The Oncoming Hope

I know that the latest episode of Doctor Who seems a bit slight on the surface, but like Gridlock, which had a number of thematic similarities, there are joys to found in the depths. It's been a long time since I could describe this show of having any subtlety whatsoever, but even while maintaining the usual loud tempo in the A-plot, the episode still offered little reveals about the Doctor, and more importantly, about Clara.

Despite the fact that this episode centered on the loss of a parent, there wasn't a big emotional crying scene. I've realized more and more that when the characters' histrionics overwhelm the scene, there's no room left for the audience to connect emotionally.

In just ten quiet seconds, we feel the weight of the moment when Clara's forced to give up her mother's ring. The Doctor asking her to make that sacrifice clearly plants a seed of doubt in her mind about him, and reminds us that no matter how much he walks the walk, he's not actually human.

Nor do we need a big dramatic scene to understand the significance of the fact that when asked for a physical totem of cherished memory, he can only offer his sonic screwdriver. That's even though he once brought his (assumed long dead?) granddaughter to this very place.

(And because you should see it if you haven't, the scene where the Doctor abandons Susan on Earth for Not!AdamScott is one of the loveliest moments of the classic series. Middleman did a riff on this scene, for those of you who enjoy such things).

I've heard it said on Twitter that the episode relies on the usual Doctor Who deus ex machina that is The Power of Love. For once, I think there's something far deeper going on. Clara doesn't feed the monster with love, but with the infinity of loss. It's neatly scientific, wrapped up in a human bow. People who are grieving don't tend to dwell on moments had, they think of moments missed, moments lost. Every time I miss my grandmother, for instance, I don't think about my youth spent with her, I think about how she isn't here, how she isn't sitting next to me, enjoying Doctor Who with me (and enjoy it she did).

There's an infinity of those moments, and you'd go crazy if you try to understand how enormous those missed moments are. No one can comprehend infinity. You just shut down when you go too far down the path.

Which is my long-winded way of saying, well done Who, for having an vaguely comprehensible ending for once.

OTHER STUFF:

Clara Clara Clara. SO MUCH LOVE. She's the first companion in the New Era who I'd actually want to meet, and can imagine myself befriending.

By now, you've seen (and probably loved, I know I did) The Power of Three. Apart from Darth Vader-Shakri. But I digress!

Disclaimer: I love the Brigadier, but I believe that any sort of love is predicated on recognizing him for who he was, not who he wasn't.

I truly believe that it's a wonderful gesture from Steven Moffat to have a Lethbridge-Stewart in an episode featuring the Doctor stuck on Earth. This is the kind of subtle fanservice that both throws a bone to old fans like me and doesn't interrupt the flow of nu-Who.

So I almost hate to be churlish. Almost. While I liked Kate Stewart as her own character, she never quite rang true as a spawn of that Lethbridge-Stewart (though I freely admit to tearing up at the reveal).

Let's start with a little history. Who is the Brigadier? Just a guest character until the Doctor was stranded on Earth for three seasons, his character existed to problematize the idea of the old-school British hero. You know the type - the manly man saving damsels in distress and pulling out his revolver at every sign of trouble.

They make him full-time as a sort of companion-foil to the Doctor. When he ran UNIT, he and his men were violent thorns in the Doctor's efforts to keep peace in the Universe. (I use the word "men" pointedly. There were no women in his inner circle.). He stands at odds with the Doctors in almost every way, and their relationship remains mostly testy until he retires.

The show made a lot of hay from the Doctor's (and his better companions') tendency to poke fun at the Brig's jingoism, anti-intellectualism, and general sexism. Kate says he valued science. Really, he's a man who only values science insofar as it helps him to kill things more efficiently.

But when it comes to Kate, it's the sexism that's most relevant. Revisionist fans may choose to ignore it, but the Brigadier was pretty much an old-school misogynist. He said something like the following (though this is by far the most egregious) to pretty much every one of the Doctor's female companions, all of whom had to lock him up, throw him out of cars, or generally just run away in order to do their job of being awesome:

BRIGADIER: "Well, you're a young woman. This is a job for my men."
ISOBEL: "Well, of all the bigoted, anti-feminist, cretinous remarks..."
BRIGADIER: "This is no job for a girl like you. Now that's final."

Cue Isobel and Zoe running off and saving the day.

Or my personal favorite, to his wife who's gone off for a joyride with Ace (btw, if there's a better euphemism for "I'm in love with a girl", I don't know what it is):

"But what about supper!"

This clip is a great example of what I mean by his "old-school" sexism. He remains loveable because we know his attitudes are a product of the culture he grew up in. He can't help himself really, and he does better himself in certain respects over time (though never when it comes to women).

Brigadier: Oh, dear. Women. Not really my field.
The Doctor: Don't worry, Brigadier. People will be shooting at you soon.

Nicholas Courtney did a great job of bringing humanity to a character that was already a relic even in the 1970s. I raise his flaws not to say I didn't love him, merely to say that he was flawed.

That said, it's impossible to believe that he even supported Kate having a career, let alone a career at UNIT. She would have had to fight tooth and nail to prove herself, and probably more than once. Someone who grew up that way would not break down at the first sign of trouble. She could not have reached her current title without a whole lot of strong will and self-belief.

