by Paul Kirkley

TPO henge Expectation is a slippery biscuit. Because, clearly, this was brilliant. Amazing, in fact. And yet, on first viewing, I couldn’t help but feel a tiny bit short-changed, possibly because of all the tweeting and blogging that had been going on since the BAFTA screening about how it was the greatest thing since, well, the Big Bang. (Or, at least, that’s what Ian Levine said. But then he probably said the same about Take That’s first single. And we can only guess how much the bloke who wrote Attack of the Cybermen must have got off on a continuity porn-fest like this.)

Anyway, I’m not going to do my usual nitpicking about plot holes and lapses in logic because the plotting is so dense I suspect that, on this occasion, it might be a case of, it’s not you, it’s me – i.e. it made sense but I simply failed to understand it. One thread I will risk a tug on, though, cos it’s quite fundamental, is the whole idea of the trap built from Amy’s memories.

So how does that work, exactly? It’s a terrific concept but hard to get a handle on in any real, practical sense. River says the Doctor’s enemies have used Amy’s memories to construct a scenario he will believe, in order to get close to him. But, as Neil has already pointed out, surely the Doctor was delivered to Stonehenge by van Gogh’s painting and River’s graffiti? The only bits from Amy are the Romans – and they’re little more than window dressing who could have been replaced by any old army – Rory, who makes cock all sense anyway, and the Pandorica itself, which the Doctor appears to have known about since his own childhood and which, I’m pretty sure, he’d have come and taken a shufty at whatever it was called. Unless I’m missing the obvious, this actually turned out to be an even more nebulous concept than series one’s much-derided Bad Wolf arc – which at least made a kind of sense, if you sort of squinted and tried not to think too hard about it.

(Incidentally, I bet it was the Daleks’ idea to construct the whole “Amy’s memories” scenario. They seem to have been taking a lot of inspiration from The Anthony Ainley Book of Hopelessly Convoluted Traps lately. You can imagine the scene when they outlined the plan to all the other Big Bads, with much awkward coughing and shuffling of feet from the Cybermen, while the Sontarans insisted it would be a more effective martial strategy to just poke the Doctor on Facebook.)

My other big irritation was with the cliffhanger. Not because it wasn’t brilliant, but because it was teetering right on the verge of Best. Cliffhanger. Ever. until the Doctor ruined it by blabbing too much. The idea that our hero is a more dangerous force than the combined evil of all his enemies is a pretty powerful one, and would have left us with much to chew on over the next seven, agonising days. Instead, the Doctor kind of blew the whole gaff by revealing it wasn’t actually him that was the threat but the TARDIS, and that the Daleks et al had basically not bothered to check their facts about who could pilot it (sloppy, as there’s a whole list of people who have in the new TARDIS Handbook, available at all good galactic bookshops, etc).  I couldn’t help feeling this revelation undermined the moment somewhat: instead of the terrible, unknowable powers of The Oncoming Storm, it was basically reduced to the equivalent of a misunderstanding about who was at the wheel when a vehicle got flashed by a speed camera.

Fatty wouldn’t be the first to have one off the wrist from Captain Jack

There were a couple of other little niggles – I thought the reveal of the vandalised cliff face was a bit chucked away by the director, and the silence falling at the end still feels less like a dramatic flourish and more like Murray Gold’s just mis-timed his cue. Also, though I don’t usually trust anyone who uses the term “fanwank” – it smacks of a lazy reflex response ming-mongs use to try to prove they’re too cool to care about old monsters and stuff – the Evil Alliance did push credibility to breaking point. Then again, if the Lib Dems can hook up with the Tories, I guess anything’s possible.

But enough griping. On the whole, The Pandorica Opens rocked like a stone Dalek (hmmm… interesting idea: someone should write that down).

Some things to note:

The pre-titles sequence was so Alias it hurt. But hurt in a good way.

River’s contact got his vortex manipulator from “a handsome time agent”. Anyone we know? Still, Fatty wouldn’t be the first to have one off the wrist from Captain Jack.

Speaking of which, the Blue Man Group have really let themselves go in the 52nd century, haven’t they?

