Thinking of the two-parter “World Enough and Time,” and “The Doctor Falls,” I am struck with a question- why now? Why in this moment of the Doctor’s life has he decided it’s time to help the Master? Is it simply because he has a captive audience? Missy is unable to leave and so they’ve got nothing but time. Or maybe it’s the first time she’s even pretended to care. It’s as good an answer as any. But apply the same question to Missy’s motivations and you won’t get such a straight answer. She knows she has no place to go, and we all know she could go if she really wanted to. Right? Perhaps what started as a bit of a lark to fool the old man one more time turned out to feel a bit more complicated. During the process of conjuring fake tears, real emotions bubbled up. Or perhaps these emotions, which had always driven madness, now drive regret.
The Doctor and the Master are complicated friends. Both of them run away from the consequences of their actions, for better or worse. You could make an argument that both are as potentially ruinous as the other. We see the downside of the Doctor’s meddling in “Bad Wolf,” when the Doctor returns to Satellite 5 one hundred years after removing the Mighty Jagrafess of the Holy Hadrojassic Maxarodenfoe from power, only to find it taken over by Daleks. Who is to say that the Master’s meddling never united a people against a common evil?
The Doctor and Missy are more alike than either of them would like to admit. So I return to the question- why now? The answer may be found within Andrew Marvell’s poem “To His Coy Mistress,” from which “World Enough and Time,” derives its title.
“ But at my back I always hear
Time’s wingèd chariot hurrying near;
And yonder all before us lie
Deserts of vast eternity.”
While poetry isn’t my thing, I can see there is a definite emphasis on the concept of taking action now, before it’s too late. When I say “too late,” I don’t mean death, which is a small threat to a Time Lord, but rather the looming threat of a missed opportunity. The most important moment is now because now can change the future if one remains present. But it’s hard to remain focused on change when you have reminders of your past trying to drag you down, belittling the progress you’ve made. And you will see this theme of missed opportunities again in Bill’s storyline, but more on that later.
As a character study, this story works brilliantly. As a plot-driven narrative, it’s about as bare-bones as most of this series. It’s good then that the character study stuff is stellar. That being said, there are some incredibly strong science fiction elements at work. I’ve often commented to my friends that Doctor Who writers usually only have a handful of good stories in them. If you write enough Doctor Who, you would eventually write this week’s “worst episode ever.” It’s impressive then, that Steven Moffat still has heady ideas to explore, such as a satellite that is slowly pulling away from a black hole. With gravity affecting time, time moves faster at the bottom than at the top. It’s like a story from a pulp magazine, and I genuinely find that fun. It’s a great premise. Sadly, this strong premise has its issues, which I will delve into as we move forward.
As you may have noticed, I like to write. I’ve even got my own Doctor Who story I’ve been working on for far too long. However, one of the stories I always wanted to write was a sort of “Genesis of the Cybermen,” of my own. And believe it, or not, my story was going to revolve around the Twelfth Doctor and the Mondasian Cybermen. I shit you not. The key difference is that my take on it was going to be a bit more of a commentary on consumerism and FOMO. The Mondasian people were taking the upgrades willingly because it was what everyone else was doing. But try and imagine, if you will, both my dismay and elation in discovering they were going to do my idea, sort of. It felt deflating and validating all in one go. The idea was good, dammit.
Another thing I had always wanted to see was a Missy Who episode, which we sort of got. While it’s not the entire episode highjacked by Missy that a lot of us wanted, it was nice to see them at least visit the idea before Missy and Moffat both bowed out forever. Michelle Gomez traipses out of the TARDIS in such a way that you almost believe she was actually a Time Lord who influenced men to invent the word “traipse.” It’s delightful to watch her mimic the Doctor, referring to herself as “Doctor Who,” and to Bill and Nardole as her disposables- “Exposition and Comic Relief.” While I love that she calls the Doctor out on his Edward Cullen-esque cradle robbing friendship with his companions, the Doctor Who joke felt a bit laboured. It’s not that the joke was bad, but they really took a lot of their sweet time on it. This is both the blessing and the curse of multi-part stories. They almost have too much time to explore ideas.
