Peter Capaldi’s 12th Doctor regeneration was everything he deserved. Twelve was the most tormented Doctor, the most haunted by his past, so full of secret pains we would never know about. He really felt like he was hiding back so much, and was putting on a mask so much of the time. Seeing the Doctor find peace in himself, and the optimism in himself (herself!!!) for the future, was absolutely incredible. I honestly can’t think of a more suiting end for Twelve. It was bittersweet, but I feel like I can comfortably and peacefully say goodbye.
ID: sketch of nardole standing at the vault door, missy is on the other side sitting down and leaning her back on it. There’s an image of a text message split up and placed above them. Nardole says “Open up. Now.”
Missy says “What. It all started when I was 8 tbh”
My late and great friend Quin was a Doctor Who fan. He and I watched many an hour of Doctor Who on Netflix while we lived together. The beautiful thing about watching Doctor Who with Quin was that we each experienced the show differently. Quin tended to like the romance stuff while I was more into the weird sci-fi elements. This difference was possibly no better exemplified than through our reactions to regeneration episodes. Having started on the Ninth Doctor, Quin needed a couple of weeks to mourn his passing before he could move on to David Tennant. While I do take a moment to say goodbye to the Doctor, a part of me is ready to move on to the next. Quin eventually warmed up to David Tennant and went through the same mourning phase after he left. Contrarily, my reaction to hearing the line “I don’t want to go,” was to say “Ew, go.”
Modern Doctor regeneration episodes are often gooey with mawkish sentimentality, all the more so when it’s also the showrunner’s final episode. It’s a trend that started with the Tenth Doctor and has continued so far. The closest approximation to such a drippy farewell from classic Doctor Who would be perhaps the Fourth Doctor dying around friends he barely knows, or the Fifth Doctor’s talking heads. Most of the classic Doctors die unexpectedly or off-camera. With “Twice Upon a Time,” being both Peter Capaldi and Steven Moffat’s final story in Doctor Who, we expect a bit of self-indulgence. We’ll grant them the odd flight of fancy as a sort of victory lap. We expect them to play the hits. But if I’m honest, it’s still kind of a lot.
I can’t imagine it’s an easy balance to achieve with a final episode of anything. There’s a desire to tell a compelling story while also crafting a sort of curtain call for all of the players. In the case of “Twice Upon a Time,” the former concern of compelling storyline doesn’t appear to be one of which Steven Moffat has burdened himself with. This isn’t an insult, merely an observation. An observation I believe is important when you consider Steven Moffat has always been the big ideas guy. Like the Twelfth Doctor saying “Can’t I ever have peace? Can’t I rest?” Moffat has decided to relax a little, and I’m so uncomfortable. Steven Moffat is in full-on rest mode. He’s your dad, you have friends over, and he’s walking through the kitchen with an open robe and day-old drawers on. Dude doesn’t give a fuck. The worst part is, he’s lingering and asking your friends questions about school. Mortifying.
Ok, so maybe it’s not just Steven Moffat being a little self-indulgent with their writing. I think I needed to vent because I just watched the opposite of “kill your darlings.” Steven Moffat took his darlings, this invasive species made in his image and said “Be free my darlings!” Like Tarantino and feet, David Lynch and dangerous women, or Larry Clark with shirtless dudes, Moffat has his own signature fixations. Who could forget his Edwardian dominatrix fetish as seen with Madame Kovarian, Missy, or Sherlock’s own Irene Adler? Or how about the time when the Teselecta extracts people at their time of death? Or when Missy extracts people at their time of death? Or when Testimony extracts people at their time of death? That one is definitely on display. But out of all of Moffat’s calling cards present and accounted for, perhaps the most insidious would be his casual misogyny.
