Thursday, 21 March 2019

Desperately Tweaking Susan

 By Danny Nicol
University of Westminster


The first episode of Doctor Who, “An Unearthly Child” (1963), is considered by many to be the finest in the programme’s long history.  It introduces us to the Doctor and TARDIS through the intermediary of the Doctor’s granddaughter, Susan Foreman.   Susan attends a London secondary school.  Her teachers, Ian Chesterton and Barbara Wright, are mystified by her scientific and historical knowledge as well as by the gaps in her knowledge.  On a pretext they try to visit her home, only to stumble into the TARDIS and be whisked away through time and space - with scant hope of return since the TARDIS is erratic.  Before this, however, Susan reveals that she and her grandfather are from another time and world.  Tulloch and Alvarado have analysed how the episode skilfully presents Susan as “familiar but different”. (1)

The Doctor kidnaps Susan

A popular narrative is that, in “An Unearthly Child”, the Doctor kidnaps Ian and Barbara in order to preserve the secret of his and Susan’s scientific advances.  A close reading of the script however indicates that his prime objective is actually to stop his granddaughter from leaving him:

SUSAN: I want to stay!  But they’re both kind people.  Why won’t you trust them?  All you’ve got to do is ask them to promise to keep our secret quiet.
DOCTOR: It’s out of the question.
SUSAN: I won’t go, Grandfather.  I won’t leave the twentieth century.  I’d rather leave the TARDIS and you.
DOCTOR: Now you’re being sentimental and childish.
SUSAN: No, I mean it.
DOCTOR: Very well.  Then you must go with them.  I’ll open the door.
BARBARA: Are you coming, Susan?
(The Doctor, instead of flipping the switch to open the doors, dematerialises the TARDIS.)
SUSAN: Oh no, Grandfather!  No!

From the outset, therefore, the story of Susan and the Doctor is one of domination.  The male Doctor knows best: he decides Susan’s future regardless of her own wishes.  This sets a pattern for the rest of her time in the TARDIS, including her departure.

Susan’s demotion

Given her centrality in the opening episode and its emphasis on her other-worldliness and advanced knowledge, one might expect Susan to emerge as a central figure in Doctor Who and that the show would make maximum use of her alien attributes.   In fact Susan is routinely relegated.  David Butler observes that Susan has considerable dramatic potential and appeal but that this is allowed entirely to stagnate after “An Unearthly Child”. (2)   In fact Ian and Barbara constantly outshine her in terms of agency:   
  • “The Keys of Marinus” (1964) sees Ian and Barbara engaging in daring adventures to find the missing keys to a computer which controls a planet’s conscience.  Susan by contrast mainly tags along with her grandfather. 
  • “The Aztecs” (1964) centres around Barbara being mistaken for a god.  She uses this status to try to abolish the Aztec practice of sacrifice, whilst Ian competes in an ultra-masculine feud to the death with an Aztec military commander.  By comparison Susan’s role is essentially passive, being threatened with arranged marriage and having to be rescued.  
  • “The Dalek Invasion of Earth” (1964) features exceptional agency on the part of Ian and Barbara. Ian stops a Dalek bomb which is aimed at the Earth’s core.   Barbara penetrates into the heart of Dalek headquarters in a bid to destroy their control panels.  Both of them act entirely on their own initiative.  Susan by contrast arrives at the Dalek HQ in the company of her grandfather and newly-acquired boyfriend David Campbell, and plays a useful role only by obeying the Doctor’s instructions to the letter.

Susan’s untapped potential

Susan was therefore regularly eclipsed by the Doctor’s two human companions.  Her nadir comes in “The Reign of Terror” (1964) where she is terrified by rats in a prison in revolutionary France.  By contrast Susan’s finest hour comes in “The Sensorites” (1964) where she uses telepathic power to communicate with an alien species.  Her gift for telepathy is clearly greater than the Doctor’s.  But instead of using Susan’s telepathy to restore and rebuild her as a character, Doctor Who immediately undercuts her agency, by having the Doctor veto her attempt to journey alone to the Sensorites’ planet in order to reason with them.  In the ensuing argument, as Joan Frances Turner observes, the more Susan protests that she is no longer a child the more aggressively her grandfather infantilises her. (3)

Susan is not even allowed to determine her own departure: torn between new love David Campbell and concern for her grandfather at the close of “The Dalek Invasion of Earth”, the decision is made by the Doctor, who locks her out of the TARDIS and tells her that her future lies with David.  Agency is thereby once again whipped away from her.  Tellingly, any difficulty which might arise in the marriage from Susan not being human is entirely ignored, the programme having played down her alien nature for much of the time. 

