Hey folks, big rant time now I've seen the finale!
Well I’ve been thinking on the Doctor Who season finale, and this season as a whole, and my overall feeling is a sort of meh rounded out by a deep sigh. There were good bits, true. I liked the one in the innards of the TARDIS with the scavengers. And Gaiman’s episode had stuff going for it, if hampered by bad direction and an appalling kid, and the odd clunky line from him. And heavens the Gattis one in Yorkshire was rather splendid, with some great turns! (If ultimately disposable)
But the problem with the show of late is just the complete lack of decent – no, any sort - characterisation. It’s a constant case of telling and not showing. I just don’t care about Clara. What has she achieved, eh? I mean accept for the bit right at the end of the finale with that sequence of her running about a bit and falling and running about a bit and falling and then telling crusty old/young Doctor “you should steal this one, lot’s more fun!” and thus invalidating the wonderful conceit behind that lots-better Neil Gaiman episode. Sure, she’s repeatedly saved his life from the Great Intelligence but since we’ve been given no real reason to grow to love the character it comes off as just another overly-complicated and rather yawn-inducing parlour trick by Moffatt.
Rose was a real character. Everyone could identify with her. Martha kicked off helping to save a hospital full of people through her own gumption. Donna was a woman who at heart held herself worthless, and was revealed to be special because we all have that potential buried within us.
Amy… well, Amy was fun. But she was hard to warm to and the baby story arc was horrendous. It was telling that more people were warming to Rory than her, and herein is the terrible problem.
Moffatt can’t write women, at all.
They’re sassy and they’re sexy and they talk-back and they have oh such big secrets behind them. But they’re not their own secrets. They’re the Doctors. They do not have their own dreams or ambitions – they just follow the Doctor around until enough square pegs are hammered into round holes in Moffatts convoluted mystery-hour and are discarded for the next sassy back-talking woman with another circuitous timey-wimey mystery. Argh. This wouldn't be so terrible if the Doctor didn't seem to keep on thinking they were the best thing since sliced bread. Compare any of the Moffatt women to Rose or Ace. They earned it.
It’s a problem handily personified by River Song, a ‘character’ who splits her screen time evenly between razzle-dazzle amoral escape acts, delivering exposition, flirting with the Doctor and saying good-bye. A lot. Every time we think that that’s it, the Doctor-Song thing is wrapped up, she comes back again. To tell us things through Moffatts voice, instead of showing them. It’s really bad writing. And these women he writes, they just don’t have anything they can call their own. Think of a something about Clara other than that she likes to bake soufflés and that she’s a nanny. Did I mention she likes soufflés? She’s the soufflé girl. Y’know, they’re hard to cook and they don’t always come out right but it’s all in the scrip- I mean recipe and those mysteries sure do taste ni-I mean soufflé! It would be so goddamn frustrating if Moffatt wasn’t skilled in other areas. He’s great with the cold-blooded chill. Jenny announcing her own murder, though a trick reprised from one of his previous stories, still worked. And the Bells of St. John wireless disembodied suspended existence was good, if sort of done by him before in the library episode. And what about the big notion of the stars going out and terrible things happening in the wake of the Doctor’s none existence?
Oh wait. Russell T. Davies’ excellent and moving sci-fi dystopia episode Turn Right did that. INFINITELY BETTER.
When all the stories have to be fucked about with to make a clunky mystery that says nothing about characters and fails to reveal anything significant about the Doctor, you ought to stop trying to do meta-arcs. Especially in the all too short space of six or seven episodes. So the big revelation coming is that the Doctor did bad things in a secret incarnation? Well, we all assumed that anyway, just in the form of Paul McGann. Hell, Eccleston’s entire performance was modelled on that concept. Davies wrote it as a key backbone of series one.
Please Moffatt, give up being show-runner. I know I really wanted you to be one originally on the back of a series of excellent stand-alone episodes, but on the basis of this alternating meh-and-d’oh filled season, and half the season before it, I’m beginning to suspect that not only do you not know how to write Doctor Who, but you don’t actually know how to write a good story anymore. It’s a shame too, as all the actors and production team are really giving it their all – I really have no complaint in that department. It’s just you. Ouch.
I cared far more about the five minutes screen time Ada in The Crimson Horror than I do about Clara. That’s a problem, right there.
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