But she actually tears up when the cubes become a tiny bit threatening. Maybe we can explain this away by a combination of fear of the invasion and relief that the Doctor's there to help. But I don't know.

I hope she comes back though, nonetheless.

A Town Called Mercy may be the finest episode of nu-Who to date.

As in School Reunion, Toby Whithouse takes full advantage of the meta-concept that he Doctor may be the protagonist of this show called Doctor Who, but within the narrative universe, he's really just a minor character. All that business about being The Oncoming Storm really doesn't affect the day-to-day lives of, well, anyone in the universe.

It's an ambitious concept for the show to deal with, which may be why the revived show has previously limited the question to the Doctor's impact on his human (and very mortal) companions.

A Town Called Mercy grapples with a particularly messy issue - is the Doctor really a hero, or is he the intergalactic equivalent of the IMF, an arbiter of "correct behavior" with a worldview and a mission statement that refuses to adapt to cultural differences?

Thankfully, Whithouse doesn't feel the need to answer that question fully - he takes the decisions out of the Doctor's hands. Each of the key players actually make their own choices. Isaac chooses to protect Jex, the Gunslinger has moral heft to guide his own mission, and Jex decides to face his greatest fear - his guilt.

The central moral quandary leads us to one of the most wonderful conversations ever between a Doctor and his companion. Amy finally proves that maybe, just maybe, she actually knows him a little better than everyone else.

I love how their dialogue mirrors a famous scene from Genesis of the Daleks (below). My, how the tables have turned, eh Doctor? (watch clip from :48 to go straight to the scene in question).

The Marvellous Mrs. Pond

Speaking of Amy, the writers have finally figured her out. I wrote last year that she wasn't a character with any clear reason for being, lacking real desires or motivations. But now she feels like a more defined character.

There's two explanations for this:

1. The writers intended all along that she wouldn't become her own character until she made a life without a Doctor, to make a facile point.
2. The writers realized that her reactions to having and losing her baby were inadequate and unrealistic, so they've written in hints of severe post-partum trauma. This trauma allows her to be more empathetic, and yes, more ferocious.

Either way, she now feels like a living, breathing human being, instead of a sassy Scottish china doll. She's still clumsy and childish but now we know that these traits are external manifestations of deep-set emotional pain.

So that was long-winded, eh? I'm genuinely excited to see what comes next. Steven Moffat's era finally seems to be living up to its initial promise.

Welcome back! Apologies for lateness, but I just got back from India after a wedding and a funeral, and attached emotions thereof. But onward and geronimo! As always, don't read if you haven't seen it.

Once you get past the supremely irritating Omg!RelationshipTroubles!, Asylum of the Daleks proves to be the strongest outing of the series since the midseason finale last season (the plastic clones, if you recall).

The writers have finally embraced (or at least recognized) the fact that through repetition, they've neutralized any sense of terror that the Daleks once elicited. Really, once an apron-clad Dalek offers you tea, there's no going back. Now they're the "most terrifying creatures in the universe, except when they're working as housemaids, emoting on Broadway (truly, a Dalek attempting an American accent must be the most terrifying thing a viewer can see), and blathering on about Eggs--Eggs--Eggs."

For the Daleks to continue to be villains that are even interesting, let alone scary, the writers really need to play around with the concept. Whether they're successful or not's a different matter, but at least they're trying.

The very concept of an asylum for the Daleks never really lived up to its potential (or any real definition, for that matter). It provided a suitably creepy framework for the ultimate Human Dalek (Oswyn-lek), but the setting wasn't developed properly (I assume this is a matter of time. This story could easily have been a two-parter). After all this, I have no idea what it actually means to be an insane Dalek. You turn them on, they start shooting. Same old Eggs-terminators.

But who could help but smile at the references to Classic Who adventures with the Daleks? The City of Exxilons is a particular favorite of mine. Basically, it's the Daleks vs. the insanely creepy Exxilons versus a massive puzzle labyrinth. Also, Sarah has a mullet:

Business in the front, party in the back. But I digress.

Asylum of the Daleks also provided us with a surprise appearance by Jenna-Louise Coleman, recently announced to be the new companion. While I emitted a heartfelt MEH at the casting of another teenage white girl character, she totally won me over in this episode. That said, she's dead. Who knows what the real companion will be like?

And speaking of dead, why didn't the Doctor try to save Oswyn-lek? Again and again, she proves that she can exert her will over the Dalekness that attempts to control her, even at the end. These aren't the angst-filled self-recriminations of the lone ranger in Dalek, Oswyn-lek is completely, genuinely human, with all the hopes, dreams, laughter and failure of any other non-Dalek being.

I love these little moments that reveal that even the Doctor, with all his worldliness (universliness?) has moments of prejudice that he simply can't put aside. It's these little nuggets that make him seem more human, and the more complicated hero that Moffat has sort of hinted at throughout his era, but has told us about rather than shown.

Tell me, what did you think about the episode? Play along in the comments!

2012, it seems, has a vendetta out for the actresses who played the most beloved Doctor Who companions of yesteryear. In the space of one year, fans have waved goodbye to Elizabeth Sladen, Caroline John, and now, heartbreakingly, Mary Tamm.