All in all, it is little wonder that Carole Ann Ford who played Susan was so dissatisfied with the production team’s unwillingness to develop Susan that she left the series.  Furthermore neither Susan’s later appearance in “The Five Doctors” (1983), the show’s twentieth anniversary special, nor her roles in several ‘Big Finish’ audio adventures, really serves to transform the character. 

The politics of Susan

Why did the Doctor’s granddaughter come to be portrayed as such a wet blanket?   Susan might fit into Richard Wallace’s category of a “screamer”, on his reading the most recognisable type of Doctor Who companion and one of the least effective representations of women that the programme has to offer. (4)  A political analysis would place Susan’s period in the TARDIS in the context of a time in the early 1960s in which feminism was only just emerging from its 1950s torpor.  In the 1950s gender relations were organised along patriarchal lines.  Women were still largely connected with the domestic sphere and men with the world of work.  It was only in the 1960s that social and political changes threatened these traditional roles. (5)  It was during that decade that “second wave” feminism emerged as a form of politics aiming to transform the unequal power relations between men and women. (6)  Susan and the more feminist Barbara may be seen as representing those two different phases, with Susan more confined to the ‘traditional’ role. 

Sometimes the frustrations of the show’s treatment of Susan have spilt out into fan fiction.  The present author, for example, has concocted several adventures in which a pro-active Susan (now serving in the post-Dalek British government alongside her husband) solves murders in time and space along with the Doctor’s later companion Romana.  As well as showcasing her telepathic skills, Susan uses her intelligence to find the killer of an intergalactic magnate, solve the case of an exploding Prime Minister on a faraway planet, hunt down the perpetrator of the killing of the Guardian of the Solar System at a hotel run by Sergeant  Benton, and identify a murderer in a political whodunit set in post-Dalek Britain.  It was not difficult to combine familiar "Susanisms" with unfamiliar derring-do.  Fanfic provides scope to flag up a programme’s shortcomings in a creative and constructive way: establishing a non-sexist Doctor Who canon is, however, a taller order.

Echoes of Susan

Doctor Who’s failure to make the most of Susan might be dismissed as a sexist aberration of the programme’s early years, of little relevance to modern Doctor Who.  In fact, as Alyssa Franke and I argue on the pages of the Journal of Popular Television, the contemporary programme undercuts the Doctor’s more recent companions Donna Noble and Amy Pond by consigning them to the rather Susan-ish fate of happy domesticity after their time in the TARDIS. (7)  In the last series, the number of “Yaz-lite” episodes is cause for concern, echoing the “Susan-lite” episodes of the past.  So too is the exclusion of the Doctor for the first time from the main emotional engagement of the series – the evolving granddad-grandson relationship between companions Graham and Ryan – an exclusion which coincides unhappily with the advent of the first woman Doctor.  Doctor Who’s disservice to Susan Foreman as a character was immense, and in so doing the show did a substantial disservice to itself.  The programme’s makers need to be more vigilant that the lessons are fully learnt.




Notes

(1)   J Tulloch and M Alvarado, Doctor Who: The Unfolding Text (St Martin’s Press, 1983) pp.24-26.
(2)   D Butler, “How to Pilot A TARDIS”, in D Butler (ed.) Time and Relative Dissertations in Space (Manchester UP, 2007) p.40.
(3)   J Turner, “I’m from the TARDIS and I’m here to help you: Barbara Wright and the Limits of Intervention”, in D Stanish and L Myles (eds.) Chicks Unravel Time (Mad Norwegian Press, 2012) p.78.
(4)    R Wallace, “‘But Doctor?’ A Feminist Perspective of Doctor Who” in C Hansen (ed) Ruminations, Peregrinations and Regenerations (Cambridge Scholars, 2010) p.104.
(5)   K Milestone and A Mayer, Gender and Popular Culture (Polity, 2012) p.33.
(6)   J Hollows, Feminism and Popular Culture (Manchester UP, 2000) p.3.
(7)   A Franke and D Nicol, “‘Don’t Make Me Go Back’: Post-feminist retreatism in Doctor WhoJournal of Popular Television Vol. 6 No. 2 pp.197-233.

