Day 819: The Woman Who Lived

If Deep Breath promised us that the Capaldi era would bring with it a renewed focus on longer conversations and letting the characters breathe, then The Woman Who Lived turns that promise up to 11 (or rather, 12). It's a fascinating story to consider because it only really has enough plot to sustain itself for around 20 minutes, and so the rest of the time is just spent sitting and talking with the characters, as we consider the ramifications of the previous episode for the woman currently known as Me.

So Me is the woman who used to call herself Ashildr, the girl who the Doctor made immortal in The Girl Who Died. And, as the Doctor hinted at in that story, it's not a decision that she's entirely happy with in the long term. You see, for all that we might see immortality as a blessing, you have to realise that there are so may downsides to it that you never consider beyond that beautiful upside that is 'not dying'. It's all about seeing everyone else die around you, and you can do nothing to stop them from dying, so you're forced to mourn their deaths and move on. And one of the interesting things about the character of Me is that she's effectively immunised herself to this notion of mourning and caring for other people's lives. There's plenty of moments in the episode where she's presented with the prospect of killing someone and you know that she's only not going to do it to ensure that the Doctor remains onside. It's this lack of care that inherently disgusts him, as seen in the Doctor's underplayed reaction to Me's outburst about being left in a leper colony - a colony that she herself set up because she used to have some care for other people.

And there's a lot more besides this to talk about, like the juxtaposition of the Doctor travelling in his effective immortality alongside Me's forced slow path approach, or the beautiful use of books as memories - a simple physical representation of Me's life and the way in which she approaches it. But those are for another time - I've got an assignment that I need to finish off and that must take precedence. Anyway, it's not as if we're not going to be seeing more of Me soon...

Day 818: The Girl Who Died

One of the things that's interesting about Series 9 is what it does with the character of the Doctor. After the previous series decided to investigate the possibility of a darker Doctor, with many of the stories being structured around this question of whether the Doctor is a good man or not, Series 9 seems to be reasonably content with saying that he is a good man, and allows Capaldi to play the Doctor as a lighter, friendlier figure (this is, of course, not constant throughout the series, but we'll deal with that in a couple of days). And as a consequence of this, we get The Girl Who Died.

The Girl Who Died is the lightest story in Series 9, focussing on a team of terrible Vikings as they come up against a deadly and unstoppable alien force. It's played as a romp, with just about the worst thing happening within the first 35 minutes is a baby crying (that said, the baby crying scene is one of Capaldi's best scenes as the Doctor - he gives the poetic lines that he's translating from the baby so much weight and nuance that you can't help but will him to stay and help the Vikings, just through hearing him speak). And so we get to have fun with the Doctor, relax in the knowledge that we're just going to have a happy story for once.

And then the young Viking girl, Ashildr, dies. Ashildr's death is something that hits the Doctor particularly hard because it's a death that he was entirely responsible for, and it goes against his very belief that the Doctor should save people. So he resolves to save her, giving rise to one of the most horrific scenes in Doctor Who history. The Doctor uses some alien technology to make her body heal, bringing her back to life, but knowing full well that it will keep restoring her, effectively making her immortal. This will end up being a major part of the rest of the series, and will be a constant reminder that sometimes the Doctor makes terrible decisions. But you wouldn't guess it from first viewing, which plays it in such a happy way that it becomes horrific. We see the Doctor smile as he casually hints at the ramifications of what he's done, and how Ashildr may not want to thank him. Director Ed Bazalgette also decides to shoot the scene as if it's some sort of triumphant and miraculous development, with a focus on the Vikings herding around Ashildr in happiness and joy for what's happening, whilst Murray Gold's music quietly plays a beautiful tune in the background. But, of course, this is all done on purpose by everyone involved in the production team, all of whom know that this will end up having terrible ramifications and yet they play it in such a happy way - choosing to ignore what's going to happen.

And, indeed, we'll see what happens to Ashildr tomorrow, in the appropriately titled The Woman Who Lived.