With the introduction of the First Doctor into a modern Doctor Who setting, Moffat, in all of his infinite wisdom, decided to take the hard stance that the First Doctor, an alien from Gallifrey, would be hung up on 1960’s sexism and homophobia. It’s all done in a very winking fashion as well. “Look how far we’ve come since the backwards ’60s! Isn’t it crazy people used to talk like that? We’re so much further along now.” Like when Mel regenerated into River Song and the first thing she did was weigh herself and go shopping. Which is feminism because women do be shopping. I could have gone with one line that may have come off as iffy, but this was a recurring joke that felt dishonest to the character of the First Doctor. The First Doctor would never compare women to glass. He expected women to rise to their potential, not dust his fucking TARDIS. The jolly old smacked bottom line, on the other hand, is of course something he has and would say. So fair dos.
Thematically, introducing the First Doctor is a pretty clever move. As I mentioned above, I wasn’t a big fan of the Tenth Doctor’s departure. I began to wonder if the Tenth Doctor’s actual cause of death wasn’t old age while making his farewell tour. This story feels as though Moffat is trying to reinvent the concept but from a different angle. I touched upon it briefly in my previous review. The key difference being that while the Tenth Doctor didn’t want to change, the Twelfth Doctor doesn’t want to keep changing. He’s tired of the constant cycle of death, violence, and heartbreak. It’s fortuitous then that he should run into another man also late for his appointment with the reaper. That man of course is Mark Gatiss’ Captain Archibald. You thought I was going to say the First Doctor, didn’t you?
The introduction of the First Doctor merely completes a theme that would be otherwise non-existent without Captain Archibald. You see, just before appearing before the Doctor, the Captain had been staring down the barrel of German pistol, both he and his apparent enemy in a stand-off. We watch the Captain transition from a soldier bravely facing his demise to a man forced to sit and consider his entire existence. Why this pertains to the First Doctor is that it was through humans that he was able to become more than a renegade. It’s appropriate then that the First Doctor be present to witness Captain Archibald grappling with the end of his mayfly existence. The two Doctors need his human experience far more than that of each other. And certainly, they aren’t getting it from Bill.
The glass replica of Bill is an odd story device that I don’t understand. Her primary function is to make the Doctor distrust Testimony, as anyone taking on his dead friend’s face must be evil, right? And this is the real issue with including Bill- it doesn’t make any sense. For starters, what point did Testimony make Bill? Was it when Blue Man Group shot a Looney Tunes hole through her chest? Or was it when the Cybermen turned her into Cyber Bill? Or maybe it was when Heather converted her body into a “sentient oil,” thus ending the human life of Bill Potts? No? She remembers all of that? Oh. Evidently, Bill died young, or sentient oil doesn’t age, or maybe Testimony doesn’t respect the ageing process and remembers humans as young? The other weird aspect is that the Doctor flip-flops on how he treats her. In one scene she’s just a replica, in other scenes, the Doctor is referring to her for advice. The episode can’t seem to decide if Bill is genuine or as real as a three dollar Bill.
Possibly the worst part of Bill’s introduction is that for a brief moment, they tease a cameo from Carole Ann Ford with Bill’s silhouette. It could have been one of the most exciting moments in Doctor Who history, and instead, it’s like “What? Why? We already said goodbye to Bill. Why is she here?” The First Doctor promised Susan he would be back and they had the perfect set-up. It’s like watching a bad movie where the characters are watching a good movie. It’s not a great idea to make the audience think about the better story we could have had. This is in no way a slight on Pearl Mackie either. I just can’t shake the idea that focusing more on Captain Archibald may have been a more effective use of screentime. But it’s that desire to do a curtain call, I suppose. One of which even brings back a few other Moffat inventions- Rusty the self-hating Dalek and Villengard.
While I complained about the old fashioned way they depicted the First Doctor, I was pleased by the scene where he can identify the asymmetry of Testimony’s glass face. That is how you present a classic Doctor in a modern Doctor Who setting. His methods are practical, but his observations are rooted in science. By looking with his eyes, he was able to deduce that she must be based on a real person, as a computer would not render an asymmetric face. It’s a marriage of the old and new far more effective than the First Doctor demeaning women. The First Doctor’s observation inspires the Twelfth Doctor to explore deeper answers using one of the greatest databases of all time- the Dalek Hivemind.