Monday, 25 February 2019

Was Doctor Who too political?

 By Danny Nicol,

University of Westminster



In a famous article in 2004 Alan McKee asked whether classic era Doctor Who (1963-89) had been political.   He argued that one should analyse fans’ views of whether they saw the programme as political.  He discovered that they did not see it as such, at least not in the sense of state-level politics (“Is Doctor Who Political", European Journal of Cutural Studies vii/2 (2004: 201-217).  By contrast in 2018 there were complaints of Doctor Who being too political, indeed “too preachy”. 

This post argues that this may have been the case, but only in the sense that episodes with a highly political content were rather unwisely bunched together instead of being more adroitly “diluted” by “less political” stories.  Furthermore it could also be contended in the programme’s defence that the issues which featured in these highly-political episodes were, for the most part, very familiar to those who follow the show.

The opening episode, “The Woman Who Fell to Earth” (2018), tackles the Doctor’s regeneration into the first woman Doctor (Jodie Whittaker), as well as introducing the new companions – Yaz Khan (Mandip Gill), Ryan Sinclair (Tosin Cole) and Graham O’Brien (Bradley Walsh). Whilst the Doctor’s gender change was something new, the possibility had already been flagged up by the earlier transformation of arch-enemy the Master into Missy.   Nor is diversity of companions anything new: although Yaz is the Doctor’s first Asian companion, Ryan is the Doctor’s fourth black one; and the experiment of an older companion in Graham had already been made with Wilf Mott’s (Bernard Cribben’s) one-off role as companion in “The End of Time” (2010).

In their first adventure in outer space, “The Ghost Monument” (2018), the Doctor and her companions become embroiled in a cut-throat competition between two humanoids each determined to win a race.  The episode becomes an allegory against over-competitiveness, the lesson being that individuals are stronger when they work together.   This message is nothing new.  Indeed it was the theme of the very last serial of classic-era Doctor Who, “Survival” (1989), which enlisted British comedians Gareth Hale and Norman Pace as shopkeepers to underscore the story’s normative stance that too much competition is a ruinous thing.

The team then journey to 1950s Alabama for “Rosa” (2018), in which an alien time meddler tries to disrupt history so that the famous Rosa Parks bus incident does not occur.  Anti-racism is a well-worn theme of Doctor Who and the story is somewhat reminiscent of “Remembrance of the Daleks” (1988) where the Doctor has to fight a group of British racists who are none-too-subtly in league with the Daleks.   The similarity of “Arachnids in the UK” (2018) to the classic-era story “The Green Death” (1973) was widely noted.  Both have the theme of corporate irresponsibility towards the environment - and human life. 

“Kerblam!” (2018) envisages an Amazon in outer space.  It continues Doctor Who’s well-worn anti-corporate theme, since Kerblam! is evidently not a nice place to work.  Yet the tale also seems to criticise “extremist” methods of achieving egalitarian ends.  This again is nothing new: the same message was apparent in “The Monster of Peladon” in 1974.  “Demons of the Punjab” (2018), set at the time of the India-Parkistan partition, condemns religious intolerance yet also dwells on the limits of time-travellers’ legitimate interference in the course of history.  Both these themes are central in “The Massacre of Saint Bartholomew’s Eve” (1966) which concerns conflict between Catholics and Protestants.

Towards the latter half of the series there were several episodes with less overtly-articulated political themes.  “The Tsuranga Conundrum” (2018) involves gender-swapping, with the Doctor and Yaz being the all-action heroes whilst Graham and Ryan serve as birthing partners for a pregnant man.  “The Witchfinder” (2018) also takes up the theme of gender discrimination but the message is softened by being comfortably removed to the seventeenth century.  “It Takes You Away” (2018) is a morality tale about mortality and grief with perhaps the least overt political content of the series.  The series finale, “The Battle of Ranskoor Av Kolos” (2018), concerns faith and doubt – arguably more religious than political.  The New Year special, “Resolution” (2019), takes up a pervasive theme of the series: that family is not about DNA or sharing a surname but is about how one treats those one holds dear.  Indeed by the end of the adventure the Doctor refers to her companions as “extended fam”.