Oh, Romana. The only time the Doctor took one of his own kind on board, and she not only equalled him, but eventually defeated him in the saving-the-universe stakes. Mary Tamm brought us the first regeneration of Romana, fully regal and bitingly sarcastic, a Timelady arriving on the TARDIS by way of Downton Abbey.

Her first scene on the show remains one of the most perfect in the show's history, displaying the wit, the vibrance and excitement of finally having a companion who doesn't worship the Doctor, but actually kind of thinks he's a loser at first. At the end of the day, has anyone else called him on the fact that he's basically a dropout vagabond thief?

Mary Tamm left the show because the character changed; she became more of a typical "excellent question, doctor" companion by the time she left. But strangely enough, Lalla Ward chose to reference Tamm's performance in Romana II, and the writers returned Romana to what she was always meant to be; better than the Doctor. We owe Mary Tamm for providing a template that no companion has matched since. And it's worth noting that the Romana years (both Romanas) garnered the highest ratings in the show's history.

(skip to 5:18 for Romana's first appearance, where even K9 can't resist a lengthy ogle. Is there such a thing as the tyranny of the robot gaze?)

Until 2007, when I discovered the weird and wonderful world of online Doctor Who fandom, my answer to the question of "who's your favorite companion" was straightforward. Liz Shaw, played by the late Caroline John.

Why did I leave her behind? Simple: there's no skin in the game where Liz Shaw is concerned. She's uncontroversially, incontrovertibly, awesome. She's the only Who companion fired because audiences didn't like that she was smarter than the Doctor.

One has to wonder whether the discomfort lay not only in the idea that a human could equal the Doctor, but a human woman at that. After all, when she left, the writers gave us Jo Grant, the archetype of googley-eyed alien father-figure worship. Liz had no time for hero worship; she was too busy getting shit done.

The writers certainly knew this. Think of Inferno, which depicted a parallel Earth where the Brigadier and UNIT's military arrogance had gone almost completely unchecked, save for the restraining influence of Liz's alter-ego. The Doctor knows she's the only one who can be reasoned with in any Earthbound scenario; again and again, she proves him right.

Her time on the show was all too short, but there's no other companion who had such a strangely perfect run of episodes. Spearhead from Space offered terror rarely seen until the Moffat episodes of Nu-Who, while Ambassadors of Death perfectly captured both the uncertainty and excitement that accompanied our real-life forays into outer space. Then there was The Silurians, certainly one of the finest explorations of humanity in the show's history.

These stories were dark, reflective of science fiction themes the show hadn't really addressed before, and hasn't since. This couldn't have happened without giving the Doctor a human equal, someone to show that the dangers are real, not just fictions in the mind of a judgmental alien with a god complex.

Liz Shaw was that equal. Caroline John may have passed, but her character lives on as one of the greats.

So the Doctor Who world was abuzz yesterday with the news (rumor?) that David Yates will be directing a big screen feature film of our beloved series. If true, it's not an enormous surprise. The show's about to hit it's 50th anniversary, and the showrunners have long been hinting that something special will happen.

Before we descend into paroxysms of "why, Yates, why?!," let's look at what this might actually mean.

Based on past "film" versions of Doctor Who, there are two ways the new film can go: remaking an existing story and transforming it for the big screen (as with the Peter Cushing films), or as David Yates said, giving it a "radical transformation" (as with the 1996 film).

Well, the show's been back for almost a decade now, and if there's one thing we've learned, both the fans and the showrunners are adapting very well to radical transformations. In fact, constant mutation seems built into the core of the reboot, particularly under Moffat's reign.

So it's fair to expect that if Yates directs a new film, it won't be a familiar plotline, but a shock to the system, like the 1996 film. For those who are unfamiliar, that attempt to revive the show probably put it on the bench for another decade, despite an excellent performance by Paul McGann.

But it suffered from two key problems in my opinion:

• Overly American in the worst ways possible (and I say this as an American). There was tons of flash and action set pieces, but it wasn't terribly cohesive. (and Eric Roberts as the Master? Not the wisest decision).
• A strange fidelity to the mythology of the original series, despite the apparent intent to create a new show for a new audience.

However, it set the tone for series to come. It incepted the idea of the Doctor as an attractive, romantic hero, and created a template for new series. It grounded the companion relationship in a way that continued directly from the McCoy era closeness with Ace.

I question whether the show would be what it is today without that movie opening those doors. So who's to say that a new "radical transformation" won't lead to more wonderful inventions down the line?

Also, there's a key difference between now and past attempts: Doctor Who is no longer the last refuge of the anoraks and the ming-mongs. It's a multi-million dollar property with an international audience that will receive a multi-million dollar budget.

Basically, I'm excited about this news. Doctor Who needs constant invigoration to stay alive, and this could be a great move for the series.

And once the project becomes real, we can have a whole bunch of fun debating dream casting and storylines :)

I entered Doctor Who fandom straight from the placenta, it feels like. My parents were devoted fans who recorded every episode as they aired, usually late on Saturday night on the local PBS station (it really used to be a hard life as an American Doctor Who fan).

