Final Thoughts on Doctor Who: Season 32
Okay, then. Let's get this thing off my chest once and for all.
First off, I really don't think I can carry on defending bad episodes with the argument "Matt Smith's performance was quite good." Well, yes. He's a good actor, and is a joy to watch on the screen. But it's time to face facts: the part that Matt Smith portrays in Doctor Who is quite blatantly not the same part that Steven Moffat has been writing. I think that Smith genuinely gets the character of the Doctor, and, most of the time, sticks as best he can to that ideal of the lonely, brave, resourceful alien with the vast intelligence and the child-like curiosity. The problem is that the lines he's given by Moffat, and very occasionally some of the less competent guest writers (Stephen Thompson, Neil Gaiman, I'm looking at you), seem to be written for a different person altogether: some kind of inept, bumbling, foolish coward who relies on other people's selflessness and loyalty to get him out of scrapes. This is why both the Moffat-era finales jar so much when it comes to the characterisation of the Doctor: twice now (thrice if you count Let's Kill Hitler) we've seen the Doctor up against insurmountable odds, preparing himself for the end, an end which he does not fear, apparently because of his own courage and humility, which Smith portrays to tear-jerking effect. Suddenly, in a flurry of events that defy all logic, wham!, the Doctor is restored with no ill effects, whereupon Moffat reveals that he knew all along that he was in no real danger, and was just using his closest friends and allies as tools to facilitate his return, giving the audience the distinct impression that the Doctor's companions are nothing more to him than vessels to work the end-of-season magic that will make everything hunky-dory again. This is most jarring in The Big Bang, in which we go from Matt Smith delivering one of the greatest pieces of acting in television history to a sleeping Amelia, and then, in the very next scene, emerging from the TARDIS a laughing, joking, dancing fop, cheerfully admitting that he knew this would happen, and he basically just brainwashed Amelia to save his own skin. This wouldn't be so bad, except for Smith's performance of a sad, broken man: if he knew it was all going to be fine, why was he so upset? Well, the answer is to con the audience into believing the story has any real tension, regardless of the side product of the Doctor looking like an utter bastard. And it's the same with The Wedding of River Song, in which Smith gets to do more weary, resigned, "I'm going to die" acting, when he knows all along that he's going to be utterly fine, and could quite easily just tell everyone his plan. Why doesn't he tell them his plan? Well, in the real world, it's to create tension in the so-called "story." In-universe? Well, the only real interpretation left to us is that he's an attention- seeker who's acting like this so that he can listen to everyone talk about how great he is and what a great tragedy it would be if he died. And all the while, Smith is trying to inject conviction and gravitas into his lines, but he's been given lines and actions that don't mesh with his character. And, all in all, Smith's performance really hasn't been a patch on last year's partly because he's been looking so peaky, but also because his character arc has been all over the shop this year.
Secondly, Amy and Rory. I've explained what's wrong with them before: they've had their timelines altered so much over the past two years that it's impossible to discern who they actually are anymore, and it's blatantly obvious that the writers don't know. This has manifested itself in two ways: one, the fact that they don't act any differently towards each other or towards other people now that they're married, meaning that their relationship hasn't progressed at all, and neither has their character development; and two, the rather obvious sidelining of them throughout the second half of the latest season, because the writers have no idea how these people would realistically respond to the all the Melody/River stuff. It really sticks out, especially given RTD's focus on prioritising character development above all else (which, give Uncle Rusty credit, he was very good at, it's just none of his characters were particularly nice people) over the past few years. Speaking of River...
Thirdly, it's impressive how thoroughly they manage to annihilate the character of River Song, of all people. But they did. This year we were promised all the answers about who River really was. And what did we get? The revelation that she was Amy and Rory's daughter, which neither explained nor changed anything about the character and was only there to provide a helpful cliffhanger, not to mention the fact that it changed nothing regarding the way Amy and River interacted with each other. We also learned that, rather than have this great lengthy, meaningful relationship with the Doctor, she was just some random psychopath that latched onto the Doctor, of all people, and convinced herself that she was in love after exchanging about three sentences with him. The Doctor didn't even teach her to fly the TARDIS, or encourage her to pursue an academic life, or anything like that. Turns out she just somehow knows how to fly the TARDIS already, and became an archaeologist for the sole purpose of sinisterly stalking the Doctor. All the stuff Moffat's given us as reasons to trust River? Well, all that's come about not because of who River is as a person, it's all because that's what the audience already knows she does as a character. Satisfied? Thought not.
Finally, that damn mid-season break. When I first heard about it, and when the season first began, I erroneously assumed that the worst thing about it was its sheer unnecessaryness (which isn't a word. Well, it is now), a gimmick there purely so that Moffat could write even more ridiculously big cliffhangers that forego logic in favour of spectacle per year. Well, that was true, and indeed Moffat succeeded in wrapping the episode so securely around the (not even very good) cliffhanger that A Good Man Goes To War ended up having literally no story of its own. But the worst was yet to come, as the second half of the season revealed. You see, in hindsight, the evidence is mounting up that Moffat decided to split the season without actually planning the damn thing first. And then, having shoved in a massive three month gap between episodes, Moffat apparently decides that his audience are too stupid to remember things like characterisation or theme across said gap. So, what does he do? Well, he doesn't start anything like character arcs or story progression until about episode nine of his thirteen episode season, which makes the first half of the season feel even more superfluous and boring than it actually is, which is barely possible, while making the four episodes of the season that are remotely about anything (Nights Terrors to Closing Time) feel rushed and very confused. Were it not for the summer break, themes like the Doctor's sense of failure, Amy's conflicting emotions when it came to the extent of her trust in the Doctor, Amy and Rory coming to terms with parenthood, and Rory's desire to leave the TARDIS would have been allowed to play out over the course of the full season (or at least those episodes written by competent writers). Instead, the whole thing is crammed into four episodes, leaving a series of events that come out of nowhere and follow no reasonable or logical order. The Doctor is suddenly really guilty about something? Okay, what? And why? And why now? Rory wants to leave the TARDIS? Why? When did this come about? Wha- and now they've left? What, just like that? Why? And where the hell are they? What's going on?
Ultimately, it's just a mess. Themes that should have unified the series are instead squashed into either of the two halves, making the first half of the season feel insipid, the mystery of Amy's pregnancy clearly just filling out time until the cliffhanger, while the second half feels rushed and in completely the wrong order. And let's not forget that this is all the guest writers' work. Moffat clearly just doesn't care at all, and his episodes are consistently the worst of the lot, offering nothing but a bunch of disjointed scenes that seem to follow no proper narrative structure. I won't say I would prefer to have RTD back, because Moffat actually allows his guest writers the freedom to go and write decent episodes. I will, however, voice the opinion that RTD was a better writer than Moffat. Yeah, RTD couldn't tell a story to save his life, but at least he could string together a narrative. Moffat's episodes have no narrative. They're just... things. Horrible, horrible things.
Now, please can we get on with something more interesting?
