The Ood Cast

I am writing at the end of the week where the good Dok-tor was replaced by a bunch of over-made-up European tunebreakers. Eurovision took preference, and Who fans have had to make do with a teaser trailer again.

I also write this just after the first ever get-together of the Ood Cast writers – fine gentlemen, all – and the night before the Moff unleashes what looks to be an even more frightening story than last year’s Blink. Only this time, we have to get through two episodes behind our white knuckles!

I actually quite like the break to accomodate Eurovision. And that’s not just because I like the Eurovision (although, embarrassingly, perhaps, I do – even if it is mainly for Sir Terry) but it affords us a bit of a breather before we set off on the usually terrifying road to the season finale. And it gives us a chance to ruminate on what’s been and get pant-wettingly excited about what’s coming up.

But some take this more seriously than others. Some can’t stand the week’s break (really – think about how long we had to wait for the series to come back, guys – what’s a week?), and others take what they’re given and over analyse to a ridiculous extent.

My colleague Andrew told us about a fan website he occasionally looks at (I won’t bother plugging it, and you’ll see why*), and that the last time he went there, there was a huge spoiler – the title of the still secret Episode 12 – on the front page for all to see, whether they want to or not. I hate this – I really don’t want to know what’s going to happen until it’s on a TV screen in front of me, thank you very much. And that’s why I’m not overly excited by the mid-season trailer. It was much of a muchness to me – nothing very new here – we knew the Daleks would probably be involved thanks for the pre-season trailers that appeared on the BBC Youtube channel, and the trailers and other interviews with past guests seem to have revealed that we’re also going to see Harriet Jones back, as well as Captain Jack and Sarah Jane Smith (although Rose holding a gun is a bit of a jarring image (not sure a certain timelord is going to approve of that…).

Oh, except of course for the glimpse of what could be Davros.

It would be fabulous if it was. But the thing that rankles is this: some fans have taken the images of the dalek-thing that could be Davros, and are analysing it. So they can try and find out if it really is Davros.

I DON’T WANT TO KNOW! I REALLY, REALLY, REALLY DON’T WANT TO KNOW! And I am not entirely sure if people who do things like that are really proper fans of the show – probably obsessives rather than fans. But why inflict this on others? If you want to spoil it for yourselves, go ahead. Otherwise, go out and meet some people in the flesh instead of online.

I just don’t see the point. The beauty of the last series was enhanced for me by the fact that I steered clear of the fan debates and the speculation online. All the episodes were fresh and new to me – and I loved every second of every one of them – maybe with the exception of the bad CGI Mark-Gatiss-monster in The Lazarus Experiment… and anyone who knows how much I like the Master as a character can only imagine the kind of joy I went through in discovering the final three parts of series 3 (or 29 if you’re picky). I’m more immersed in the whole “whoniverse” this time, and I like it, although some of the more critical judgements of fans make me want to stop paying attention. I’m looking forward to whatever is about to come.

*Of course, were there to be a commentary track for these blog posts, I may accidentally reveal that I didn’t plug it because I forgot the name of the site… Of course, I wouldn’t do such a thing on here…

This is about Fandom. The wonders of it, and the horrible way it can really obstruct other people’s enjoyment of things.

Doctor Who fans, in general (I think) are a wonderful bunch of people. They vary hugely in every way, and cover several generations. Even the younger fans seem to be able to intelligently hold their own in debates over whether the Slitheen should make a wiffy return, or if the Daleks really are the meanest baddies in the “Whoniverse”.

(Incidentally, my pedantic side picked up on something that was said by a 12-year-old fan in a podcast I heard recently. He said that he’d seen “just about all the classic series, which is an achievement for a child of just twelve years of age.” I agree. Especially since many episodes haven’t existed on video since the late 60s/early 70s…)

But there are some who are so set in their ways, so convinced that what went before is better than it can ever be again, that with every new idea, every new theory of the doctor’s past or the development of any plot line that has been used before, that they become willfully destructive and just blow up at the slightest provocation.

So we come to The Doctor’s Daughter. This isn’t a review, as I haven’t seen it yet, but a reflection of the controversy in fandom about this.

This is what is happening, as far as I can tell:
Firstly, people are up in arms that the title is so deliberately provocotive and controversial.
Secondly, the mere idea that the Doctor can have a daughter is appalling to some.

There is something that would counter both of these, to some extent. To find it, let’s quickly hop back to 23 November 1963…

The first Doctor travels with three people, to start with, at least. Two are teachers from a school. The other is his “Grandaughter”. Grandaughter. There you go. That might go some way to explain why the Doctor having a daugher isn’t as controversial as it seems. If the Doctor had a Grandaughter, its a fairly safe assumption that there would have been a generation in between. Perhaps, say, a daughter. And as for the title being deliberately provocotive and controversial… it got you talking about it, didn’t it… What else is it supposed to do?!

