Plot - In a bid to rescue Rose, the Doctor sends her back to her own timeline; choosing to deal with the invading Dalek fleet by sacrificing both his and the Earth's existence. Any remaining hope now rests behind the meaning of the 'Bad Wolf' enigma.
For the preceding twelve episodes, Russell T
Davies and the rest of his production chums have set out to create
something which can work in more than one way. First off, the 2005 revival of Doctor Who acts as a thirteen part pilot; testing whether the
show is able to hold ground among 21st century culture.
Second of all, it acts as a taster series; giving its audience an
idea of what Doctor Who could be like if only it was accepted within
contemporary society.
Therefore, the show has been given a
distinct shape to its overall structure. Even though the creative force behind
this era of the show had no intention of wrapping things up after
parting of the ways; there’s almost a feeling that the show could
have quite easily called it a day here and everything would have still all
worked as a thirteen part mini-series. Yes, we end the episode with
David Tennant grinning like a mad puppy as he talks about Barcelona, but this still where the plug could have still been pulled if all went south.
How the show achieves this shape is by
building up the scale and force of the series as it marches forth. When the
series begun with Rose, it was a speedy romp which showed an average London
girl falling out her world and into the madness of the Doctor’s
reality.
As the episodes continued to air, Rose slowly
fell further and further away from the rules of the reality which she
initially spent 19-years living in. By episode five, she had
returned to her world; only to discover that the Doctor’s realm of
aliens and monsters had taken over what she thought she knew. No
longer could she go back to her normal day to day life. Aliens had
taken control of downing street, spaceships crashed into Big Ben and
shop window dummies could bring cities to a standstill.
By episode six, Rose was a fulltime
companion. She had official become a part of the Doctor’s universe;
granting her the invitation to meet yet another icon from this
strange and vast universe. After her encounter with the Dalek, Rose was
accustomed to the rules and functions of Doctor Who. So much so,
in fact ,that she even started to attempt to break such rules; resulting in her faux pas in Father’s Day.
Yet now, after the gradual build up
from soap opera reality to the world of the science fiction, the
series goes all out for its final episode. The series has gradually
been building up to what it is meant to be for some time now. After
twelve long weeks of genre clashing, rule bending and world
falling; viewers suddenly find themselves watching what can be
described as the 21st century's most Doctor Who episode to date. There’s no more genre clashing here; it’s the
Daleks invading Doctor Who.
One of the most interesting aspects to
this episode, is its tendency to show things which everyone had
thought they’d seen the Daleks do, but had in actual fact hadn't. Take the Dalek inside the TARDIS for example.
Never before had the show depicted an onscreen Dalek inside the
console room. Furthermore, the series had never once managed to show
an entire fleet of Dalek ships on the scale which this episode
manages to achieve. Such a fact is more likely down to the fact that
the previous show never had the liberty to throw CGI at the screen
whenever it needed some visual assistance, but nonetheless, here is
the program doing something which we were convinced we’d seen the
show do on screen, but had actually only been a witness to in our own minds.
A potential answer to this might be
down to Russell T Davies’ love of comic books. One thing which is
clear about the Davies era of the show is it’s obsessive attitude
toward the visual tone of each series. Every episode looks like its
own mini-movie; possessing their own visual styles and cinematic
qualities. Davies even use to hold tone meetings for each episode;
where he’d bring all the separate departments together and push
them into working toward meeting a set goal with each of the episodes
which were set to be filmed.
Davies’ adoration of comic books,
topped with his fondness to keep one eye on the visual qualities
whilst writing his scripts, could very well explain why this episode
possessed the aesthetic qualities which it has. The episode looks
similar to one of the classic Doctor Who and the Dalek comics; in
which huge armies of Dalek fleets were splashed across the various
pages. Such comics also made heavy use of the Dalek emperor; who
makes an onscreen return here for the first time in four decades.