After a quick escape from Testimony in the First Doctor’s TARDIS, the Doctors, Three Dollar Bill, and Captain Archibald travel to Villengrad where Rusty has tapped into their legendary weapons systems. Daleks outside their casings scurry around the base of a tower where Rusty has set up a sort of sniper nest for taking out Daleks. It’s cool I guess. I like Rusty, so it’s a welcome treat to see him again. I also like that he didn’t die, so future writers can explore the concept of a morally ambiguous Dalek, should they so desire. The Doctor talks Rusty into helping him because helping the Doctor hurts the Daleks. It’s an enemy of my enemy situation, and it’s enough to keep the Doctors alive at the hands of a very deadly Dalek. Using Rusty’s connection to the hivemind, we learn that Testimony is merely a group of distant humans taking it upon themselves to document the lives of the dead. As the Doctor said- it’s not an evil plot.
During all of this, Mark Gatiss is busy giving the performance of his life as Captain Archibald. We find that the reason time stopped before his death was from Testimony’s need to archive his life. But in the waiting, he has found that he has lost his nerve. Like the Doctors, he must face his death. The trade-off is that Testimony will give the Doctor Bill in exchange for the Captain, which honestly, doesn’t make much sense. I don’t even know why this is on the table. Nothing about how Testimony operates makes a lot of sense. They’re benevolent, but sneaky and kidnappy. They offer to exchange life for life. When the hell did they pick up Bill? When the hell did they pick up Nardole? The Doctor, a Time Lord, could barely pilot his miracle time machine to save the humans from the previous episode, so he had to leave Nardole behind. Do you mean to tell me that a group of future humans can pinpoint Nardole’s point of death in a satellite next to a black hole with accuracy? And once again, like Bill, did Nardole die young?
I think this is where the goodwill of the audience begins to feel strained. More than anything, it’s a writing issue. It smacks of a first draft. Not only are bad ideas explored, they’re revisited until they lose any initial cleverness. Nardole isn’t just bald, he has invisible hair and glass nipples. I’ve complained in these reviews that we don’t learn much about Nardole, but I could have gone the rest of my life without learning either of those things. Much of the dialogue in this episode feels excessive. The First Doctor can’t just one and done it with the sexism, they have to keep returning to it. The Twelfth Doctor can’t just say “Oh, and you mustn’t tell anyone your name. No one would understand it, anyway. Except children.” He has to draw it out with “Children can hear it sometimes… If their hearts are in the right place… and the stars are too… children can hear your name.” Steven, mate, edit! It’s like every clever line of dialogue is wrung out for every drop of meaning until nothing clever remains. It reminds me of the Leela quote from Futurama- “Fry, remember I when I told you about always ending your stories a sentence earlier?”
Along with saying goodbye to Steven Moffat and Peter Capaldi, we’re also saying goodbye to Murray Gold who is at his most cloying with this cheery Christmas score that doesn’t match the tone. As I said in my previous reviews, I much prefer Segun Akinola’s music to his. I don’t mean to badmouth Gold’s contributions to the show, he’s had some solid bangers. Generally, it’s just not my style, much like Christmas episodes aren’t my thing either. However, as Christmas episodes go, this is the least annoying one to date. The fact that it’s Christmas only becomes apparent when they return the Captain to his crater only to have his death averted by Christmas carolling. Using a bit of time meddling, the Doctor was able to drop Captain Archibald into the relatively safe Christmas Armistice- a time when British and German soldiers came together for a cease-fire on Christmas Day. Before saying goodbye, we learn that Captain Archibald’s last name is Lethbridge-Stewart, which I found less hokey this time. It’s a nice way to do a Christmas episode in that it doesn’t dictate much of the rest of the proceedings. Though it is the only moment wherein the incongruous music fits.