Let’s not lose sight of the fact that Doctor Who is cool right now. And its been a long time coming – ever since the mid-80s when Michael Grade got his dirty hands in the pie and started to mess with it, Doctor Who hasn’t been cool. But now, we have a wealth of excellent stuff coming our way – really well-written, produced and performed audio adventures, a TV reincarnation that is better than any of us scarcely believed could have happened, books and new releases of Classic Who coming out of our ears. We have more and more fans – many of them young – joining us, and discovering what helped us through our formative years.

I don’t see the harm in playing with some of the old elements – there are new viewers to entertain these days, and its something that fans should be used to by now. This is our Doctor still, very identifiably our Doctor. But the old days are now a reference in something new and fresh and exciting. I was thrilled just to hear the name of Sir Alastair Lethbridge-Stewart being mentioned in The Poison Sky – he is a legend and I love watching old episodes with him and his UNIT colleagues. But to bring him back now would have been wrong. Even more than it was in Battlefield.

There’s no doubting it, the Doctor has changed. He’s had to. With TV and drama in particular the way it is now, there’s no way he could have returned meandering around for 20 minutes each week, no matter how well written the stories. I know some die-hard fans don’t like the 45 minute format. I’m not entirely sure I am totally with this either – but its the way things are done now. Doctor Who could not compete with US drama or what’s being produced on a regular basis by the BBC, without being dynamic and bold. Being the wonderful and ageing BBC Statesman, strolling round the corridors of Television Centre, is no longer an option.

This Doctor is young and exciting. He makes kids want to be like him. Just like Tom Baker, Peter Davison, Jon Pertwee, Colin Baker, Sylv McCoy and the rest did for us. A whole new generation of kids are pretending to battle Cybermen and Daleks in school playgrounds at break time. Isn’t that more important than if the Doctor’s hair is exactly the same two weeks in a row, or if they do something that contradicts a line in The War Machines?

And so what if this Doctor wears a suit with trainers? The one before wore a leather jacket. I think its a slight improvement on a question-mark-emblazoned tank-top or a coat that looks like he just mugged a passing gypsy. Don’t you?

For interests sake, here is a blog I wrote a year or two ago about a trip to Cardiff, it contains some more interesting nuggets about who and me (me and who, there’s so much for us to do) …

Let me put this bluntly. There’s no way to sugar coat it, I’m a geek. A card carrying, statistic spouting, pedant spluttering member of the cultural elite. In fact I’m not just one kind of geek, I’m legion. I’m a computer geek and a theatre geek and a movie buff geek and a comics geek but more than anything else, oh so very much more, I’m a Doctor Who geek. Yes, from 1989 onwards I’ve been in the thrall of the timelord and I can’t think of a programme that’s had a more positive effect on my life. While other young boys had heroes who kicked balls into far off nets or slaughtered hundreds of enemy soldiers with a belt-fed machine gun, my hero defeated evil with little more than a bag of jelly babies and an off the wall sense of humour.

This may sound silly but I can actually remember making the decision to be more like the Doctor, to clown around and let people underestimate me, to attack any new situation with a mixture of childish enthusiasm and deep thought. I don’t think it’s too far-fetched to say that the man I am today owes a lot to the values instilled in me then. I still abhor violence, I still love traveling and meeting people, I even sometimes still walk with my hands clasped behind my back (although admittedly this did look very odd when I was 9 years old, I kept overbalancing and falling on my head).

Anyway, all of this is preamble to the fact that today saw myself and the Bannerman rocketing down the M5 toward Cardiff, the current home of the Dr Who production team. The sun was blazing, the windows were open and the conversation was lively and interesting. It was the perfect Bank Holiday weekend activity, a spontaneous road trip to a new city on a sparkling spring day.

Cardiff Bay is a truly amazing place, a real patchwork of architectural styles and eras, all crowding around the oval of the bay itself. Some of the buildings are simply beautiful, all cool grays and burnished bronze in the afternoon sun. I couldn’t quite escape the feeling I’d walked onto a set, what with so many of them having featured in the good Doctor’s adventures over the past two years. In an act of almost breathtaking geekiness, I even got my picture taken where the TARDIS was last seen landing.

There I am, all pleased with myself. What a content little wally I am.

Ha, but what a day. I’ve even written about it verbatim on the blog. And I almost never do that. It’s just that today I’ve seen Cybermen and Daleks, jumped over benches and laughed a lot about nothing in particular. It was such a liberating, surprising day and I didn’t even know it was going to happen.

I’ve stood where one of my heroes has stood and it made me smile.

I had three beginnings.

Of course I didn’t but wouldn’t it have been ever so elegant if I had? In actual fact I had five beginnings, one after the other in the space of an hour. Yes, my first experience of Dr Who was Terrence Dick’s “The Five Doctors” which is by any measure a crazy ass episode for anyone to enter the Whoniverse.