The Cyberhead: Sweet Jesus, have those metal muthas ever been more terrifying than when skittering across the floor on their own spidery innards? And that was before it opened up and popped a big grinning skull out.

Joke of the week: “You graffitied the oldest cliff-face in the universe.” “You wouldn’t answer your phone.”

It’s been mentioned elsewhere, but look at Matt Smith’s face when he first hears the Daleks. Look at the eyes: that flicker of doubt, of fear, of weariness. Then the mask comes on, and he’s instantly back to his quipping, larky self. (Interestingly, David Tennant pulled off exactly the same trick, in another exchange with River Song, in Forest of the Dead. Maybe Moffat puts this stuff in the stage directions.)

The last time we saw a plastic boyfriend, it was Noel Clarke with a champagne cork stuck in his bonce. This, I believe, is called progress.

And the Comedy Award goes to… Matt Smith and Arthur Darvill, for their beautifully awkward reunion exchange – especially Smith’s “How’ve you been?” and the way Darvill, when prodded, slowly rocked back on his heels, like a Weeble.

TPO hard enough Loved the Doctor’s “come and have a go if you think you’re hard enough” speech, especially the taunt about “your silly little spaceships with all your silly little guns”. That'll learn 'em.

The scenes between Rory and Amy: how can something be so simultaneously ridiculous and heartbreaking? Only in Doctor Who... It certainly rescues the Autons from burping bin ignominy; the last time we saw a plastic boyfriend, it was Noel Clarke with a champagne cork stuck in his bonce. This, I believe, is called progress.

Toby Haynes’ direction was impressively cinematic, and not just in the big money shots: River exploring Amy’s darkened house was just as beautiful. (Hard to think this is the same show where directors once had to fight to get a dimmer switch put into TC3.) And the decision to go slo-mo in the climactic moments was spot-on: we’ve had pomp and bombast before – Russell the T loved a bit of that – but has Doctor Who ever been more grandly, more thrillingly operatic than in those climactic shots of our defeated hero being dragged, Christ-like, to his final humiliation? Stunning.

In summary, then: Stephen fry can fuck off.

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Stephen FRY says he was misquoted so the jury's out on that.

Oddly enough I've just watched it again.

Just after they find the Pandorica, the Doctor says that Stonehenge is broadcasting and that anyone and everyone can hear it including poor Vincent. We know from his conversation with Amy that the artist is sensitive to these things so it makes a kind of sense that he'd be able to pick it up and River sent the rendezvous message based on the info on the canvas.

Which is a predestination paradox but hey-ho the show hasn't been averse to them this year. I can't find anyone who doesn't this whole season won't turn out to be another rather long and convoluted one of those.

I think that when the Doctor entered the chamber, a proximity system looking for his genetic makeup (which we know the Daleks have at least because they've used it before to check his identity even after he's regenerated) firstly activated the Pandorica which then begins its unlocking process and then sent a message to all in sundry to let them know that the Doctor is in place and to hightale it to Earth at that moment in order to complete the plan.

That still doesn't explain how Amy's memories played any part in springing this trap...

I thought Stephen Fry fucked off and left us with Fear Her, which is where so much of the trouble began?

Neil Perryman said...
That still doesn't explain how Amy's memories played any part in springing this trap...
Because the Alliance of Bastards™ have a time machine: the moment they receive a signal that the Doctor has entered Underhenge, what's to stop them from going to Amy's time, reading her memories, and then shaping an undercover force of Autons disguised as Roman soldiers to arrive beforehand and back up the Cyber-sentries? Especially as the Daleks probably have a low opinion of the Cybermen, especially on aesthetic grounds.

You can just tell the Daleks are behind this plan simply because of its complexity-- they're never ones to do anything simply (step forward the Dalek Master Plan, The Dalek Invasion of Earth, The Evil of the Daleks , Destiny of the Daleks and Resurrection of the Daleks.) How they survived for so long while at war with the Time Lords was probably more about the later's indolence when confronted with the formers over-excessive machinations.

That makes no sense either - they must have been to her house *before* they built the Pandorica - they took the design from her book... To be blunt, the trap makes no sense at all. Yet.

Exactly. So Amy likes Romans. What difference does that make to anything?