And the episode does look like these
comics. It’s audaciously colourful (well...bronze), atmospheric, drools over the emperor Dalek
at every opportunity and embraces its liberty to finally put as many
Daleks as it likes on our screens. The Doctor Who comics (and novels for that matter) were once the
only way in which anyone could depict vast swarms of Daleks on
screen. With the 21st century’s uprising of computer
aided technology, however, this is a liberation which the mother
series can now also embrace.
Much as is the case with the current
Moffat era (which we’ll get on to in due course) the Davies period
of the show possesses a number of tropes which pop up throughout the
duration of his time as head writer. Series one played out these
tropes in a much more watered down manner than the following three
series ended up doing, yet nonetheless, they are still very much in play here.
Firstly, there’s the idea of the
Doctor being responsible for his own destruction. In this situation,
the Doctor will be responsible for a history-altering event which
will create a vacuum within the timelines. Sooner or later, some evil
enemy will fill up that vacuum and inevitably be responsible for that
said Doctor's regeneration. Tennent’s Doctor ends up sowing the seeds of his own
regeneration in the very next episode, but we’ll cross that bridge
when we come to it.
The Ninth Doctor is also responsible
for creating a vacuum which will lead to his regeneration; creating this said vacuum all the way back in The Long Game. As I mentioned back when talking about that
episode, the Doctor’s actions during that story resulted in the
news networks of planet earth completely shutting down. Due to the
malnourishment of information, mankind stopped overnight. This gave
the Daleks a chance to step in and build up their army by luring in and converting a planet of information starved and helpless humans.
The Doctor was the catalyst which
helped to spark the events of this story into existence; therefore
being responsible for the series of events which lead up the Bad Wolf
resolution, therefore inadvertently forcing him to regenerate into
his tenth body.
The second trope which pops its head
above the water during The Parting of the Ways is the idea that the
Doctor needs a companion in order to stabilise the narrative of the
show. Without such a character to stand by his side, the Doctor will
either make huge errors or slowly loose grip of his morals.
Early on in the episode, the Doctor
chooses to send Rose back to her own timeline; saving her from the
monstrosities of the Dalek invasion of 200,100. As Rose tries to deal
with the situation of accepting her permanent return to present day Britain, the narrative occasionally jumps back
to the heart of the narrative which takes place on Satellite five. Without Rose, it’s apparent that the plans and
actions of the Doctor are falling to pieces. People are mercilessly gunned down, Lynda is murdered, Jack falls
victim to a Dalek ray gun and the Doctor decides to drop all of his
morals and fry the entire earth population in order to bring down the
Dalek fleet.
From the collapse of events, one thing
is clear; the Doctor needs someone by his side. Without the likes of
Rose Tyler; the Doctor is unable to be the hero figure that he's so commonly associated with. He becomes a
victim of the surrounding story. People die, moral becomes lost
within the chaos, and ultimately, the Doctor loses.
And lose he bloody well does. All
becomes lost. Jack and Lynda are dead, the Doctor’s defenders have
all been gunned down in cold blood, the Doctor is willing to fry the
minds of billions of helpless humans to stop the Daleks surrounding him. And
he gives up. He sticks his hands in the air and admits that he can’t
do it. The Daleks have won. The Doctor can’t save the day this time.
Meanwhile, back in 2006, the narrative
is making a third trope apparent. Not only is the Doctor useless
without his companion, but his companion is unable to revert back to
her previous life. Rose has spent nearly thirteen episodes now,
spiralling down a rabbit hole of madness. She’s learned methods in
order to cope with the chaos of the Doctor’s universe. She’s
fallen out of time for twelve months, broken the [forever changing]
rules of the narrative and learned to participate in obstacles which
no man or women could ever dream of facing. She’s no longer a
member of the soap-opera genre; she’s a Doctor Who character in many ways.
This is how the episode works.