The first Doctor can move on to his next regeneration after realising that becoming a Doctor of war can be a positive thing. Seeing the soldiers come together allows him to see that along with the fear and death comes joy and prosperity. I was reminded of Latimer’s description of the Doctor from “The Family of Blood,”- “He’s ancient and forever. He burns at the centre of time and he can see the turn of the universe… And he’s wonderful.” The First Doctor rejoins fake Ben and Polly and reverts back to William Hartnell to regenerate into the Second Doctor. It’s been nice to see David Bradley playing the First Doctor. It’s something only Doctor Who can do, using the person who played William Hartnell in a biopic to then go on and play Hartnell’s Doctor for real. The man just works so well as the First Doctor. My only qualm with his performance is that he never feels as mischievous as the First Doctor could be. Hartnell had a sort of goading quality that I find lacking in Bradley’s performance.
The Twelfth Doctor says goodbye to Bill and Nardole and tells them that he needs to make his choice alone. Even after everything he’s seen, the Doctor can’t decide if he wants to regenerate or not. Personally, I could have gone for not. I loved Capaldi so much that I could have stood to see him go on for as long as Tom Baker. He brought a casualness and vulnerability to the role in a way I don’t think any have done quite as well before him. But all good things must come to an end. It’s pretty obvious though what the Doctor’s choice is going to be. The universe has convinced him to stick around, but first he has a few things to say to the next incarnation. In a fourth-wall breaking moment, the Doctor acts as a mouthpiece to Chris Chibnall and literally lays out the foundation for the Doctor’s morality. This is why when the Doctor says “They’ll get it all wrong without me,” it doesn’t just feel pointed, but prophetic.
The Doctor closes his eyes and accepts his regeneration as the regeneration energy arcs and sparks, exploding every cell in his body. The Doctor reopens her eyes and they are the brown of Jodie Whittaker’s eyes. Even though I now know the lacklustre writing that is to follow, I still find myself overjoyed to see the Doctor turn into a female. I was surprised to see that it still felt exciting. Much of Twice Upon a Time is so leisurely that it’s easy to forget that it contains the most controversial scene in Doctor Who since the Sixth Doctor choked Peri. I am glad I rewatched this episode because it was nice to remember a time when the future of Doctor Who felt exciting and new. In this way, rewatching series ten has reminded me of the exciting possibilities on the horizon with the Fourteenth Doctor.
And that’s me for the tenth series of modern Doctor Who. When I started this rewatch, I was sceptical that my opinion would change much. Coming away from it, I feel as though it may be Moffat’s finest work in the series. It’s as good as anything from the Russell T Davies era, if not better. That is, of course, entirely arguable. One of the things I enjoyed most about this rewatch was getting to share it with my boyfriend. His contribution to these articles was subtle, but the key to helping me organise my thoughts and find direction in my writing. I am also grateful to my friend Taryn who gave me the initial challenge of giving this series another go. We’ve talked about it a lot over the last few months- how Doctor Who can change for you over time. We remove the expectations preceding a first time viewing, and what remains is what is. It’s a nice reminder that Doctor Who doesn’t have to be what you expect in order to be good.
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.
Memory is not always reliable. I’ve been realising that over and over during my series ten rewatch. For instance, I wrongly remembered “The Eaters of Light,” as the episode that made the internet angry for having a cameo by Ed Sheeran. You might even understand my confusion. I remembered a young band of soldiers. Also, pepper in memories of Arya Stark with the Twelfth Doctor, and you’ve got me mistaking Game of Thrones for Doctor Who. What’s funny is that an Ed Sheeran cameo is exactly the type of thing Doctor Who would do. I have misremembered a lot of this episode, and it has been a bit of a revelation. You see, I hadn’t watched “The Eaters of Light,” since it first aired, and I have no idea why. Because it’s great.
