Day 825: Hell Bent

If Heaven Sent is all about a Doctor Who story that's completely unique but still acts like a Doctor Who story, then Hell Bent is about a Doctor Who story that retreads a lot of ground and is very much not a Doctor Who story. I don't mean that in a bad way, because it's clearly what the episode is aiming for. The Doctor behaves ridiculously un-Doctorish throughout the episode, shooting people, and ignoring all advice because he's being so driven to save Clara's life, even when it's occasionally clear that she doesn't particularly want to be saved. It's an effective counterpart to the ending of Capaldi's first series, which based itself around Clara trying to save Danny Pink's life, and how the Doctor was forced to act as the Clara's moral compass in these dark times, whereas here Clara acts as the Doctor's compass (that observation comes courtesy of my mother, whose attitude to Doctor Who criticism involves her saying "Can I just say" at some volume, before continuing to re-affirm her misguided belief that the best Doctor Who story of all time is The Lazarus Experiment).

But, of course, where the story really picks up is towards the end, where the Doctor attempts to wipe Clara's memory so that the two of them will no longer be able to be such a dangerous force throughout the Universe - after all, we're now seeing the lengths that the Doctor will go to to save Clara, even when she's dead. And this memory wipe is an unquestionably awful thing, and I would be more than willing to declare this episode awful because of it. But Moffat does something truly good. He makes Clara say no, and he makes the Doctor listen to her. By allowing the companion to have voice, to be able to take their own death on their own terms and not just allow for the Doctor to do everything, it means that the story openly advocates for a position of equality within the TARDIS.

And, of course, that's the way that it's always been aboard the TARDIS with Clara; ever since her first story she's been seen as more or less an equal to the Doctor, which is what makes her a fundamentally interesting character. And seeing her reaffirm that equality by mutually deciding with the Doctor that one of them must lose their memory and the process should be done through some Russian Roulette style gambit where both are on the same footing. It's effectively covering the same ground as Journey's End, but in such a different and more powerful way that creates overall better drama for the characters and doesn't leave a nasty taste in the mouth.

And thus ends the era where Capaldi spends his time with Clara. Not with an explosive bang, but with something all the more powerful - a conversation. There's still one more thing left to cover though, so for one last time, We've Got Work To Do!

Day 823: Face the Raven

This was a hell of a lot tougher to watch than I was expecting it to be. On first viewing, it's a fairly nice and unassuming episode, up until Clara's death, of course. It's an episode with an interesting premise, a fairly non-threatening plot (sure, one character's life is constantly in danger, but the danger is a known quantity that can be prevented - contrast this with Sleep No More where the danger is ever -present and could take out any of the characters at any time). But then Clara makes a mistake which costs her her life, leading us into a very emotionally charged finale as the Doctor seeks to get his vengeance. So it's a fairly nice and interesting episode to watch for the first tine, and certainly one of my series highlights.

On repeated viewing, however, it becomes so much more difficult to look at. Every time Clara smiles, or does some dangerous activity just for that rush of adrenaline or because she knows that it's what the Doctor would do, your heart sinks ever-further into that state of dread as you know that we are rapidly approaching her end. The scene that I found particularly hard to watch was that when she took the burden of the death sentence away from Rigsy, cementing her death in the story out of some desire to do what the Doctor does, but a lack of understanding as to how the Doctor operates. It's an uncomfortable scene, and hangs over the rest of the story like an unwelcome shadow.

And when Clara's death does come around, it has the potential to be awful. A cheap death would undermine the character, and make the story seriously not worth watching. But, instead, what Sarah Dollard does is write a death that feels perfectly real for Clara. It's a death that is based entirely on a decision that she made, and one that she's made whilst trying to emulate the Doctor (as she's done previously in stories like Flatline or Under the Lake/Before the Flood). Doing this also means that her death doesn't feel cheap, it's perfectly integral to the story and the way in which Clara's character has been developing, meaning that it works better than, say, a scene right at the end where Clara is shot, out of nowhere, by some leader out of spite for the Doctor.

And more than allowing for the death to feel real for Clara in terms of where it fits in the story and her character arc, it also allows for her to accept the death with dignity. We get her saying goodbye to the Doctor and telling him not to get angry (which is, of course, an instruction that he'll follow to the letter) and then she goes off and faces the titular raven. There's no crying from Clara about her dying in her prime, she doesn't desperately run away from her death, she just accepts it with a quiet dignity. It makes the death feel more powerful and real, and adds to the weight of the story. It means that it's a difficult episode to watch, but is ultimately very satisfying because of it.

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.