The Battle of Ranskoor Av Kolos/End of Series

The Battle of Ranskoor Av Kolos

As with the rest of this series, The Battle of Ranskoor Av Kolos was a fairly low-key affair.  Under Russell T Davies or Steven Moffat, an episode with this title would doubtless have been an epic with vast CGI battlefleets and cameo appearances of half a dozen old monsters.  What we got instead felt like it belonged to the days before CGI, with a number of similarities to The Pirate Planet (telepaths, shrunken planets and a ranting megalomaniac…  The ‘only ever two’ Ux felt like a steal from Star Wars‘ Sith too).  The Earth was threatened, but we didn’t really see any sign of damage.  Under Davies or Moffat we’d have had at least a couple of shots of people running screaming through the streets and damage to famous monuments.  Fan expectations were disappointed, judging from the criticism from the Fan Twitterati (as JNT would doubtless be calling them, were he still alive).  There hasn’t been a season finale this low-key since… Dragonfire?  The Horns of NimonThe Wheel in Space?  But the original series didn’t generally do epic season finales (with a few exceptions).  But that’s the thing, really: The Battle of Ranskoor Av Kolos isn’t failing to be an epic, it’s not really trying to be one in the first place.  (Some reviewers have suggested that the new year’s special is the real season finale, which may be the case.)

Trying to work out what it is trying to do is harder, though.  There’s some mystery, but the Doctor is soon back to solving things through having prior knowledge rather than deduction, in this case of both the Ux (privileging the her over the viewers) and Tim Shaw (rewarding viewers who have stuck with the whole season).  The Doctor’s moral flexibility, particularly regarding firearms, is briefly brought to the fore, but soon ignored.  The real focus is probably Graham’s desire to kill the villain, but, perhaps thankfully, this isn’t really dwelt on long enough.  Thankfully because you would either have to make Graham more vengeful than a family series would be comfortable with or show him so conflicted as to make it obvious that he wouldn’t go through with it.  That said, I was genuinely worried that he would either kill Tim Shaw or get killed himself, so on that level the innovations of the series so far have worked.   This does still feel like a programme willing to take risks.

Overall, this was diverting, but nothing more.  It lacked a proper emotional core, despite Graham’s subplot and was somehow lacking in ‘edge’ and menace.  The continuity-lite finale was refreshing, inasmuch as previous seasons have binged on old monsters and artificial stake-raising exercises, but this needed more weight than Tim Shaw could give it and while Daleks or Cybermen would have been artificial, part of me thinks they might have done something to raise this to a more satisfying conclusion.

 

Series 11/Season 37/The 2018 Episodes

This year’s episodes have given us a new, vulnerable, less eccentric and above all female Doctor, three companions (two non-white), low-key stories and a focus on history.  All these things are to my liking.  As I’ve said before, Davies and Moffat grew up watching Doctor Who in the seventies, but Chibnall is of an age to have been impressed by the moral earnestness, experimentation and crowded TARDIS of seasons eighteen and nineteen and this is reflected in the stories, although this makes the lack of overt continuity more surprising.

This has been a year of bold experiments and often successful ones, but it is not clear yet how the audience has reacted.  My uncle was complaining the other day about stories that are preachy “history lessons” rather than exciting science fiction stories and while I think this does a grave injustice to Rosa and Demons of the Punjab, I wonder if he is onto something.  At the very least, I wonder how many other people agree with him.

The programme has taken some big risks this year, including several that paid off: a more diverse cast, obviously, but also historicals set outside of Europe (not really seen since the Hartnell era) as well as set in living memory and a low-key and continuity-lite style that often felt like a refreshing break from the twisted timelines and crowded stories of Moffat’s time.

However, far too many stories have felt like filler episodes, the type of budget-saving story that previous producers would schedule to balance some epics.  I like small-scale, experimental stories, but even I think this went too far.  There is a need in 2020 for larger, crazier stories.  Only Arachnids in the UKThe Witchfinders and maybe Kerblam! really felt like the Doctor Who of recent years and while this was in many ways positive, I think it may have left too many people wondering whether they were actually watching Doctor Who.

