The Doctor will see you now. That's been a rallying call since a cold night in November 1963 and a show, designed to be educational and fun, stepped into a scrapyard in Totter's Lane and on to the tv landscape. Five decades on and a multitude of faces since, Doctor Who is a show that regenerates itself but has remained a household treasure. Last year Matt Smith transformed into Peter Capaldi and for eight months through to August this year, fandom held a deep breath.
The Matt Smith era had its own moments of gravitas but all too often felt like it was pimping itself (especially with an admitted remit to do so with posters) to a generation that wanted an all-action but 'attainable' Doctor as a love-interest, not a 1000 year + intergalactic mediator. The mightily-chinned Smith is a good actor, (particularly a master of comic timing) as proven in several other projects, but whether at the direction of the script or utilising his own physique, would often be the prat-falling, limb-windmilling, gurning hipster.
"I'm not your boyfriend, Clara..." was an important statement of intent for show-runner Steven Moffat as the Peter Capaldi era began. It marked the start of a season that gave fans a new but older, edgier Doctor and a Clara who was suddenly more than the mysterious maguffin she had often been reduced to prior to the Fiftieth Anniversary. Capaldi was, as many expected, good out of the gate, great as a more bristling incarnation and though much was made of his attack eyebrows and sterner stare, he seemed to still have that innate sense of achieving success-by-brains (with a soupcon of luck) for which we've always loved the Doctor.
But if the Capaldi era has given us a (literally) more mature Doctor - less inclined to caricature and leaning more towards crusty headmaster rather than bow-tied under-graduate - then this first season with the new actor and incarnation at the controls would have some growing pains - not least of which was encapsulated by a deceptively 'simple' (or simply deceptive) question: No, not can the Matser REALLY have Dalek-bumps... but, ultimately, if the series was changing...what did Doctor Who now want to be?
Doctor Who has long since worn its all-ages remit on its sleeve - able to throw in the odd cheeky innuendo or topical snark into a morality play with a historical, fantastical or cosmic backdrop. But essentially, whether the story be Earth-bound or intergalactic, contemporary or period-setting, it's been a series where nostalgic parents can watch with their children and be assured that the kind of drama and scares that it provides can be catered for with a cheer and a hug on the night and playing out the episode with gusto in the playground the next day. For five decades the metallic cry of "Exterminate!" has become a catchphrase rather than a dictionary-definition of an order to destroy on a massive scale.
Recent episodes of the newest run, such as Robot of Sherwood, The Caretaker and In the Forest of the Night, are romps largely playing to those good-vs-bad ideals and reminding audiences of their youth. Other episodes, as always, can tilt towards more dramatic, catering for a slightly more mature view. Into the Dalek was an adventure which had added moral pathos, The Caretaker may have featured the least 'best killing machine' since someone thought a psychotic slipper-shaped cybermat could really give us chills... but raised some relationship issues and sharper dialogue about the military. Mummy on the Orient Express was another high-concept with some scary bits. Time Heist gave audiences an unapologetic caper that shows like Leverage would be proud of (and which seems only fair since the later show often doffed its hat to the UK series). We also got the likes of deeper, more complex stories such as Listen - an episode that might have tripped over itself in its attempts to existentially mine the mythology but resulted in an uneasy, sometimes effective story (with some genuine under-the-bed frights and melancholy). Even the likes of Flatline, arguably the most balanced story of the season, with both humour and inventively sinister villains, proved exciting and un-nerving, both in concept and execution.
But it was in the leap from tenth to eleventh episode that the current run of Doctor Who exposed itself to a genuine dilemma. A series that has 'tree-hugging for dummies' one week (In the Forest of the Night) but one that screeched and veered like an old Type 40 with dodgy brakes into a story (a mere seven days later) that explicitly detailed how every time you cremate someone they feel the pain and burn in hell has an undeniable change of tone. It was one bound to cause concern. The BBC quickly received over 120 complaints about the dialogue and tone of an episode that gravely suggested that the Doctor was attempting to visit the afterlife and it was a cold, unwelcoming place.
“The scene in which a character reveals 3W’s unconventional theory about the afterlife was preceded by the same character warning the Doctor and Clara several times that what they were about to hear could be distressing. When the Doctor does hear these claims, he immediately pours scorn on them, dismissing them out of hand as a ‘con’ and a ‘racket’. It transpires that he is correct, and the entire concept is revealed to be a scam perpetrated by Missy,” said the BBC in a statement.
It was a bit of a bizarre reply. Of course Doctor Who is fiction, as are other BBC shows like Atlantis or EastEnders (or US shows such as Homeland or American Horror Story), but one recognises that the level of 'fear' and 'deception' is very different in each case and not all are appropriate for all audiences. Explicit eternal damnation is NOT the same as a whizz-bang Dalek energy blast peril in the same way a story about rape in Albert Square isn't the same as lost homework in Grange Hill. The question becomes what are you trying to say and who are you trying to say it to? Again: what did Doctor Who now want to be?
It's that unevenness of tone, definitely from episode-to-episode, but sometimes scene-to-scene, that that be celebrated AND seen as the greatest threat to the show. If parents cannot explicitly trust the previously reliable Doctor Who to be scary but safe for that all-important 'all-ages' tag, then a watershed moment has happened that reflects its suddenly later time-slot in high contrast.
The season finale Death in Heaven was a mixture of high-camp and tragedy, a story where the new currency seemed to be pragmatic lies rather than implicit hope, leaving us with a bittersweet pyrrhic triumph. And THEN...off we go to an appointment with Christmas and destiny, no... wait... Santa Claus? Elves? Frosty encounters? What the proverbial festivus?
It's hard to do anything other than speculate wildly on the kind of tale we'll get on Christmas Day. Yet another tonal veer, this time into saccharine that retcons away the darkness, or a continuation of deep-set fears and adult themes? Will Steven Moffat go full-Whedon and continue the emotional carnage... or are some things just too sacred and desperately in need of some ho-ho-ho?
Whichever path the talented Steven Moffat and Peter Capaldi (and Jenna Coleman?) take from now on... there are risks, but the inconsistent tone proves the series is not what it was, or if it is, then its not as deft as it was at managing it. Whether those changes are good or bad, remains to be seen - no-one doubts there have been some standout moments this year. However to succeed in either regard, lasting decisions will have to be made so audiences - especially FAMILIES - can trust the programme-makers (who keep saying how important that specific demographic is). This is NOT an unconnected anthology where one rewrites the rules and tone each week without some cause and effect to loyalty but, instead, a mythology with fifty years to draw upon (if not be a slave to) and a future with massive potential to caretake for the next fifty. Pity anyone who forgets those foundations.
A beloved institution that has survived by evolving - but never too far - Doctor Who is no ordinary show. But to be extraordinary requires not just risk but responsibility. Let's hope we see both in time. Relatively speaking.