As devotees of the reboot, it's easy to dismiss the classic series as "of-its-time" at best or "naff" at worst. But even when I remove my rose-tinted glasses, there are certain classic episodes that rival New-Who in quality and entertainment value.

I used to try and get people into Who by showing them "State of Decay." Perhaps unsurprisingly, no one was convinced (I still love it though!)

I'm not suggesting you should sit through the entire series, but since we're in the off-season, here are 5 episodes I think you should check out if you're interested in sampling Classic-Who. I'd love to hear other people's suggestions in the comments!

(and if you're interested, you can find my Best New-Who Episodes for Newbies here: http://theoncominghope.blogspot.com/2010/11/best-doctor-who-episodes-for-newbies.html)

Spearhead From Space

For fans of: Rose

The Story:

The Doctor enters his third regeneration in exile, deprived of his TARDIS. But since trouble seems to follow him anywhere, this doesn't deprive him of adventures. He meets an eccentric plastics manufacturer, who's bent on installing his peculiar creations everywhere in the world.

Why You Should Watch It:

As in Rose, this episode introduces a new Doctor and new companions, and they face the Autons. While Rose did an better job of introducing Who to a new generation (and a better job of introducing the characters), the Autons themselves cannot hold a candle to the original; they are TERRIFYING. The way their initial invasion scene is shot and directed rivals the best of horror films, helped along by the subtle soundtracking.

Mind Robber

For fans of: Blink, Series 6

The Story:

The TARDIS crew begin to have strange hallucinations of home and of other adventures, and the visions become more and more vivid until the TARDIS itself explodes.

Why You Should Watch It:

This episode basically invented fan fiction years before it became a big thing. This episode also takes the idea that Doctor Who is basically an eccentric space fairytale to its logical conclusion, throwing the Doctor and his companions into fairy tales both past and future. Many science fiction shows deal with the idea of aliens requiring humans for their creative prowess; this episode offers one explanation why an alien relies on creativity to sustain its world.

The AV Club has written a great (spoilery) piece about the many layers of meta-narrative in this episode, which is definitely worth a read: http://www.avclub.com/articles/the-mind-robber,59816/

Caves of Androzani

For fans of: Doomsday, The Rebel Flesh, Midnight (as suggested by hermitknut)

The Story:

The Doctor and Peri land in the middle of a smuggler's war, and quickly become pawns in their game. Adding confusion to terror, you can't tell who's an android and who's not. Finally, a Phantom of the Underworld becomes unhealthily obsessed with Peri. The twin threat leads to one of the most edge-of-your-seat episodes of the classic series.

Why You Should Watch It:

Davison's performance in this episode essentially fuels the entirety of David Tennant's conception of the character. The Doctor will do literally anything to save his companion, he'll battle through hellfire and plague, and it's guilt that drives him to do it. This episode is a terrifically suspenseful thriller, and best of all, it originally starred David Bowie as the villain (imagine the possibilities!)

Curse of Fenric

For fans of: The God Complex, Empty Child/Doctor Dances, Dalek

The Story:

The Doctor and Ace end up at a military installation during World War II. The scientist believes he's translating coded German messages using his supercomputer, but really he's translating the code that releases a being called Fenric from his watery prison. Things go pear-shaped from there, as Fenric unleashes a horde of vampires.

Why You Should Watch It:

I suppose "because it's awesome" isn't sufficient reason. Suffice it to say, this is one of the most intense Doctor-Companion episodes that exists in the classic series. The fight between the Doctor and Fenric progressed over centuries, and the question becomes, is Ace just a pawn in the Doctor's game, or something else? You need to watch it.

City of Death

For fans of: (I can't think of a new Who analogue, but feel free to suggest one in the comments! Maybe Vampires of Venice?) (Shadowturquoise has suggested The Shakespeare Code, as the Doctor and his companion enter the stories as tourists in both cases.)

The Story:

The Doctor and Romana go on a romantic holiday to Paris, only to encounter a plot to steal the Mona Lisa. Humor abounds.

Why You Should Watch It:

It LOOKS expensive. The entire episode was shot on location in Paris, so you get wonderful scenes of the Doctor and Romana wandering around being witty (oh the possibilities of a Woody Allen-written Doctor Who screenplay...but I digress). But then again, who needs Woody Allen, since this episode was written by Douglas Adams? Yes, that Douglas Adams.

This entire serial is television magic: the villain is played by Julian Glover, there's a ham-handed gumshoe that's escaped straight from the pages of Dashiell Hammett, and a cameo I wouldn't spoil for you if my life depended on it.

Go on. Which classic who episode do you recommend for newbies? Any that you love or hate?

In a nutshell, the finale was highly unsatisfactory. But I don't want to drown in negativity, as there seems to be plenty of that going on around the internet. Instead, I bring you 5 questions, along with theoretical answers. And like Jeopardy, many of the answers will come in the form of more questions.

1. Who is Madame Kovarian?

She came, she giggled maniacally, and she died, and yet we know nothing of her but her name. They made far too big a deal about her to just kill her off without a second word. We didn't even get the obligatory "when the Silents rule the Universe, I will be their sheriff!" scene.

