Written by Russell T. Davies
Directed by Andy Goddard
“With all the things a Time Lord has seen…everything he’s lost…he must surely have bad dreams.”
A bit of a personal twist to this year’s Christmas special review…
Last year, less than two weeks after my father’s funeral, Voyage of the Damned was like something from another world. In my mindset at the time, it was part of an attempt at therapy and recovery, via a bit of wonderful, brain-dead disaster movie homage: a giant splash of cold water. It was a valiant attempt at cheering me up, and it was certainly enjoyable, though it took repeat viewings to truly appreciate it, as I was rather shell-shocked on first viewing.
For this year’s special, Russell T. Davies seems to have read my current mood: The Next Doctor is quieter, smaller, tragic, sad…with a bit of hope at the very end. After a year of dull emptiness…exacerbated by not having my dad here, and being the first Christmas special I watched on my own, without guests…I was in a rather blue place, to say the least. Ironically enough, The Next Doctor reflected this perfectly: a man driven into himself by the shock of grief and loneliness…and only the Doctor coming along to hold him together, and bring him out into the light.
The Next Doctor is David Tennant’s and David Morrisey’s story. Tennant in particular delivers one of his most nuanced and subdued performances ever. He still bears the wounds of his own loneliness, and he brings Morrisey’s Jackson Lake out of his shell with a great deal of gentle compassion and encouragement. It’s one of the most quiet, most effective outings for our boyish Doctor, and it culminates in two lovely scenes: the storytelling by the fire (complete with beautiful, sepia tinted, Doctor flashbacks), and the conclusion at the TARDIS, where the Doctor’s admission that his companions “break his heart” nearly had me in tears.
The rest of the special is all icing…some good, some preposterous. The setting, the technology (the info-stamps are a brilliant, of-its-time creation), the balloon…I believe Dickens himself would have approved of every single aesthetic element. The pace is incredibly fast, yet pauses more than once to milk the quiet, brilliant character moments for all they are worth. Velile Tshabalala (as Rosita) and Dervla Kirwan (as Miss Hartigan) deliver superb performances. The juxtaposition of the Cybermen with the Victorian settings (especially the graveyard) works magnificently.
But there are also oddities. The Cyber-Shades are pushing the line of camp right to the wall. Sometimes, they can be very effective…but most of the time, they’re up there with the Taran Wood Beast, Aggedor and the Zarbi as Doctor Who’s most unbelievable monsters (though I bet the children adored them). Miss Hartigan’s anti-misogyny vendetta deserves more explanation than the oblique clues we are given (there’s definitely more to work with in that character than what we see on screen), and the entire Cyber-King conclusion is…well, let’s just say that it’s still better than the recent Transformers movie…but GOOD LORD! Is it outrageous…or simply preposterous? Is it Doctor Who meets Voltron…or Spaceballs? You be the judge…but I’m thinking it falls somewhere uncomfortably in between.
So…it wasn’t what I expecting at all. Smaller in scale and scope, more concerned with emotion and mood than action, skirting the line between sublime and ridiculous…but an ultimately surprising & satisfying Christmas pudding. The Doctor even gets the standing ovation he so richly deserves.
Well give it an 8 and see how it ages…