This isn’t to say that I dislike how Moffat plays with his toys. He generally knows well enough not to write his name on these toys. These are communal toys, and when he’s done, they go back in the box for the next kid to play with. Moffat never reveals the name of the Doctor, because it’s not his place to do so. It’s a bit of a balancing act for any showrunner- leaving your mark on Doctor Who while also leaving it mostly unscathed. Some writers, whose names shall go unmentioned, have no issue taking out a big fat Sharpie and writing “Andy” on the Buzz Lightyear foot that is Doctor Who. This is why I love this Missy storyline so much. It changes the character in a way that doesn’t also do lasting harm. Missy can always find a reason to be angry again, or you know, the next writer could just ignore that character development completely. But only a hack would do that.
Miraculously, when “World Enough and Time,” aired, I had completely forgotten that John Simm was returning to his role as the Master. Actually, I tell a bit of a lie, I remembered, but I think I was expecting him to show up in “The Doctor Falls.” I’ve heard many people say that they knew right away that Mr Razor was the Master, but I was lucky enough to be blissfully ignorant. The return of the Master was one of those reveals I’m honestly shocked they didn’t try and hide. They managed to hide the Eighth Doctor’s regeneration, would it have been so difficult to hold John Simm’s reveal for the episode? It seems a bit of a misstep, especially when you consider they had also revealed the return of the Mondasian Cybermen. It’s as if the people at the BBC decided this would be a zero surprises finale. Leave your shock and awe at the door, because we’re revealing everything up front! Maybe the news was going to leak and they wanted to get ahead of it. Personally, I’d have rather not known.
Bill ends up under the care of Mr Razor after an unfortunate run-in with the last remaining member of the Blue Man Group, who shoots a giant hole through her. It’s easily one of the most cartoon deaths in Doctor Who history. There’s a big wide hole that looks like the result of a visit from Elmer Fudd, followed by Bill looking down at the smouldering site where her heart used to be. Perhaps this was to undercut how very dead Bill or anyone would be in this situation. What’s even weirder is the fact that this blue man, Jorj, shoots Bill at all. You see, Bill is a human, which has drawn the attention of the Cybermen who have sensed a human aboard the satellite. Jorj fears that Bill will draw the attention of the Cybermen who will in turn upgrade Bill and Bill only. The only person in this situation who is under threat is Bill, so he’d better kill her before someone comes and kills her. It’s supposed to seem like Jorj reacted in a panic, but his panic makes very little sense.
Speaking of not making a lot of sense, the lift leading to the bottom of the satellite is a mystery box that puts the TARDIS to shame. My boyfriend and I tried to work it out earlier and were left scratching our heads. You see, if the lift is going down to a place where time moves faster and therefore feels longer, the lift would appear to slow down right? Or rather, the lift would travel at the same speed, it would just take longer. So why does the Cyberman take Bill to convert her when the lift trip could conceivably take months, if not years? By the time they got Bill’s body to the bottom of the satellite, it would be a pile of bones. This is the problem with Moffat’s heady ideas sometimes. They’re neat until you need to actually explore them, and then they kind of fall apart. What’s worse is that this could have been explained by a little trick of the sonic screwdriver. The Doctor could maybe link the lift to the TARDIS and give some line about how it’s wrapped in a time bubble or some such nonsense. The problem with that is that then the characters could use the lift as needed, and that would shorten the story to at least a one-parter.