2. Now that I mention it, what do the Silents actually want?

They seem to roam the Universe menacing people without any actual purpose in doing so. Do they really want to kill the Doctor just so he won't say "Doctor Who?"

3. Can asking "Doctor Who?" really be the question?

Methinks Dorium is pulling a fast one. As you may recall, the question has been asked MANY times, especially in Moffat episodes. One might say the question was both asked and answered by Reinette in The Girl in the Fireplace, we just weren't privy to the answer. Also, it's a really stupid question. There's no answer to be given that doesn't completely pull the rug out from under 50 years of continuity and character building. Making some grand statement would be incredibly cheap.

Steven Moffat needs to ask himself the same question that the Doctor asks himself when faced with the opportunity to prevent the Daleks from existing: "Do I have the right?"

4. If the Doctor's death is really a fixed point, how could he not die?

The answer is simple: it's not really a fixed point. To put it another way, the rumors of his death are greatly exaggerated, and always have been.

The only way this resolution isn't mind-numbingly pointless is if someone has been playing an extremely long game, convincing the entire Universe that the Doctor's death is a fixed point in time. Maybe it's the Doctor who's playing the long game.

Of course, as this is a time travel show, the only way that faking his own death could work is if he actually does manage to disappear forevermore. Perhaps he just travels around in various Tesselecta bodies henceforth. Well, that's one way of getting around the regeneration limit.

Also, according to the internal mechanics of this episode, the sudden "flattening" of time can't actually have anything to do with the Doctor's death, especially if he just has to fake his own death for time to be set right. That almost definitely proves there's another party involved who actually caused the flattening of time.

It could even be something as simple as River's astronaut uniform setting off the flattening of time if River fails to kill the Doctor, so he just needs to fake out the suit.

5. Who are the Ponds?

Post-episode, my fellow watchers were extremely confused by the timeline of the Ponds.

My problems with these two as characters are well documented, and I'm not going to rant about it further here. Instead, I offer an alternate explanation.

But to quickly recap: these characters either die, have their memories erased, have their realities reset, forget every lesson they've learned in previous adventures, and generally do not behave consistently like human beings.

So let's apply Occam's razor. Maybe they aren't human beings.

I offer an alternate theory: perhaps they've been assigned by some interested third party to keep an eye on the Doctor and follow his many manipulations of time. After all, only Amy and Rory (though now it seems like only Amy) remember the various erased and reset realities apart from the Doctor (and maybe River?). Perhaps the Timelords are returning and have ordered the Ponds to keep track of the Doctor's crimes against time. Or maybe they've been assigned as guardians to keep him safe (which seems more probable, and explains how they could magically create a military base in the middle of a pyramid).

If such a thing were true or possible, I'd further propose that the Ponds are Eternals, a race introduced in Enlightenment and mentioned to be hiding out in the void in Doomsday. The race are a bit like the Q Continuum, in that they've long ago lost touch with their humanity and engage in "petty amusements" to distract them from the eternal nothingness of their lives.

So perhaps these two are like intergalactic immortal Emma Peel and John Steed, charming their way through the Universe and resetting their relationship to new fantasies of romance whenever possible. It's just their way of keeping things fresh, switching around who's the needy one, switching out who's got the upper hand in any given episode.

Maybe the Doctor has even cottoned on to who they are, and it's the Ponds he needs to convince of his death, so he can escape their watchful eyes.

River, of course, would be an accidental by-product of the "today we're going to pretend we're parents!" roleplay. Which would explain why they aren't overwhelmed with parental concern.

I accept that these theories might be complete bollocks.

Play in the comments!

Another disappointing episode, but at least it wasn't as rage-worthy as the last three. Let's get on with it.

The writers have no interest whatsoever in dealing with motherhood.

Once again, the woman leaves at the beginning of the episode and returns in the end. Although, this didn't trouble me as much this time around because it's clear that Sophie has done the parenting and Craig hasn't quite connected with his child in the same way. Methinks the Moff has serious daddy issues.

At least this one's emotionally grounded

The friendship between Craig and the Doctor feels remarkably real to me, with so much genuine affection. He accepts their friendship for what it is, with a splash of hero worship.

The Doctor's doing another victory lap

But at least this time it isn't just because he's regenerating. He thinks he might actually die (and it's fascinating how accepting he is of his fate. The best stuff in this episode involved him facing up to who he is and how others see him and how nothing is quite so simple as he imagines).

Just when you thought Amy Pond couldn't get worse, she does

Cosmetics model? Blech. Nice to know that her adult emotional journey has gone from brainless adult sexpot to brainless adult sexpot, turning into an actual doll along the way.

And really, "The Girl Who Was Tired of Waiting"? She has literally learned nothing from God Complex, and as she doth protest too much, that only means she is still waiting.

The Cybermen have officially been Dalekked

The writers have taken a formerly terrifying villain and reduced it to something weak and silly, which not only undermines any feeling of danger within the episode, it undermines every encounter with the Cybermen before or after. Mechanical engineering can be defeated with love!

River Song has been out-camped

The actress who plays Madame Kovarian seems to have escaped from the set of Animaniacs, she's such a ridiculous cartoon. Complete with eye-patch and evil laughter. God.