The episodes with the most overt political content, therefore, ended up being substantially bunched together.  Herein lay the production team’s only real mistake.  Jane Esperson, a writer for Battlestar Galactica, has commented that the thicker the metaphor and the more distractions there are for the viewer, the more the writer of a science fiction programme can “get away with” by way of political messages.  Crucially, therefore, writing political science fiction involves an element of skill, in order to “get away with it”.  To be sure, “political” Doctor Who is something to celebrate: it allows the programme’s writers to create dystopias and flag up what is worrisome within our country.  It enables them to draw attention to the gap between the nation as it is and the nation as it ought to be.  It permits them to circumvent - at least to an extent - the BBC’s political conservatism.  But political messages need to be spread elegantly like caviar not smothered on like marmalade.  A degree of subtlety is required so that viewers enjoy the politics of Doctor Who rather than feel that the show is ramming its politics down their throats.

Tuesday, 16 October 2018

When you're in space the whole cosmos is British

By Danny Nicol
University of Westminster


Representing Britishness: new companions Ryan and Yasmin
The new series of Doctor Who is notable for its inclusivity.  Much attention has rightly focused on the long-overdue casting of a woman to play the Doctor and Jodie Whittaker’s predictably superb performance.  Diversity in the show has also benefitted from the introduction in ‘The Woman Who Fell to Earth’ (2018) of the Doctor’s first Asian companion (Yaz), first middle-aged companion (Graham) and fourth Black companion (Ryan).   Yaz’s and Ryan’s recruitment into the TARDIS contributes to a sense of celebration of Britain as a multi-racial country.  Ryan (presently a warehouse worker) and Graham (former bus driver) join the brief list of the Doctor's unequivocally working class companions.  Graham’s efforts to secure an emotional relationship with Ryan as grandson are not merely touching but also reflect how ‘complicated families’ are now part of life in Britain and beyond.  Furthermore Graham’s expressions of feelings for Ryan also erode notions of the ‘stiff upper lip’ Brit and of natural gender difference in the articulation of emotions.

Doctor Who’s cultivation of a different sort of inclusivity may have attracted less attention.  It concerns the show’s ambitions to reflect Britain as a geographical whole. The Doctor speaks in a Yorkshire (northern English) accent.  The opening episode is set in Sheffield, in Yorkshire.  Two of the companions - Ryan and Yaz - speak in Sheffield accents whilst Graham has a cockney, London accent.  So three of the four TARDIS crew speak in Yorkshire accents and none uses RP – Received Pronunciation – the standard form of British pronunciation of English based on a southern English accent and traditionally heavily promoted by the British Broadcasting Corporation in earlier decades to the exclusion of regional accents. This ‘critical mass’ of northern accents is remarkable, especially given the conflict with the production team which Christopher Eccleston engendered by using a northern accent to play the ninth Doctor. 

Northern Powerhouse: the Doctor excited to commence
her career in manufacturing
No less remarkable was using Sheffield as a setting, enabling the use of several minor characters also with Yorkshire accents.  The show’s ‘London-heavy’ tradition was only marginally eroded by staging the last series ostensibly at a university in Bristol in the south west of the country.  The Bristol setting was compromised through the scant use of actors with Bristol accents let alone Bristol landmarks.  It is hard to escape the conclusion that Bristol got a raw deal as an 'anywhere-but-London' token setting.  The shift to Sheffield was more genuine and it is to be hoped that it becomes a base for more than one adventure.  Furthermore the Doctor’s manufacture of a sonic screwdriver from Sheffield steel gently connotes optimism about the North’s industrial future, forming a contrast to Brit-grit films about the city such as The Full Monty (1997) which do not see beyond the post-industrial.

But the changes go further.   Since 1963 Doctor Who has introduced us to an array of non-Earth humanoids.   Part of the vast 'willing suspension of disbelief' which Doctor Who requires of its viewers is that the universe is full of species who look just like us.   These non-human humanoids overwhelmingly spoke in RP accents, especially in classic-series Doctor Who.  This was often the case even where the characters were working class, such as the Peladonian miners in ‘The Monster of Peladon’ (1974).  Possibly RP provided a kind of neutrality, an umbrella under which alien voices could be imagined.   This tradition has now been eroded in ‘The Ghost Monument’ (2018):

GRAHAM:     ‘Scuse me!  We are human beings!  Show a bit of solidarity!
EPZO:           (in a Northern English accent) I’m Muxteran, she’s Albarian.
ANGSTROM: (in a Northern Irish accent) Never even heard of Moomanbeans!