While Bill is living with a new Cyberman chest piece in place of her heart, the Doctor, Nardole, and Missy toil away in what looks like frozen images. Seconds for the Doctor count as weeks for Bill. As the Doctor forms his plans, Bill settles into the hospital with the Master as Mr Razor and his terrible terrible tea. Mr Razor is a small comfort amidst the horrors of the hospital, which we the viewer will recognise as a Cyberman conversion point far sooner than Bill. A sticking point I had with this episode originally was the concept of the Cybermen existing in constant pain. That alone wasn’t what bothered me, it was how they solved the issue by removing the patient’s ability to care about the pain via the classic Cyberman head handles. It seemed like a tactical disadvantage to me that the Cybermen should be in constant pain. However, it also feels just as weird to me that they would use drugs or a numbing agent which would need to be sourced. It‘s a clever way to imagine the process through which the Cybermen would lose their feelings by making it about a physical feeling. What’s worse is that these choices were not made by cold indifferent robots, but cold indifferent scientists. First, they tune out their cries with volume control, and then they remove their feelings completely.
Rumour has it that Peter Capaldi is the genius who wanted to see the return of the Mondasian Cybermen. Considering I had the same idea, maybe genius feels a bit self-congratulatory. He’s a genius regardless. Obviously, I love the idea. I think sometimes you need someone to remind you that Doctor Who can afford these kinds of moments. The default Type-40 TARDIS console room looks incredible on modern hi-def television. The Doctor is a time traveller, he’s gonna run into some old faces from time to time. I’ve always found it weird that new Doctors should only ever meet new versions of the monsters. Having the Doctor meet older versions of his enemies just feels correct for the character.
The updates to the Cybermen are sleek and subtle. I rather like how their chest pieces are a slimmed-down version of the ones we see in “The Tenth Planet.” You could even make the argument that when we see them there, they’ve since augmented the unit, thus adding bulk. Why not? I’m also a big fan of the peach skin-toned gloves they were given. In their original appearance against the First Doctor, they had human hands. I always liked to think of these of the last vestiges of their humanity. Perhaps they hadn’t quite mastered hands yet. The gloves give the suit a more complete look that feels a bit more practical than bare hands. They also do a good job of obscuring Bill’s skin tone, which allows us room to wonder if she’s a full Cyberman or not.
Once Mr Razor is revealed to be the Master, I feel the story loses a bit of its intensity. Where the first half of the story is presented as a type of zombie horror story, “The Doctor Falls,” feels more madcap. John Simm’s Master adds a certain devilish glee, of which he is known for in the Davies era. It’s a far more subtle performance this time around, an opportunity of which I am sure Simm appreciated. Also, he wears guyliner now, and I’m here for it. The most interesting interactions are between the Master and Missy. But it’s more than just the fact that it’s our first multiple Masters story. The Master’s effect on Missy’s relationship with the Doctor is akin to your childhood friends’ effect on you with your mum. You might shrug off your mum saying “I love you,” so you look cool in front of your friends. We all deny parts of ourselves to others at times. On this occasion, Missy is denying parts of herself to herself.
Of all of the Masters to bring back to meet his future female self, John Simm is a great choice. Historically, he has always been the more misogynistic of Masters. He beat his faithful wife, talked down to women and seemed to loathe femininity in its many forms. I get that misogyny was just one more element that made the Master evil. Obviously, he hates women. It’s not like he particularly likes anyone other than himself, and even that is debatable. It’s like a kind of fitting punishment that it should be him that sees himself become a woman. Something about who he is now is going to regenerate into who she is now. That has to eat him up inside.
The beautiful thing about the Master and Missy’s regeneration order being somewhat obscured is that you could make the argument that Missy is actually the final Master. It would fit with the Master telling her not to bother regenerating this time. Honestly, I like this a lot more than Sacha Dhawan’s Spy Master just up and deciding that being related to the Doctor is enough to kill a race of people. Frankly, this is my new headcanon and I am sticking with it. As I said, this is how a showrunner can leave a mark on the show without it limiting the scope. Hell, Moffat doesn’t even make this the definitive “Genesis of the Cybermen.” The Doctor mentions several versions of Cybermen such as the ones from Mondas, Telos, or even Marinus, which is such a deep cut that it acts as a proof of concept. These little stories all matter to someone, and if you write well enough, they don’t have to suffer. We can still allow for stories like “Spare Parts,” or even the one I had knocking around in my head. The opposite would be something like the Doctor meeting Mary Shelley on the same night the Eighth Doctor also met her and took her on adventures. Seriously, how hard is it to use the TARDIS Datacore?