Everything is in a state of unbalance. The ex-soap opera character
is lost in a world of normality, whilst the day-saving hero is unable
to function without someone to prod him in the right direction.
Separated across time, the story of Doctor Who caves in on itself.
But before the episode sees itself out,
all is restored in the narrative. In fact, things are restored in
quite a literal sense, because Rose not only manages to return to the
future, but she also looks into the time vortex; essentially becoming
a temporary demi-god who can disintegrate Daleks, resurrect Jack, willingly spread the words Bad Wolf through time and space
(well that’s that mystery solved then) and put everything back to [almost] the way it all was.
This is an issue which will only get
worse as each series finally comes to pass during the Davies era. Because you see, the thing
is, Davies has some staggeringly strong points, but at the same time
he has his weaknesses (but then who doesn’t?).
Firstly, Davies is one of the most
television-savvy producers in the UK. Not only does he know the
workings of many television shows which have been released during the past 20
years, but he’s also a master at efficiently bringing together
different departments in order to execute the shows he works for. This is why Davies was able to act as the
headwriter/executive producer of Doctor Who, micromanage a full
series of Torchwood and commission and entire series of The Sarah
Jane Adventures all at pretty much the same time; whilst current head writer
Steven Moffat struggles to get more than eight episodes of Doctor Who
on our goggle-boxes each year.
Secondly, Davies is incredible when it
comes to characters. He’s able to take ordinary people and make
them extraordinary. This is a technique which shines in Doctor Who;
as Davies takes convention soap-opera characters and builds them up
into science fiction heroes. It works, it’s wonderful and it adds an
element to Doctor Who which the classic series seemed to lack considerably.
Davies creates characters who are so
wonderful to watch that it helps to make the show engaging and emotionally stimulating. You genuinely care about the outcome
of these people. If a character is in mortal danger, then it can at
times be genuinely terrifying to experience.
His weakness, on the other hand, is his
tendency to try and go as epic as possible with his stories
(particularly series finals), only to go ahead and write himself into a corner.
Like many of his later series finals, The Parting of the Ways builds
and builds and builds until a point where the viewer simply
doesn't know how on earth the Doctor is going to get out of the
situation he’s trapped within.
The crux of the issue here is, that Davies doesn't seem to know either. Which is why he often ends up going for the dreaded reset button; having Rose sweep in and save the day with her newly obtained magical TARDIS powers.
The crux of the issue here is, that Davies doesn't seem to know either. Which is why he often ends up going for the dreaded reset button; having Rose sweep in and save the day with her newly obtained magical TARDIS powers.
Except it does sort of work here. Ok,
it’s still a slight cop out when it comes to saving the Doctor from
certain death, but it does still result in the Doctor's death. As he willingly absorbs the time vortex from Rose's mind; he is forced to save his existence via regeneration. The only problems which can stem from such a moment however, is if the rules for that set piece magically spring out of thin air . Usually, if you want an
important plot point to come along and change the direction of the
story, it is usually effective to feed it into the narrative prior to that particular significant
moment.
This is why the whole super-Rose things sort of works here. Because it turns out that she’s the Bad Wolf.
The phrase has been scattered through time in order to lead her back
there. It’s a nice little paradox arc in which Rose shapes her own
destiny with two words. Ok, so it’s not great, and it does flag up
another problem about Davies, in which his story arcs are just random
phrases uttered once every few episodes (he might as well have used
the words ‘Fried Chicken’ and the arc would have still worked in more or less the same way. Only less enigmatic).
But the rules regarding the idea that
the time vortex will burn Rose's brain if he doesn't take the bullet for her - so to speak - just feels a little out of the blue. We did indeed see
the heart of the TARDIS during Boom Town – when Margaret Slitheen stared into it and requested that she be given a second chance at life – yet the fact that it turned up at the ass end of episode eleven gives off
the skeptical impression that it was retrofitted in for the sake of the final
minutes of episode thirteen.