Time will tell if aliens with an array of British accents becomes another Doctor Who fixture for viewers to accept.  In the meantime it serves to emphasise, like so much else, Doctor Who’s mission of representing the whole United Kingdom and emphasising its rich diversity - even in outer space.

Friday, 3 August 2018

Thatcher and the Tharils: a political interpretation of "Warriors' Gate"

 By Danny Nicol
University of Westminster

“Warriors’ Gate”, a four-part Doctor Who adventure broadcast in 1981, is one of the Doctor’s most surreal escapades.  Influenced by I Ching philosophy and Couteau’s La Belle et La Bête (1946), brilliantly directed and set for the most part in a white void, it has been described as “beautiful, violent and ultimately inexplicable” (Mark Campbell, Doctor Who, Harpenden: Pocket Essentials, 2000, p.64).  In a detailed analysis of the serial in his book The Humanism of Doctor Who (Jefferson NC: McFarland, 2012, 224-230), David Layton argues that “Warriors’ Gate” is about Taoist-Buddist philosophy with an emphasis in particular on the notion of ethical non-action – the choice to go along with the tide of events.  Ethical non-action is based on the idea that one may only determine the right action when one has the right facts.  By contrast, according to Layton, the serial condemns destructive and dangerous activity driven merely by the perceived need to do something. 

A Whoniverse of interpretations

Layton’s is a perfectly viable interpretation of “Warriors' Gate”, yet his reading tends to depoliticise the adventure.  The story was broadcast at a particularly dramatic time in British politics and a credible political interpretation of the serial is also readily apparent.  There is no reason why a political reading should not co-exist with a philosophical one.  After all, as Rebecca Williams has observed, the idea of a singular homogenous and stable interpretation of Doctor Who which establishes an officially constituted reading formation cannot be sustained (“Desiring the Doctor: Identity, Gender and Genre in Online Fandom”, in British Science Fiction Television: Critical Essays, eds. J. Leggott and T. Hochscherf (Jefferson: McFarland 2011), 167-177, 177.)   Nor can authorial intention be the only guide to interpretation.  As Matthew Jones has argued, the concerns that underpin recent British history have emerged in Doctor Who regardless of whether the production team intended to invoke particular socio-political anxieties. (“Army of Ghosts: Sight, Knowledge and the Invisible Terrorist in Doctor Who”, in Impossible Things, Impossible Worlds: Cultural Perspectives on Doctor Who, Torchwood and the Sarah Jane Adventures, eds. Ross Garner, Melissa Beattie and Una McCormick, (Newcastle-upon-Tyne, Cambridge Scholars Publishing, 2010), 45-61, 52.).

Captain Rorvic menaces the Doctor and Romana
In very condensed form, the plot of “Warriors’ Gate” is that the TARDIS along with a large privateer spaceship are pulled into a white void which straddles two universes.   Aside from the two ships the only object in the void is an ancient gateway.  The privateer craft - staffed by a humanoid crew – is a freighter transporting members of a slave race, the Tharils.  These Tharils are a valuable commodity since they are “time-sensitive” and are used to guide spaceships through the “time winds”.  Exploring through the gateway the Doctor discovers that the Tharils were once a dominant race, enslaving others, but were ultimately overthrown and are now themselves enslaved.  It also becomes apparent that space and time are contracting within the void, but the Doctor is advised by the Tharil leader, Biroc, that the best course of action is to ‘do nothing’.  The captain, the energetic Rorvik, compels his unenergetic crew to use the backthrust of his ship in order to try to escape the void.   The blast destroys ship and crew, but the Tharils, being time-sensitive, manage to escape, as does the TARDIS.  At the end of the adventure the Doctor's companion Romana leaves in order to help the Tharils, a departure which I have commended in an earlier post.

The serial was broadcast in 1981, two years into Margaret Thatcher’s period as Prime Minister.   Her premiership marked a revolution in British politics which ultimately led the country in a more capitalist direction.  Privatisation was one of the central tenets of the Thatcher years, as was the general promotion of private enterprise.   Deregulation meant less emphasis on an ethical state (reflected in the serial’s slave trading) and more emphasis on liberating the energies of the entrepreneur (which finds expression in the busy Rorvik).  Yet Rorvik’s subordinates are performed as lazy and apathetic, suggesting that the new more aggressive form of capitalism, however energising for those in the upper echelons, would not meet the needs of those lower down the social scale.