Also, we learned that Let's Kill Hitler now makes no sense whatsoever. If River doesn't know she's a weapon, why did she try to kill the Doctor? Though it now makes sense why she would call him "The Greatest Man Who Ever Lived". He's her historical obsession!

If you're going to make a merely so-so episode, don't make call backs to widely beloved episodes

Just as God Complex called back to a classic Sylvester McCoy episode, this time we called back to a beloved Peter Davison episode.

Lynda Baron, the old lady in the shop, played one of my favorite Who villains ever, a campy space pirate on a quest for Enlightenment, in the Peter Davison episode Enlightenment (which is easily one of my top three Who episodes of all time, and frequently sits at #1 depending on my mood).

The God Complex centered around a minotaur who's a prison guard (at least I think that's what happened. I'm a little confused about the mechanics of it all, to be frank). But minotaur he was, with the usual trappings of horns and labyrinths and general menace.

But this bull-headed creature is no stranger to Doctor Who, whether we're talkingabout the original minotaur (The Doctor lent Theseus a ball of string, didn't you know) or variations thereof. Here's an overview.

THE MIND ROBBER

The Mind Robber is widely considered one of the most clever and imaginative episodes in the entire run of Doctor Who, tackling the very nature of creativity and fiction, and giving us fun set pieces like Rapunzel hooking up with comic book characters.

One episode of the story centers around a labyrinth populated by a variety of classical myths, such as a terrifying unicorn and Medusa. And at the center of the labyrinth, there is, you guessed it, a minotaur.

THE TIME MONSTER

Let me begin by saying that this story centers around something called the TOMTIT machine (that's what she said!). Blah blah Master/Doctor HoYay! plotty-cakes, and we all end up in Atlantis.

The magical plot device in this episode is guarded by the Minotaur in the heart of a maze, allowing the Doctor to continue his genocidal trend of eradicating all Minotaurs from the cosmos. You guys just need to see this episode, it's completely nuts. Sergeant Benton turns into a baby, and the Master hooks up with a Bond girl. I don't even know why the Minotaur is in it.

You do get this lovely "Doctor remembers his youth" scene though:

PELADON AND AGGEDOR

There's the actual minotaur. And there's Aggedor, who isn't technically a minotaur but has all the trappings. He brings us this wonderful scene in Curse of Peladon (Rule #21: The Doctor should never sing). This scene has the added bonus of perfectly encapsulating the relationship between the Doctor and Jo, who wanders through her episodes like she's on an acid trip. Skip to 1:21.

And then, rinse and repeat for Monster of Peladon (why they set two episodes in this horrendous storyverse is beyond me):

Wherein, somehow, Aggedor becomes a fire-breathing statue with a massive belly button:

HORNS OF NIMON

Nimon was of course referenced in The God Complex as a distant cousin of the minotaur in the new story. The Horns of Nimon is widely considered the nadir of the Tom Baker era, but I won't lie, I kind of love it.

Basically, an ambassador Nimon travels to a planet, pretending to be a God with advanced technology. There, it would convince worshipful residents to build a labyrinthine Power Complex to power a small black hole to bring in more Nimons. The Nimons would then drain all the locals of their life essence, and then move to the next planet as part of their "The Great Journey of Life."

It is suggested that the minotaur of classical myth was in fact a Nimon scout. Luckily, the Doctor and Romana (Romana, mainly) are there to save the day, leading to this great instance of "acting":

And there you have it! Minotaurs through the Doctor Who ages.

In which the writer, Toby Whithouse, borrows from one terrible Classic Who episode and one very good one...

Which is fitting because I don't know how an episode can be simultaneously so wonderful and so terrible. It has become abundantly clear that the writers have been spinning their wheels until they could get rid of the Ponds, and though I'm sad to say it, it has happened not a moment too soon.

We would all have been better off if Moffat hadn't decided that River was the daughter of the Ponds. That revelation has given no narrative payoff whatsoever, and has only served to make the Ponds seem unlikeable and irresponsible.

I won't be sorry to see them again, but I won't care particularly about them one way or another. Even my deep love for Rory Pond will not save what's happened to Amy.

Well, La-Di-Da

"How can you be excited about a rubbish hotel on a rubbish bit of Earth?" Goodbye Amy Pond. You will absolutely not be missed, not with a worldview like that.

On the one hand, it was gratifying to know that the writers not only recognized how weak a character Amy has become but actually wrote that into the episode:

"Oh, you're good. Oh, she's good. Amy, with regret, you're fired."

Although, with that statement, I knew that shiny new Person of Color was dead (Rule #214: You can be animal, vegetable or mineral, but if you're colored and you aren't a recurring character, you're toast).

On the other hand, Amy Pond has never been less likeable. When the Doctor had an emotional response to the death of someone he liked and respected, she shook her head!

You watched a real person die, and die bravely. SAY SOMETHING!

It's fine for Rory to show no reaction. He already knew that Rita would die. Check out the look of hate he gives the Doctor when he realizes the Doctor has drawn his love into yet another life-threatening situation:

He's very aware that they're not just daytripping through time and space, even when Amy isn't. And when the Doctor pointed out the past tense of Rory's statement, we know that he's already decided to leave, that he's checked out from the adventuring.