My initial reaction to “The Eaters of Light,” wasn’t unkind. I enjoyed it, but I was still reeling from Twin Peaks, as I’ve discussed before in this series. I remember thinking that the baddies reminded me a lot of the bone vampire from Futurama. I seriously doubt there is any connection, but I’ll add a photo of the two together below because it’s kind of phenomenal the similarities. Both are aggressive, blue, dragon-like killers that leave their prey boneless. Other than that, I found the episode to be a fairly standard Doctor Who. Perhaps it’s simply the passing of time, or maybe it’s the subpar writing of the Chibnall era, but the concept of “standard Doctor Who,” feels a bit more valuable these days.
Looking at this episode now, calling it standard is a slap in the face. Don’t get me wrong, it’s not without its flaws. But like good Doctor Who, its heady ideas and strong characterisation allow for flaws. Sometimes, the flaws are part of the charm. A crow that says, Doctor? Sure, why not. There’s a rune shaped like the TARDIS? Go right ahead. A lot of the opening scene with the children at Devil’s Cairn reminded me of the Seventh Doctor era, particularly the later stuff. The little boy telling the girl of the ghosts in the hills. The little girl is drawn to the hills by the distant sound of battle songs. It could have been part of the Cartmel era and I would not have batted an eye. I later discovered that the episode’s writer, Rona Munro, was returning to Doctor Who for the first time since she wrote “Survival,” the latest of all Sylvester McCoy stories. Immediately you can see the similarities in her writing. I wasn’t aware I was going to discover a new favourite Doctor Who writer, but Rona Munro for showrunner, please. Kthanxbai.
I like the laid back approach to dialogue that Munro takes. The Doctor and Bill have arrived in second century Aberdeen, at the site of the Devil’s Cairn, to settle a bet about the missing Roman Ninth Legion. Bill says they left, the Doctor says they were beaten. It’s nice to begin on such a modest premise. It feels real to the Doctor and Bill’s relationship that they may want to settle a bet. You can really see a lot of Seven and Ace in this interaction as well. Bill’s got that funky vibe about her that makes her effortlessly cool, just like Ace. The Doctor is looking like the king of swag with his royal blue lined overcoat. I love when they subtly change aspects of the Doctor’s costume, and replacing his iconic red with a deep blue is such a lovely sight to behold. But not to be outdone is good ol’ Nardole, decked out like a Hare Krishna who just joined the Spin Doctors. That joke will kill with the 35-50 crowd.
Nardole is in sharp focus for this story. More than any episode previous, they have really given dear Nardy rather a lot to do. Munro focuses on Nardole’s motherly qualities and shows them as a strength instead of him as a strict matriarch of the TARDIS. It pays off in moments when Nardole is able to ingratiate himself with the local Picts by using charm and respect. A lot of Capaldi’s Twelfth Doctor’s interactions with people are known for their lack of sugar coating. You get the impression that he’s trying to save time, to hold truth as a higher priority than someone’s feelings. Here, we get to see Nardole teach the Doctor a thing or two about the merits of sensitivity, but that’s getting ahead of ourselves.
The TARDIS crew gets split up early on, into two separate groups. The Doctor and Nardole with a group of baby faced Picts, and Bill with a similarly youthful group of survivors of the Ninth Legion. Bill finds her new group of comrades after a close scrape with one of the titular Eaters of Light (or EoL as I’ll refer to them from now on.) The Doctor and Nardole are taken prisoner by the Picts after discovering the body of a Roman Soldier whose bones are completely gone. The Doctor mentions that it’s what might happen if you were to remove every trace of light from a human body. It’s like death by ultra-rickets. If you recall from my previous review, I whinged about how they have to give every alien a gimmicky way to kill, but I feel like this one works better for a few reasons. For starters, the prosthetics department knocked it out of the park with the dead bodies. They’re horrific. Also, it’s a thoughtful consideration of what sucking the light out of a person might do. I really love the concept. I always talk about body horror, which this certainly is, but it’s also smart.