It’s nice to see the Masters interacting onscreen. The conversation in which they ask the Doctor if he has any requests for how he would like to die is delightful. Watching the two of them flirt had me quoting Community’s Dean Pelton when he said “This better not awaken anything in me.” Because damn is it saucy. As much as I liked Bill and Mr Razor’s chemistry, the Master is always going to be more compelling to watch. I do wonder how the hell he managed to stand wearing a rubber mask for several years. I also wonder if he didn’t time the Doctor’s movements to make sure that the Doctor just misses the opportunity to save Bill from full Cyber conversion. It’s conceivable that a Time Lord would be able to watch the footage and time it accurately, which if he did, makes him an even bigger bastard than before. As I mentioned earlier, Bill also feels the effects of missed opportunities.
True to form, the Master is once again using the Cybermen as a weapon. Missy does it in “Dark Water” and “Death in Heaven,” the Master does it again in this story, and even into the Chibnall era with the Cybermasters. The Master has a long history of letting other species fight his battles while they softened up the Doctor. The first time we meet the Master, he’s using Autons to spread chaos. He also endangers the human race with the Axons at one point. However, the Doctor has widened the scope of the Cybermen to go from looking for people with one heart to people with two hearts, namely them. Sadly, this is one more thing that doesn’t make a lot of sense. Were the Cybermen originally hunting out humans exclusively or people with one heart? How many hearts do Nardole and Blue Man Group have? Also, if we get to the point when the Cybermen are upgrading faster than the people on the floors above would ever be able to counter, you would think they might widen their scope to some of the many non-humans aboard the satellite.
One element I haven’t talked a lot about is the humans living on a fake outdoors floor of the satellite. The setting must have been a win-win for the production crew. They don’t have to build a futuristic set when all they need is a farm. Plus it’s weird science fiction, so it’s fun. But honestly, you couldn’t pay me to give a shit about these people. Their whole storyline feels tacked on. Maybe it was a place to have a little human drama, maybe Nardole just needs somewhere to get left behind. After all, we’ve gotta wrap everything up for the new showrunner. God forbid something carries over, lending a sense of continuity. What’s worse is I don’t even really follow a lot of what’s going on with these people. They somehow managed to slip the grasp of the Cybermen even though they could sense Bill’s humanity from the top floor. Furthermore, their evacuation makes very little sense to me.
The humans work best when reacting to Cyber Bill. It’s an interesting contrast to go from how Bill sees herself to how the common folk see her. To them, she is the stuff of nightmares. Every legend of the cruel Cybermen is displayed on the blank and lifeless death shroud that is the Cyberman suit. It’s equal parts burn victim and old-timey camera. The Doctor tells Bill that it was probably her mental exercises from her time with the Monks that have enabled her to resist the Cyberman programming. But even still, Bill has to concentrate not to devolve into a mechanical murderer. I don’t understand this as the Cybermen aren’t usually known for their anger, but somehow it causes Bill’s headpiece to blast a hole in a wall after she gets emotional. I mean, call me crazy, but if my friend was about to lose her mind to the Cyberman collective, I might encourage just about any emotion she can feel. This isn’t Amy succumbing to Dalek anger. We literally just watched a scene where the Cybermen’s emotions are taken away. Why is the Doctor asking Bill to calm down?
Seeing as this is the final time we’ll have real Nardole on the show, it might be good for me to reflect on his character for a bit. Throughout series ten, I found myself slowly warming to Nardole. His characterisation could feel a bit scattered, and I feel this was due to his being what Missy referred to as comic relief. Without a dramatic character arc, as Bill had, Nardole’s personality is a little more fluid. We see him oscillate between Mother Hen and secret badass. These things need not be mutually exclusive, but there are definite moments when the two aspects oppose one another. Regardless, I’m going to miss him. Matt Lucas’ portrayal as Nardole is always charming and never irritating. In a lot of ways, I feel as though Lucas elevates what is on the page. I just wish they’d have given him a better send-off.