The whole ‘looking into the heart of
the TARDIS’ scene feels quite lazy. It’s there to help Davies
wrap up all the conclusions which he needs to arrive at before the
credits begin to role. He needs to explain the Bad Wolf; check. He needs to
kill off all the Daleks; check. He needs to bring captain Jack back
so that he can star in his own little spin off; check. He needs to force
Christopher Eccleston to regenerate into David Tennent; check.
Yet like I say, this type of ending does sort of work
here. But there’s a reason behind this. Firstly, at this stage of the story, it
seriously doesn't matter about the mechanics of how this part of
the episode plays out. Seriously, unless you’re dissecting The Parting of the Ways for academic purposes, or because you’re an overly enthusiastic fan, this part
of the story is all about the emotion. Viewers don’t give a shit
about the reset button. They know that they’re moments away from
saying good by to Doctor no. nine and hello to no. ten. This is a huge
moment in which a new generation are going to see how the series
executes one of the show’s most iconic and important transitions.
The Doctor is going to regenerate and that’s all the audience really cares about at this stage.
Which is just what happens. After a
heartfelt farewell from the ninth Doctor, a beam of light blasts from
his limbs and head; revealing a completely new man in his place.
After thirteen episodes; the story of the ninth Doctor is over and
ten is about to begin his [considerably longer] on screen journey.
Series one turned out to be nothing
short of a cultural success. When the show begun back in March 2005,
no one knew whether this revitalisation would really take off. This
was simply a test to see whether or not this show could still work.
It died in 1989 and managed to keep itself on life support with a
series of novels, audio plays and a poorly thought out TV movie. The idea of it becoming a part of
the mainstream conscious once again was difficult for some to comprehend.
Such nerves held by the creative team
goes a long way in explaining the overall tone of this series. It’s
clearly a well-designed and expensive show. The visuals were
top notch for their time, the cast were carefully chosen and the quality of each
story was impressively executed. Just by looking at an episode, one
was able to see that this was a well-crafted piece of work, in which
great levels of love and effort were put into the making of it. Yet
it still felt a little insecure about itself.
The show did weird and peculiar things,
but it still stepped lightly as it did. Furthermore, the choice of
Eccleston assisted in providing the show with at least some level of
gravitas. Eccleston was a well respected actor who’d starred in a
number of Hollywood roles. When things go too weird, the knowledge
that Eccleston was the figure at the centre of that weirdness
grounded these situations considerably.
Likewise, the show did not feel
comfortable in referencing the old series in any way shape or form.
To avoid any confusion, Davies and co decided it best to continue the
story of the Doctor by not looking back. It was officially announced
as a direct continuation of the classic series; but never once did
they feel it necessary to explicitly reference the stories or characters of previous eras.
In conclusion, Doctor Who in 2005 was
big, bold yet still somewhat shy. It was a bit like one of the world's most beautiful drag queens on her first night out in public. The show didn't know what it could get
away with just yet. Nor did it feel content enough to start looking back
on its own mythology. It had two purposes to its existence. It wanted
to show the world what Doctor Who could be like in the 21st
century and it aspired to get wanting it again.
Of course we all now know that the show
succeeded in doing this on a phenomenal level. The program is now the center of British
culture and has even managed to land on American soil. The show
is colossal and it’s very much aware of its own success. As the
years go on, Doctor Who will grow to become staggeringly more confident in what it can do; it
will happily throw all kinds of references to its own history; and it
will celebrate its own tendency to be weird and different from anything else that exists in popular culture.
From series two onward, Doctor Who will
become a colourful and confident crown jewel for the BBC. Yet here,
we have something slightly different. The potential is all there, the
show just needs a bit more time before it can audaciously come forth
and execute such audacity.
Overall, series one is bloody charming
in its ambitions. It’s a brave run of episodes; desperate to be loved by the
people whom its made for. The fact that it was loved makes this
series all the more delightful to look back upon.