It Takes You Away

It Takes You Away was a strange story in many ways.  The first half or so was an excellent example of Doctor Who as horror, something this series has largely shied away from.  It’s coolly excellent as if trying to prove that it has avoided horror deliberately rather than through not being able to do it by calmly acing the genre.

And then, suddenly, the story changes and contracts, becoming a very personal story of grief and loss.  It’s not bad at all, it’s not even jarring exactly, because each plot twist flows naturally from what came before.  It’s just surprising that so many episodes this year have seen this type of contraction back from a typical big Doctor Who story to something quieter, more small scale and more emotional and contemplative.  Doctor Who stories usually grow, both across the length of the story and from year to year, but this series has produced a series of miniatures.  As I’ve mentioned before, it feels more like Star Trek, particularly Trek’s less successful episodes and series, the contraction from the epic down to the personal, whereas Doctor Who’s skill, particularly in the twenty-first century, has usually been making the epic feel personal.

This has happened so many times (in almost every episode this year, to be honest) that it is clearly a deliberate narrative strategy on Chris Chibnall’s part and I wouldn’t call it unsuccessful, although it does feel surprising for long-term viewers (as with many aspects of this season, Chibnall seems to be resetting our expectations of the programme almost back to November 1963).  What is unclear to me is why he wants to do this, and that may not be obvious for some time, perhaps not until another Chibnall-overseen series has aired.

I don’t want to sound negative, as I really enjoyed this episode.  It was second only to Rosa this year in the enjoyment stakes, which is saying something.  It probably needs a second viewing to be fully appreciated, and it’s probably not the only episode this year where that applies.  But it leaves me wondering where Chris Chibnall is taking us, what does he have planned for the season finale and new year’s special?  I can’t wait to find out…

The Witchfinders

Well, it’s not exactly The Crucible, is it?  True, perhaps Doctor Who can’t imitate Arthur Miller (although Rosa might make one question this), but where Rosa and Demons of the Punjab were carefully-researched attempts at portraying real people living in the past, The Witchfinders was a badly-researched, ahistorical mess.

I admit it’s a number of years since I studied the witch-hunting craze at university, but huge blunders leapt out at me.  Witch trials, in England at any rate, were usually actual trials.  In a courtroom, with a judge, prosecution and defence, witnesses and so on.  Contrary to popular belief, there were sometimes acquittals; they weren’t just show-trials.  Ducking witches did happen, but it was usually associated with mob violence and was something the gentry were keen to stamp out (the ruling class didn’t much like the idea of encouraging mob rule).  A male magistrate overseeing such a ducking might be a forgivable bit of dramatic license, I suppose, like the Vikings with horned helmets in The Girl Who Died, but a woman doing it is just silly.  There is no way this could ever happen, and the story’s own dialogue demonstrates that.

Then there’s all the talk of “Witchfinders General.”  There never was such an official position in the British Isles.  Matthew Hopkins called himself the Witchfinder General (several decades after the events here), but that was a bit of self-important puffery on his part, not a real office.  And King James VI and I didn’t actually write (“As King James has written in his new Bible”?!) or even translate the King James Bible.  And perhaps this is personal griping, but after feeling that Jews are the only minority group not on show this series, it was unpleasant, to put it mildly, to have the Doctor repeating the old Christian antisemitic canard that “Love your neighbour” comes from the New Testament (it’s actually Leviticus 19.18).

If you want to nitpick, King James’ lack of entourage, while budget-saving, seems improbable to put it mildly.  Becka Savage might have had all the horses in the village shot, but where are the King’s horses?  Surely he’s not walking around the kingdom?  And speaking of shot horses, there’s a lot of talk of having people shot here, at a time when the favoured methods of execution would have been hanging, or beheading for the upper classes (like King James’ unfortunate son).