Breaking the Faith

I'm not just harping on about the writers' poor characterization of Amy because it's fun (though it very much is). It has created a serious narrative problem in this episode: it was far too easy to disabuse Amy of her faith in the Doctor.

Think about how that faith came about.

He showed up in her room for five minutes, and that was it. Then she waited for 14(?) years. In that time, she developed a near-psychopathic obsession with him. So how can he suddenly just reason her out of it? Of course he can talk sense to young Amy, she hasn't been damaged yet. But our Amy would need more than words to destroy her faith in the Doctor, even for a moment. As the previous episode demonstrated, it took decades of believing herself to be abandoned in a medical facility for that to happen!

Watch this scene from Curse of Fenric, a near identical moment when the Doctor must break Ace's faith in him to defeat Fenric and save their lives:

See that? The stakes are real. Ace's belief in the Doctor is built on the fact that he sees her for something more than what she sees in herself. He had to specifically challenge that. And most importantly? Even when she finds out he was lying, she's still angry.

Amy just wants to...carry on doing exactly the same thing. If they're leaving anyway, she could have expressed an actual desire to leave, rather than being dropped off unceremoniously. The Doctor sees her as a child that needs to be tended to, and he's right.

People who actually experience a loss of faith don't tend to be smiley afterwards. Whithouse was clearly trying to make some statement about faith, but its exploration was utterly shallow.

"Forget your faith in me."

"Ok! Cause faith is a switch you can flip."

"Our anthem is glory to...[insert name here]."

When the Doctor tells her that now she must be Amy Williams, I had the unhappy realization that he is exactly right: Amy has no conception of herself apart from the men she aligns herself with. I can't be upset with the Doctor for pointing that out, since the writers haven't included anything in the show to contradict that.

I had high hopes that this show would contradict the long-standing trope that women don't have stories to tell after they get married, but no. Post-marriage Amy behaves like that has completed her life, that there's nothing more she could want or have. Not even a baby. Not a career, not vagabondism, not a quiet shop selling peanuts in Mexico, nothing.

Why does Rory have no faith? Isn't it abundantly clear that he believes in Amy? Or maybe he doesn't anymore, which would be a nasty though unsurprising (and not OOC) turn for Rory to take, given that he just saw an Amy die, an Amy he believed to be the real Amy. Not for the first time, the Doctor sends the companion off with a character who might well come to hate her.

The Doctor's Agenda

The director of the episode went completely nuts with the angles, drawing shots from Orson Welles and Fritz Lang, but he did make one inspired choice: flipping from young Amy to old Amy in the Doctor's eyes.

Of course the Doctor simultaneously sees his companions as themselves and their even younger selves (to him, humans must permanently resemble fetuses, after all). He feels guilty about disappointing that young girl, the same way that parents feel weirdly disappointed when their children find out Santa Claus isn't real (you created the lie in the first place, you assholes!).

OTHER

-Can we stop with the running around corridors? The classic series typically had four episodes of 30 minutes each, and usually needed a bit of padding to keep the budget down. There's no excuse in 42 minute episodes, and this is the third episode in as many weeks with pointless scenes of wandering around.

-When Rory makes jokes about being a henpecked husband, there's no evidence whatsoever that Amy is so commanding anymore, so it just feels like cheap jokes that are in the script for the sake of...cheap humor.

-Can't wait to find out who the new companions will be! Will we finally get River in the Tardis?

-I'll be back with a non-Pond centric analysis later in the week (I had to cut so much material from this post, I have 4 full posts ready to go!)

And the biggest question of all: what's behind door #11?

In the first ten minutes of the episode, I was worried that they were going to take everything that was problematic about Sarah's stated arc in School Reunion and turn it up to 11. Both center around the idea that the companion sits around waiting for the Doctor until she grows old.

But what we get is far more nuanced. Amy became bitter in the 36 years she was left alone, and focuses that bitterness on the Doctor (which seems a bit unfair since she got herself into that mess, but whatever. Who presses the red button instead of the green?). It wasn't like he actually left her behind. She put herself into the fast-stream.

You could make much about how Rory waited 2000 years for Amy while Amy could barely stomach 36, but Rory is not the type to see things that way, nor should we be. Amy has had to fight for her life, again and again, all alone. Rory made the choice to wait, but Amy was stuck in the quarantine facility, and she had to do the best that she could in those circumstances.

So who could blame her for turning into Rousseau from Lost, all badass and mighty eccentric as a result of being deprived of her daughter and her companions (well, the daughter parallel exists, despite Amy and Rory forgetting about Melody, again).

Thankfully, Amy is the one that ends up saving herself. She thinks she's waiting for the Doctor and Rory to save her, but in a lovely twist, it turns out she's waiting for herself.

RORY'S CHOICE

Tom Macrae sets up what seems like a clear choice: older Amy or younger Amy? Rory, bless his heart, is such a good guy that he actually makes it seem like a difficult choice, though of course it isn't. He has to choose between an Amy whose life has passed her by, who has succumbed to bitterness and anger, who is out only for herself, and the Amy he knows (who may yet become all of the things we see in Old-Amy).