In one way, Nardole’s goodbye is a lot like that of a classic companion. Oftentimes companions would leave the show after finding a cause they feel compelled to follow. I always found these moments to feel a bit hollow because they always seemed to spring from convenience. What about this one instance feels different from the others? Sometimes there is a clear need for someone to stick around and help. Nyssa leaves to tend to the ill. Jo joins a revolution with her new freedom fighting beau. Romana stays behind to help out in E-Space. Nardole finds his place among the people of the satellite. It’s a slightly dull goodbye, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t make sense. I mentioned he’s both the secret badass and the Mother Hen, and here he gets to be both. On the farm, Nardole is a family man, able to use his skills to protect his new family. He even draws the attention of a woman who seems to like the way he blows shit up with apples. Yeah, I don’t understand how he did that either. They attempt to explain it, but it’s a pretty bad explanation. The best explanation I could come up with is that the farm is written in computer code, and you could alter that code to alter the physical properties of an apple. Whatever.
The Cybermen work their way up through the floors of the satellite simply by flying upward through the ceilings. It’s kind of awesome, but also very confusing. As I said earlier, the physics of this episode are very muddy. My boyfriend and I were trying to work out how the time dilation worked. Seeing as time is moving faster toward the bottom of the satellite, the Cybermen’s journey upward is going to take them longer than it would to go down, or it would at least feel longer. Presumably, these Cybermen’s journey could take years. And as the Eleventh Doctor asked in “Asylum of the Daleks”- “Where do you get the eggs?” Or in this case, rocket fuel. Cybermen must have a serious reserve of power available if they can make that journey. Perhaps they figured the lift was broken because it’s older than the top of the satellite. There’s only so much good faith “wibbly-wobbly, timey-wimey,” can afford.
The battle with the Cybermen rages on, while the Doctor and his two Time Lord friends are still squashing ancient beefs. I was slightly deflated by the outcome, but I think it may have been Steven Moffat pulling back on the reins. Having Missy become fully good in the Doctor’s eyes would have been gratifying, but ironically her redemption occurs “without witness,” and therefore within the theme of her character arc. After the Doctor spills his guts to Missy and the Master, we’re left with a pregnant pause before the Master flippantly throws the Doctor’s sincerity back in his face. But the lingering shot on Missy implies the Doctor’s words didn’t fall on deaf ears. I like to think that the Master secretly heard every word, it just took where he is as Missy in the future to finally see it for what it is- a plea from her best friend to show compassion. The Doctor’s reaction to Missy and the Master walking away at that moment is tragic. He’ll continue not to know his words ever had an impact.
The Master and Missy’s betrayal of one another is an obvious one. The Master can’t abide Missy’s compassion any more than Missy can abide his sneering cruelty. After stabbing the Master with a poisoned blade, the Master shoots Missy in the back with his laser screwdriver. He gave her the full blast, which I guess stops regenerations. The Master did a lot of strange things with his screwdriver, so it’s possible he could kill a Time Lord with it. Time Lord soldiers carried stasers that allowed them to kill a Time Lord permanently. Would that make this a staser screwdriver? Missy and the Master both share a final laugh as they both settle down to die. Missy in the grass, and the Master on his way to the bowels of the satellite to retrieve his TARDIS and regenerate into maybe Missy, but hopefully the Spy Master. If you can’t tell, I’m really enjoying this new headcanon.
From the very beginning of this story, we see the Doctor refusing to regenerate. The Doctor takes so much damage in this story that it’s hard to know what exactly is killing him. Was it when he was electrocuted? Or perhaps it was when he took several blasts from a Cyberman’s head laser. It’s hard to know. Regardless, he’s refusing to regenerate, except unlike the Tenth Doctor who didn’t want to stop being himself, you get the impression that the Doctor just wants to stop changing. This endless cycle of death and rebirth is weighing on him. Personally, this works more for me than “I don’t want to go,” which left a bad taste in my mouth (though he does quote the line and several others from previous regenerations). Of course the Doctor would rather roll over and die, his best friend just rejected him twice over. The Doctor has never looked more defeated.