While the TARDIS is an integral part of Doctor Who, rarely does it get the chance to do more than be a means of conveyance. It was nice then, to see the TARDIS’ translation circuits come into play in a meaningful way. There’s a theme about communication that is integral to the story. For instance, Nardole gets in good with the Picts by being charming and blending in with their customs. Bill learns to speak to the Romans and even has an understanding with them over a surprisingly open-minded conversation about sexuality. And the crows yearn to communicate with humans. It is also through the lack of communication where our characters face their greatest hurdles. The EoL are fearsome, but if these two warring sides of moon-faced warriors cannot come together, all hope is lost.
The Doctor learns that the Picts have been using the Cairn to vent a tear in space and time a few times a year, to keep it from tearing open and unleashing unholy hell upon our universe. They appoint a warrior to be a guardian of the gateway, to hold back the EoL. The Doctor peers into the portal long enough to see a swarm of EoL swirling and swimming about a pool of blue shimmery light. The Doctor emerges from the Cairn to the stunned faces of the Picts and Nardole who is telling stories to the tribal locals like he was C-3PO. According to Nardole, the Doctor had been gone for two days, eight hours, and five minutes. The gate’s guardian, Kar, didn’t expect him back at all. Why should she care? After all, she warned him.
Despite being gone for two days, Nardole was still unable to locate Bill, who is still hiding away in a cave with the legionaries. Her close call with the EoL left her slimed with a black substance that makes her sick. After a couple of days of being exposed to what little sunlight there is available inside a cave, Bill is back on her feet. The soldiers have taken great care to nurse her back to health, and even share some of their dwindling rations to build her strength. Bill begins telling the men about the Doctor, and how if they can find him, they may have a chance to stop the EoLs and hopefully survive. After a lot of apprehensions, the men agree that they would rather die fighting than in a dark cave. Ironically, it’s this action that puts the Picts and the Romans in the same room.
I mentioned that the TARDIS gets a chance to play a bigger role in the storyline, and here it doesn’t just affect the outcome of events but also plays into the theme of the episode. Because of everyone’s newfound association with the Doctor and the TARDIS, they are now able to speak with one another, in each other’s language. Because of this, they’re able to see one another for what they really are- a group of scared kids, just trying to survive. Kar has the hardest lesson here as a lot of their current predicament is of her own making. With a horde of Roman invaders imminent, she had planned to use the EoL to her advantage. Usually, guardians keep the EoL at bay with prisms that filter light into something poisonous to them, but Kar decides to instead use the EoL to ward off the Ninth Legion. The Ninth Legion will be stopped and will have softened the EoL up enough for her to deliver the finishing blow. Except it was too good at killing, and now she and her people are on the menu.
The Doctor and Kar have a tumultuous relationship, but you get the sense that the Doctor feels the need to impart hard truths to her. Nardole may charm her, but she needs straight talk. She needs to grow up. I like to imagine that the Doctor sees a bit of himself in Kar. He’s been in her position and probably wishes someone like him would have talked some sense into him. And it’s yet another breath of fresh air when Kar actually listens and takes the Doctor’s advice. It’s refreshing that people can still be reasonable in Doctor Who. I often joke that the Third Doctor era always needed a character who can only be described as an insufferable prick. The character who, had they not existed, nobody would have had to die. So it’s nice to see Kar listen to reason. It feels more human and less at service to the plot. Kar wants to survive. Kar wants to fix her mistake. It’s far more interesting to see that she sees this. It’s far more interesting to watch her try.
It’s interesting, how the Doctor can often have the wrong solution to a problem. The Doctor’s solution to defeating the EoL is of course to put himself into the gateway. He’s a Time Lord, after all, he can live longer and regenerate when he dies. But nobody in the room is on board with his idea, especially Bill. While it is very much like the Doctor to selflessly throw his life away, it’s also not his fight. Instead, a brave group of the Picts and legionaries band together to ward off the EoL with their prisms and weapons. They force the beast back through the gate and follow it in, their shadows freezing in time like objects entering a black hole. Their final moments holding back the EoL for years, with only the distant battle song ringing out from the hills. Kar’s name gets written upon the standing stones at Devil’s Cairn so she and her sacrifice will be remembered forever. Speaking of the standing stones, did anyone else notice that one of the runes looked like the seal of Rassilon? Maybe it’s just me.