You could read the choice as Rory explicitly rejecting an old-aged Amy for the younger model, but that isn't really the choice for him, is it? He loves them both equally. We know that whichever one got out, Rory would do whatever he can for her. He almost accepts that Old-Amy is the only Amy, until the Doctor peskily overheard the original Amy. But Rory still doesn't make that choice. He accepts the option of rescuing them both. He thinks he can do that, and the Doctor lies that of course he can. Sneaky Doctor, depriving both Rory and Amy of agency. The Doctor decides he wants young Amy on the TARDIS, and manipulates them all to that end.

Silly Rory, forgetting Rule #1: The Doctor Lies.

ON THE DOCTOR'S DECISION TO CLOSE THE DOOR

Macrae has reintroduced a dark, manipulative side of the Doctor that we haven't seen since the Sylvester McCoy era. Remember when he tricked Ace into saving the mother she despised? Oh yeah. Is what he did to Old Amy worse? Oh yes.

According to the laws of time, surely he must save Older Amy? I understand how he can make that choice, given that both time-streams exist simultaneously. But who is he to make that choice? Who is he to decide that one lifetime nearing its conclusion is worth less than a life that has yet to be lived? Because this was a real life. This isn't like Donna's fake life in Silence of the Library, it is not a fiction. This brings to mind the erasure of Donna's memory. Would she have been happier had she died, knowing she became a hero, or happier with life as the selfish boor she was before? The Doctor made that choice for Donna. He didn't have the right.

He doesn't have the right to make that choice about Amy either, erasing a world of experience in order to return something more...what...innocent? The only difference this time is that Amy gets to carry on with the Doctor.

What's then troubling is that Old-Amy seems to affirm that choice, deciding her life is worthless, that she no longer has anything to live for. Yes, she died so that Amy could live, but she could have carried on in The Garden, with pet robot Rory (I want a pet robot Rory!).

ON EVERYTHING BEING MAGICALLY BACK TO NORMAL AT THE END

At the end, Rory clearly is not comfortable with everything that's happened, but he seems magically to have forgiven the Doctor. How could he? He recognized that, effectively, the Doctor killed Amy. An older Amy, sure, but isn't the whole point of the episode that she is still Amy? Rory should have stated, right then and there, that he wants to find his daughter and go home. Period.

And what about young Amy? She sees the Doctor and Rory explicitly choose to replace her older self with a younger model. Isn't that every woman's fear? It seems like a bit of a narrative cop-out that Amy is unconscious in that scene. What is Rory going to tell her happened? He can't tell her the honest truth, but I can't picture Rory lying to her either.

And they say relationships are complicated.

ON FORGOTTEN BABY SYNDROME

While young Amy is still a bit of a blank slate at the moment, at least older Amy has some clear drivers: she wants to live. She wants to survive, and she wants to be with Rory. But still, the writers wasted an opportunity with her. When she is asked what she's going to do after they're rescued, she says she's going to go traveling. If the line had simply been that she would go looking for Melody, it would have made so much sense, and it would have been poignant.

36 years is a long time to ponder one's regrets. And would older Amy have any greater regret than never having the chance to see her daughter again, that, in fact, she never even bothered to look for her before she was locked in the quarantine facility?

Anyway, I look forward to next week's episode, though I fully expect the writers to ignore any character growth from this episode.

OTHER

This episode reminds me of when I'd play video games simply so I could bathe in the beauty of the worlds they created, games like Myst, Riven and Obsidian, which had the same sense of beautiful oddness as The Garden does here.

-Am I the only one who wished that the Mona Lisa had "THIS IS NOT A FAKE" scrawled on the back? That would have been a neat bit of continuity.

-Did anyone else noticed how he "action music" specifically called back the action music from Utopia? Are we going to learn that the Master has the Ponds' forgotten baby and has in fact fob-watched the baby from their memories?

-If anyone actually followed the rules of my Pond-centric drinking game, they would be unconscious on the sidewalk in an alcohol-induced coma

While there are many drinking games out there for Doctor Who, this one will be Pond-specific. The internet is a-buzz (get it? get it?) with their shenanigans and this Saturday, you will be too.

Draining the Pond (credit for title goes to Jon Morris at antiscribe.wordpress.com)

RORONICUS POND

If Rory wears sexy glasses, smile, then drink.

If Rory says, "I'm a nurse," or any variation thereof, drink twice.

If Rory is dressed as a centurion with good reason, drink once.

If Rory is dressed as a centurion with no reason, drink twice.

If Rory dies, down your drink.

AMY POND

If Karen Gillan delivers a line in an inappropriately sexy manner, drink.

If she ends up in her policewoman costume, drink twice.

If Amy is bodyjacked, deprived of her memory, is falsely impregnated or otherwise violated, down your drink.

RIVER SONG/MELODY POND

If River kisses someone, drink.

If River Song shoots something, drink.

If she shoots one of the Doctor's hats, down your drink.

If River says "spoilers," just lock yourself in the bathroom and weep.

COUPLE POND

If Amy and Rory make out, drink.

If Amy and Rory make out in front of the Doctor, drink twice.

If an episode goes by without a single mention of their daughter: drain the pond. Down the bottle.

If Amy and Rory make out in an episode where they don't mention their daughter, skip the booze and throw yourself out the window headfirst.