Still battling her own personal demons, Cyber Bill comes and gathers the Doctor in her arms like the Pietà. And like the religious iconography would imply, miracles and resurrections are about to occur. Not only was Bill able to maintain her humanity, but she was also capable of crying. We’ve only seen one other Cyberman cry before, and it looked more like green goo. These tears are more like water. The emergence of Heather from Bill’s tears was one I think most of us did not see coming. I wouldn’t be surprised if some of you completely forgot about Heather by this point. The only callback we get is a brief flash of Bill mentioning that she wasn’t sure if the tears in her eyes were her own. Now, I love a good surprise story arc. In season four, Russell T Davies surprised the lot of us when we discovered that the planets disappearing wasn’t just some science fiction trope, but a major plot point. It was surprising in a good way. This Heather reveal feels a little too surprising. Instead of saying “Oh wow,” I found myself saying “Oh yeah.”
If you recall, Heather is very OP. She restores Bill to her old self, sort of. Bill is now a fellow drippy lass. Heather seems to have that effect I suppose. Though she does intimate that she could restore Bill to completely human. You’re welcome, Big Finish. Before Bill and Heather go off to become a cuddle puddle amongst the stars, they bring the Doctor back to his TARDIS where a tear from Bill upon his brow kickstarts the regeneration process. I love the fact that Bill has gone from a thirsty fry cook to a confident explorer. Moister than an oyster, the two blast off into space and I gotta say, I love new Bill. It’s nice to see her and Heather holding hands. I only wish they had maybe done more callbacks to Heather, because it does come out of nowhere.
The Doctor finds himself aboard his TARDIS, once again refusing to regenerate. You can hear a real speech boiling up inside him. He’s really going to give the universe a great what for, but just as he’s building momentum, the TARDIS lands. What’s interesting is that it was following the course entered by Heather. How she knows this is where the Doctor needs to be is just one more drop in the enigmatic ocean that is Heather. Seriously, the more I think about her, the more I want to know. She’s actually a pretty great character. The Doctor opens the TARDIS doors to find himself in the middle of a hard arctic snowstorm. Off in the distance, he hears his younger self, the First Doctor, also refusing to regenerate. We end with the two Doctors standing face to face, both men wearing a bit thin now.
We’re left to presume that these two versions of the Doctor will help one another accept regeneration. It’s a nice final surprise in an episode of big stakes. Seeing David Bradley as the First Doctor in an official capacity is both odd and comforting. It’s odd in that he’s not William Hartnell but has played him and the Doctor in a noncanonical fashion, but it’s comforting in that he already feels like the First Doctor. Besides, it’s not the first time Hartnell has been recast, and I don’t mean Patrick Troughton. I’ll save my impressions on David Bradley’s performance for my next review. With that being said, we’re very close to finishing this rewatch of series ten.
As you’re well aware by now, I decided to roll these two episodes into one review. In the past, I treated multi-part episodes from modern Doctor Who as singular episodes. It felt right to treat these as one big story, and I’m glad I did. I was able to explore the themes better, and I didn’t have to hold off on exploring ideas for the next episode. In truth, I could have even rolled “Twice Upon a Time,” in as a three-parter, but I feel these two episodes have a definite end. What’s weird is that for a farewell episode, the only two people we actually said farewell to are Missy and the Master. In a way only Doctor Who can really do, we’ll actually get to see Bill and Nardole again. With this being my second viewing, I think it’s worth saying that I did find myself enjoying this story more than I had before. But along with increased enjoyment, I also had an increased awareness of the things that didn’t sit right with me the first time. The weakest part of this story is its action and science fiction. While unique in concept, the execution is clumsy and vague. You would be better served thinking of the setting as a catalyst for Steven Moffat to do what he truly wants to do- write Doctor, Missy, and Master slashfic. And I love it.