For one thing it follows none of the rules of the series as a whole, imagine watching that thing if you had no idea about the history of the show. Right, so this guy’s the Doctor and he travels to different planets in a blue box. Wait a minute, that guy’s also a Doctor, I wonder what his deal is? Oh, it’s exactly the same as the first guy’s, they haven’t even bothered to invent another back story. More questions followed: Why do those two seem to be acting in an entirely different show? Why does she keep spraining her ankle? Couldn’t she have just walked up that slope?

And yet … and yet … I was enthralled. Which meant that when in 1989 Dr Who burst (then limped) back into regular programming, I was beside myself. No behind the sofa for me, I had my face pressed up against the screen. It was ‘Ace give me one of those Nitro-9s you’re not carrying’ BOOM! and I was in love.

Favourite Doctor:

Will always be Sylvester McCoy. Not because he was all I knew, not because I didn’t know any better. He was just MY Doctor – dark, strange, clownish and complex. His Doctor was like nothing else on TV, not just the good guy but multi-faceted, a master-manipulator, so alien, so other when he wanted to be. I think I just instinctively knew that I wasn’t being pandered to with this one – 9 years old and something was speaking to me in all the glorious greys and half-tones of the real world. So yes, I firmly believe Dr Who had it’s own little renaissance at the fag-end of the century with stories like Remembrance, Ghostlight, and Fenric earning their place as really top-flight Who. Then came the New Adventures which went that one step further into territory I’d certainly never been before. I still remember the gist of the blurb on the back cover of one of the first novels (Timewyrm? Cat’s Cradle?) ‘Only the Doctor can save them. But the Doctor was destroyed years ago. Before time began …’ I couldn’t keep it in my head, couldn’t contain the worlds conjured up to dance before me, the ideas, the scale, the complexity of the continuum and through it all the rich seam of the McCoy Doctor – impish and strange, clever and comical – the grinning, winking tip of a cold, alien intelligence that spread out like a glacier beneath the surface.

Of course, all that said, David Tennant is beyond fantastic and the only other Doctor that convinces me the guy is operating on a completely different level to everyone else. The Doctor is not human, lest me forget, he’s not just really, really ridiculously clever – he perceives things differently to us, he can see time in the same way we can see length, width, height, volume – all that possibility, all those choices slowly solidifying around him, fixing future history in place just by his presence (and brilliantly realised and articulated in ‘Fires of Pompeii’ might I say [YES - first mention of Series 4 - and all because my colleagues have been gracious enough to wait for me to catch up, what a rotter!]). Tennant sells the hell out of the character and it is his obvious, joyous, infectious love for the role that ultimately lifts the current iteration of the show to a level that precious few programmes can match.

The last word should be left to Sylvester though in probably my favourite Dr Who quote of all time – ‘I can’t stand burnt toast. I loathe bus stations – terrible places, full of lost luggage and lost souls. And then there’s unrequited love, and tyranny, and cruelty. We all have a world of our own terrors to face.’

Perfect.

Favourite story:

I have loads. Apart from the McCoy classics mentioned above I would also like to give massive shout outs to City of Death, The Time Meddler, Caves of Androzani, The Green Death, Genesis of the Daleks, The Empty Child, Girl in the Fireplace and most of the latter half of Season 3. It really is a stellar time to be a Dr Who fan, isn’t it?

Oh and Dimensions in Time.

Kidding.

Monster/ enemy:

Not to be the contrarian of the group (which I am unfortunately) but I love the Daleks. They work and it’s crazy because it’s like Terry Nation just threw a load of concepts at a wall (like they were spaghetti that he wasn’t sure was quite done) and the bits that stuck he went with. The stupid wheeled design, the one eye, the plunger, the spots, the car grill, the weedy laser, the voice – it’s like the worse designed monster ever both in practicality and menace and yet when you put it together it’s a dalek and it’s ultimately cool. I was bouncing off the walls in the Ecelston episode – when the eyes flashed in the darkness. Awesome.

Also the Raston Assassin Robot thing. Take that you rubbish Cybermen idiots. You don’t like that cold steel up you, do you? Thought you were only vulnerable to gold? Well prepare to be retconned you motherf***ers coz it looks like you’ll also go down like a bitch when faced with the might of normal metal arrows. Hahahahahaha!

Which companion did you either want to be or fancy:

Peri … in the regeneration scene. No one was looking at you, Peter.

No one.

What are you looking forward to?:

I’m going to be honest here – absolutely everything. I can’t wait. But especially Moffet shenanigans.

Dreading:

Catherine Tate. She’s alright but I’m not a fan and she doesn’t make my heart go pitter patter like Rose did.

I should now go on and talk about episode 1 and 2 but I think I’ll leave the honour of commencing the geekathon to one of my esteemed colleagues that deserve it oh so very much more than me.

Go for your life, guys.