Also, in narrative continuity, the Alliance couldn't have existed before Victory Of The Daleks because the Mighty Morphin' Skaro Rangers didn't either. So where do we *start*?

Do reviewers believe that, if their review isn't centred on finding fault for fault's sake, they won't get taken seriously as critics? You start off by announcing that it was brilliant and amazing and then spend 2/3 of your review explaining how badly thought out it was. You can't suddenly say 2/3 of the way through: enough griping, it was brilliant.

If 1/3 of your reaction was positive and 2/3 was negative, how can you have thought it was brilliant?

We know from Moffat's previous 2-parters that the way he writes them is to pose umpteen insoluble questions in part 1 and then tie them all up neatly in part 2. So isn't it self-defeating to write a review complaining about so much in part 1 not making sense? It's not supposed to make sense at this point.

Would you stop in the middle of, say, Blink and write a review of its first 20 mins detailing how none of this DVD easter egg stuff makes sense? You say that it's even more nebulous than the Bad Wolf arc but forget that by the end of episode 12 of Series One, we still hadn't any idea of what the nature of the Bad Wolf plot arc was.

You say that the cliffhanger would have been much better if we'd been left thinking that the Doctor was so powerful that he could destroy the universe but we've known for at least half this season that the destruction of the universe was in some way connected to the TARDIS exploding. There's never been any suggestion that the death of the universe had anything to do with the Doctor being all-powerful - just that he owns a very powerful time machine whose explosion could play havoc with time and space. If the Doctor had kept his mouth shut, would we have spent the next 7 days forgetting that River was trapped in a crashing TARDIS around the time that the Universe is supposed to be ended in an explosion linked to the TARDIS?

There was a reason why the Doctor "blabbed" that it was the TARDIS which was the danger and not him. Because the problem he's presented with in being locked in the Pandorica isn't just that he's going to be confined in a box for eternity but also that it will prevent stop him from stopping the TARDIS blowing up - something he was trying to help River do when the Baddie Alliance turned up.

So, the universe is in danger of imminent end, the only people who know how it's going to happen are River and the Doctor, and he shouldn't try to convey this to the Alliance who are locking him up in their attempt to save the universe!!! Imagine if Moffat had written it like that. How many Ep 12 reviews would be complaining how it was poor writing to have the Doctor make no attempt to warn the Alliance that they shouldn't be locking him away because it won't stop the end of the universe? I can think of a few.

Yeah but, you know, just saying...

LOL

Paul you said:
"It certainly rescues the Autons from burping bin ignominy; the last time we saw a plastic boyfriend, it was Noel Clarke with a champagne cork stuck in his bonce. This, I believe, is called progress."

I noted that when I reviewed this ep (the jeopardy that the Doctor saves his companion from in the "first" Nu-Who story is what he doesn't save her from in this "last" Nu-Who story), though I prefer to think of Moffat's story having even more resonance because RTD's story exists, because he is riffing on what has gone before - this season hasn't exactly shied away from making links to the whole history of Doctor Who.

After reviewing the ep I've been trying to think what this season means as a whole, episode by episode - click here for planetzogblog speculation of what the season is all about: "Doctor Who the 2010 season mysteries contemplated".

(It contains some wild speculation at the end as to what the last ep will feature, the significance of Stonehenge, and this is the last half an hour before broadcast, so, last chance to speculate really.)

This whole discussion in the comment-thread about how the Daleks and chums expected this plan to function - it just occurred to me that what the Daleks are doing is similar to River's messages through time: River uses Gallifreyan inscriptions and, in a similar way, the Daleks decide they have to "speak companion" to really get something to attract the Doctor's attention. (They are aliens after all.)

I know that "it was all just a dream!" is a notorious dramatic cop-out, but with the season closer almost upon us (at the Eleventh Hour, if you will), I'm kind of hoping most of this season has taken place inside of Amy's psychologically fractured head. I'm just that uncomfortable with the concept of an Alliance of every foe the Doctor has ever faced: it's a great metaphor, but falls apart on any closer inspection.

If we're inside Amy's imagination, then the nature of the "trap" makes much more sense.

Also, never mind the Doctpr being The Beast Below now: was he Prisoner Zero all along?

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