[Pause while I take some deep breaths and try to calm down…]

There’s a lot of argument in fandom about whether Doctor Who needs to be factually accurate, whether those facts are historical or scientific.  I’m somewhat agnostic on the subject, feeling that, up to a point, different eras and even different stories can choose their own level of reality.  What is more problematic is setting up the start of the series (Rosa and Demons again) to look like this is a series about encountering the Real History behind the sanitised facts and then serving up a wildly improbable bit of pulp fiction (pun on the Tarrantino reference not intended).  Even then it might have got away with it in a clearly comedic episode.   I’m fond of the three comedy Hartnell historical stories, The Romans, The Myth Makers and The Gunfighters, three stories that play fast and loose with historical truth at a time when the programme was still producing more serious fare like The Crusade and The Massacre, but those stories were clearly comedic in intent (even then, I do have my doubts occasionally).  This presents itself as a serious account of the witch-hunting craze like previous accounts of Segregation and Indian Partition.

While those stories were clearly educational, you can’t really learn much from this except that King James had an eye for the boys.  In an era where witch-hunting seems to be everywhere again, metaphorically speaking, one might have hoped for some kind of historical or psychological insight into the mechanisms of fear and paranoia that spark such investigations, in the way that Miller was really writing about McCarthy in The Crucible.  But this is just nonsense.  King James talks like people only talk in time-travel stories, going out of his way to sound as bigoted as possible as quickly as possible, without any kind of motivation beyond shocking Our Heroes, and allowing the audience to pat themselves on the back and congratulate themselves on how tolerant they are.  The sense of the past as a place where people behave differently because of different, but coherent belief systems is lacking here, as I found it lacking (to a much lesser extent) in Demons.  This is hugely problematic for a series that seems to be trying to use its portrayal of the past as a way of establishing a reputation for serious drama.  The Massacre isn’t quite the lost classic its defenders would have it be, but it does present the violence of the French religious wars as something that mattered to people at the time; they weren’t just cardboard cutout bigots, even if the details of Reformation politics were left vague.  Here (and this is only set a few decades later) witch-hunting is something that people in the past did because they were religious and superstitious and bad and aren’t we so much better today?  This is a horrible attitude for a series that seems to be trying to recapture the original series’ early sixties mandate to educate while it entertains.

King James is presented a little better than the other characters, in that we get some cod-psychology which is perhaps convincing, but there no one seems to care that Christians in the seventeenth century took the Bible very seriously and did indeed believe that Satan travelled in the world spreading evil and corruption in a very literal and real sense.  Present this seriously and you have room for conflict and drama between our postmodern values and their seventeenth century ones.  But here religion is just noises off, a pretext for misogynistic violence.  Perhaps it needs saying: if you’re presenting the pre-modern era seriously, you can’t afford to either ignore or parody religion, pretending that either no one really cared very much about it and adopted twenty-first century attitudes of irony and tolerance (Demons) or, alternatively, present it as something meaningless and absurd that even the people at the time must have struggled to take seriously (this story).

Was there anything good here?  Not really.  The plot was typical fare, with stranded aliens in the past being responsible for the supernatural as per most Doctor Who like this.  There was some attempt at investigative plotting, but it was pretty obvious where it was going to end up, in broad terms if not the details.  That’s not necessarily a problem in itself, but if Joy Wilkinson wanted to play it safe, it might have been better to tone down the witch-hunting and focus on the mud-zombie plot instead (which wasn’t entirely congruent with the witchcraft theme anyway).  And King James would have been better off left out of it.

But the worst of it all is that this comes after a run of strong stories that had seen the programme find new directions.  To relapse into the worst of the past is thus doubly disappointing.

Kerblam!

Kerblam! was a nice, cosy, traditional Doctor Who adventure.  That’s not intended as a criticism.  While parts of this season have pushed against the boundaries of twenty-first century Doctor Who, they need to be balanced with more traditional stories and this is the best of those so far.

It proceeds from a classic Doctor Who set-up: a humorous social commentary with mystery (fairly clearly signposted, but with some subversive twists) and traditional Doctor Who issues: an SOS, mysterious disappearances, abusive management and sinister robots.  It’s similar to stories like The Sun Makers, Paradise Towers and The Beast Below, but feels more polished and a bit more intelligent than those stories.