Now I would like to take a moment to talk about the crows because it’s a bit stupid. In fact, it was the only part in the episode where my boyfriend and I looked at each other and rolled our eyes. You see, according to the Doctor, crows used to speak to humans until humans stopped having intelligent conversations with them. This is why the caw of a crow sounds like a big sulk. But as it turns out, crows have not been saying “caw,” but rather “Kar,” as a sort of memorial. That’s right, they gave crows their “A Good Man Goes to War,” moment. “We get that word from you, you know.” I’m not saying it’s the worst moment in Doctor Who, but it’s the worst moment in an otherwise great episode. Like, that’s honestly my harshest criticism of the episode, other than maybe the fact that the scene where they walked through the gateway looked about as technologically advanced as the gateway in “Nightmare of Eden.” Hell, the whole gateway looks like the Forth Doctor intro. It’s a bit naff, even if I do appreciate the detail of the warriors frozen in time.
Recently, I was at one of my closest friends’ house for a bit of classic Doctor Who. While there, he mentioned that while he’s been on board for Jodie, he feels that Doctor Who hasn’t felt like Doctor Who with a female Doctor. I was sad to hear him say this, as I still believe in the concept, but I kinda let him say it without much debate. But after rewatching “The Eaters of Light,” I had to confront my pal with a new argument for why a female Doctor can and should work. That argument can be made with two words- Michelle Gomez. While not the Doctor, Missy does something very integral to Doctor Who lore. She shows that if you nail the tone and writing of a character, it doesn’t matter what gender, colour, or shape they are. Steven Moffat gave us a proof of concept and Chris Chibnall completely ignored it. At least my pal didn’t ignore my argument. He even agreed.
It’s not hard to see why. Missy is incredibly compelling as a character. Not only is she wicked, but she has depth that few other Masters have achieved. Delgado, while being the first person in the role, was pretty one-note as a character. Anthony Ainley added a smarmy glee to the character that suited him well. And while I love Sacha Dhawan and John Simm, both, their characterisation is also pretty one-note. Evil for the sake of evil. I would say that Missy’s characterisation is closer to that of Peter Pratt or Geoffrey Beevers’ crispy Master. Like them, she has woes about wasting her lives. However, she now appears to be equally as distraught by the wasting the lives of others. Science fiction rarely changes the format. Sure, Davros and the Doctor can share a laugh, but in the end, it’s back to fighting. For the first time in Doctor Who’s history, it feels as though the Master could have a change of heart, and what’s most astounding is that if they had chosen to go fully down that path, it would have felt earned. As I said about Kar, it’s more interesting to watch Missy go through these emotions for real than for it to all be an elaborate plot. And what a comfort that might be for Missy if that were all it was. It’s compelling stuff.
It was Missy and the Doctor’s interaction in this episode that helped me come to a conclusion- series ten may be the best Master storyline ever told. I can see arguments for or against this claim, but it’s honestly the most I’ve ever been engaged with the character. It’s not just Michelle Gomez’s stellar performance, it’s about the delivery and execution. So much of “The Eaters of Light,” feels like classic Doctor Who, but also feels so modern. We need stories where the themes of the show are explored and mined for meaning. The TARDIS isn’t just a van driving the kids to practice. These aren’t throw-away concepts that have been done to death. Doctor Who regenerates, and it’s cynical to say there are no new stories. Episodes like this are exactly what the future of Doctor Who needs. It’s classic storytelling with proper characterisation while exploring old concepts in new ways. Seriously, I hope she writes more.