Biroc the Lionheart

Just as one may read the spaceship’s demotivated crew as representing the British workforce so too there are indicators in favour of reading the Tharils as something as a metaphor for the British.  Significantly Biroc himself prompts the comparison between Tharils and ourselves by telling the Doctor and companions that he is “a shadow of my past and of your future”.  The Tharils are lion-like, and the lion is an animal associated with the English.  King Richard I, famed for his wars in the Middle East, was known as ‘Richard the Lionheart’ and lions remain on the Royal Standard and a symbol of the national football team.  The enslaving, Empire-building Tharils hark back to the imperial era in which the English, and subsequently the British, were involved in the slave trade. 

Under Biroc's guidance the Doctor and Romana 'do nothing'
As Graham Sleight observes, the sophistication of “Warriors’ Gate” is that unlike other slave races in Doctor Who such as the Ood, the Tharils can be both slave and enslaver.  (The Doctor’s Monsters, London: IB Tauris, 2012 139-143, 142).  The idea that the British (the Tharils) are subsequently enslaved may seem far-fetched, and of course the metaphor of science fiction and dystopian fiction often exaggerates.  Yet the idea of the British as victims of colonisation chimes with socialist texts of the time.   In particular in the same year as “Warriors’ Gate” the leading left-wing Labour politician Tony Benn published Arguments For Democracy (Harmondsworth: Penguin, 1981: 3-17) in which he characterised Britain as a colony.  Benn argued that British democracy has declined and that the country faced a national liberation struggle as “the last colony in the British Empire”.  He argued that Britain was under the influence of economic imperialism from the growth of private monopoly, that the country subordinated itself to the USA in foreign and defence policy, and that it had formally surrendered national sovereignty and parliamentary democracy to the European Economic Community (now European Union) making it a colony of an embryonic Western European federal state.  These were the views of many on the Labour Left at the time, before they were toned down in response to the Thatcherite tsunami.

Doing nothing as response to Thatcherism

Finally the plot emphasises that the way to resist oppression is “to do nothing”.   If the new hard-line capitalism be seen as the source of oppression then this may seem absurd.  Yet one should beware the benefit of hindsight.  At the time, many political figures saw Thatcherism as a blip.  The Conservative Cabinet was split between “drys” who supported the Prime Minister’s new ideology and “wets” who favoured a return to more consensual policies.  Many assumed the wets would triumph.  Indeed many mainstream politicians thought that Thatcherism would be a temporary aberration.  Middle-of-the-road Labour figures such as Roy Hattersley and Peter Shore gave lectures on how the country would soon recommence its journey along the road to social equality.  

Ultimately, like Rorvic, Thatcher was indeed undone by her hyperactivity and hubris.  Her insistence on a regressive means of financing local government, known as the Poll Tax, guaranteed her political demise.   Yet as Simon Jenkins has shown in Thatcher and Sons (London: Penguin, 2007) her ideology outlived her.  Rechristened neoliberalism, it was enforced and expanded by Conservative, Coalition and New Labour governments alike.  A political interpretation of “Warriors’ Gate” provides a reminder that in Thatcherism’s early years this course of events was not seen as inevitable or even likely. 


Wednesday, 9 May 2018

When the Doctor got too big for his boots

By Danny Nicol
University of Westminster



A well-known feature of Doctor Who is the Doctor’s ability to change his/her physical appearance (and, to an extent, character) through regeneration.  This has proven an invaluable device for refreshing the programme with new lead actors.  The 2017 Doctor Who Christmas special “Twice Upon A Time” took advantage of regeneration to imagine an encounter between the twelfth Doctor (Peter Capaldi) and the first Doctor (originally William Hartnell, here David Bradley) and to explore the tensions between them.

The Doctor....and the Doctor.
I am not here referring to the rather overdone drolleries about the first Doctor’s sexism (something which was not actually so very apparent in the years when William Hartnell played the Doctor).   Rather, the first Doctor and twelfth Doctor have a series of disagreements which resonate with other political interpretations of Doctor Who

  • The first involves the protection of Earth.   When an alien entity materialises, the first Doctor tells it that Earth is a level five civilisation.  The twelfth Doctor chips in: “And it is protected!”  The first Doctor is taken aback: “It’s what?  Protected by whom?”

  • The second involves whether the Doctor is “the Doctor of war”.  The alien later declares to the first Doctor that he is known by all in the Chamber of the Dead, since he is the Doctor of war.  Indignant, the first Doctor denies being the Doctor of war.  He later misunderstands the title as meaning that the Doctor saves lives during wars.