This is Doctor Who investigating for what seems like the first time in a very long time and it’s good to see that the Doctor doesn’t always have all the answers at the start.  The problem is that, as with similar investigation stories since 2005, modelled on old-fashioned four part stories, compressing one hundred minutes of story into fifty leads to rocketing from plot point to plot point without much time for anything else, or to really let the audience relish the mystery.

The world-building also didn’t entirely work.  Unemployment from automation is a long-standing fear reaching to the beginnings of the industrial revolution, but no society has yet put itself almost totally out of work, as seems to be the case here.  If only a small fraction of people are working, who has the disposable income to buy the things on sale here?  Who are the robots working for?

The last fifteen minutes or so were also rather sickly sentimental, a fact to some extent mitigated by the death of Kira, which rammed home how low the body count has been this year, focusing on trying to make a few deaths count rather than going in for Saward-era-style massacres.

Nevertheless, Kerblam! was a success overall and continued the stylistic diversity of this season.

Demons of the Punjab

I have mixed feelings about Demons of the Punjab.  That is probably due in part to my own circumstances; I’m not in a great place at the moment and wasn’t really in the mood for bleak historical character drama.  This might seem better after a more timely rewatch.  It was a lushly made and well-acted drama, and top marks for (along with Rosa) finally showing some non-European history in the revived show.  But the core of it annoyed me.

Romeo and Juliet is an old story that has been told many times across many cultural divides.  From that point of view, this was familiar territory.  That’s not necessarily a problem.  Unfortunately, also familiar was the lack of subtlety, the Whiggish certitude that sees history as tending inexorably towards our liberal democracy.  People in the past, in this perspective, divide into two categories: those who thought exactly like us, and the villains: the idiots and reactionaries who worship at the altars of nation and religion, who can’t see the way things must inevitably work out.

Yet if history – and time-travel – is to have any point, it is surely to help us to understand those who are not like us.  Here, too much was left unexplained.  British rule in India was barely alluded to; Partition was inadequately explained or contextualised.  Partition and population transfer occurred in several parts of the world in the forties and fifties, seen as the lesser evil compared to leaving large ethnic minorities that could lead to a pretext for war on a par with German expansion in the thirties.  I don’t expect all this to be included (it’s a science fiction drama, not a history documentary), but some kind of context from the Doctor would have been good.  Moreover, we don’t get any idea of what separated Hindu from Muslim in real terms.  Ritual and religion are a very postmodern British thing here, something you pick and chose and only bring out at life cycle events.  We don’t see how religion affects people’s day to day lives in traditional societies.  People in the past, we are told, did stupid, brutal things, but we don’t really understand why because the writers of drama of this kind can’t – or aren’t interested in – entering the mindset of people who professed beliefs the writers don’t share.  The historical weight of intermarriage across religious divides is not adequately portrayed.   The decision seems to marry across denominational lines is obvious, even frivolous here, which would not have been the case in reality.  While the racism of the Deep South in Rosa was familiar enough to us to seem unbearably threatening, the violence here, while every bit as bigoted, felt cursory.  It’s just the type of thing that happens in stories like this so we can congratulate ourselves on how far we’ve come in eighty years.  Compare with how The Aztecs (in 1964) managed to make human sacrifice seem normal and opposition to it unworkable.

While watching this I kept thinking of George Orwell.  It was  only afterwards that I remembered the exact quote I was looking for.  Writing in Wells, Hitler and the World State in 1941, he wrote, “Creatures out of the Dark Ages have come marching into the present, and if they are ghosts they are at any rate ghosts which need a strong magic to lay them.  The people who have shown the best understanding of Fascism are either those who have suffered under it or those who have a Fascist streak in themselves.”

Well, creatures out of the Dark Ages have again come marching into our present again.  To understand them is to understand the darkness in ourselves, but it’s easier to say, “We’re different; it could never happen here.”  For a programme that so far this year has tried to be about empathy and understanding , that is disappointing to say the least.