  • The third involves the twelfth Doctor’s (and other recent Doctors’) habit of bragging.   When the twelfth Doctor threatens the alien, the first Doctor retorts: “Why are you advertising your intentions?  Can’t you stop boasting for a moment?  Who the hell do you think you are?”

The tale of two Doctors

The differences between the first Doctor and the twelfth Doctor thereby emerge as a pervasive theme in “Twice Upon A Time”.   The Doctor’s contemporary sense of self-importance and his military dimension certainly seem to form a contrast to the show’s early years, where the eccentric gentleman would gad hither and thither, meddling sporadically with no grand mission.   Yet these differences cannot entirely be ascribed to politics.  To an extent they are due to the sheer flow of time.   

The Doctor commences his role
as defender of Earth
In this regard it would be misleading to draw too bright a line between the two Doctors.  When it comes to the Doctor’s roles as protector of Earth and Doctor of war, the seeds were actually sown during the first Doctor’s era.  In “The Daleks” (1964-5) the Doctor unequivocally acts as a war leader, helping the Thals against the Daleks – who end up being exterminated.  In Doctor Who – A British Alien? (2018) I argue that the Doctor’s war is difficult to justify, since the Daleks (whose genocidal ways we do not know at this early stage) express their desire to eliminate all Thals only after the war has begun.  Furthermore in “The Dalek Invasion of Earth” (1964) whilst the Doctor does not quite articulate a role as defender of Earth he nonetheless states that he must prevent the Daleks’ plans to pilot the Earth right out of its orbit since that would “upset the entire constellation”.  This was a significant development in the Doctor Who formula.  Prior to this, the Doctor and his entourage would often leave the TARDIS to see if they had landed on contemporary Earth so as to return the Doctor’s original companions Ian and Barbara back home.  They would somehow get separated from the TARDIS and the adventure would revolve entirely around the effort to return to the ship.  “The Dalek Invasion of Earth” gives the Doctor a more heroic mission. The foundations of the Doctor’s roles as Doctor of war and defender of Earth are therefore readily apparent in the first Doctor’s era. As time wore on there were more such adventures.  The instances of the various Doctors’ Earth-saving and military-style meddling simply mounted up and attained critical mass, so that the titles of “defender of Earth” and “Doctor of war” were no longer fanciful – and the Doctors had something to boast about.

The tale of two eras

By the same token, completely to exclude a political dimension is not entirely convincing either.  In the 1960s when William Hartnell played the first Doctor, British foreign policy was comparatively peaceful.  In particular, whilst expressing support for President Lyndon B. Johnson’s Vietnam campaign, the 1964-70 Labour government kept British forces out of it.  The 1960s were also a time of decolonisation as the transformation from Empire to Commonwealth continued.   Against this backdrop Doctor Who could conceivably have developed to place more emphasis on the Doctor fostering co-existence and on care for the Other as well as the human/humanoid.  Alas, this did not quite happen. 


By contrast, however, post-2005 new-Who was broadcast in a very different climate.  In the wake of the 9/11 terrorism, Britain under the Labour government of Tony Blair joined the Americans in invading Afghanistan and later joined the invasion of Iraq.  Interventions in Libya and Syria also ensued.  This more aggressive stance vis-à-vis the rest of the world was reflected in Doctor Who in a critical fashion.  Undeniably the importance of the Doctor’s military and defence role has increased in post-2005 Doctor Who, reaching its logical conclusion in “A Good Man Goes to War” (2011) where the very word “Doctor” is accorded a new meaning of “mighty warrior”.  This stance is amplified by the twelfth Doctor’s opening series in 2014 where the pervasive theme was whether the Doctor was “a good man” or “a blood-soaked general”.  The programme increasingly dwells on the idea of the Doctor having fashioned a military and defence role, and does so in a very explicit way.  It also tries on occasion to soften this assessment with talk of him being “kind”, or being just “an idiot with a box” who “helps out”.  Suffice to say that sometimes the Doctor metaphorically critiques Britain’s role in the world.  Yet at other times he himself serves as a metaphor for Britain’s role in the world.  Through him, contemporary politics is exposed on screen for pitiless appraisal. 

Tuesday, 27 March 2018

A Whoniverse of Welsh women

By Danny Nicol
University of Westminster




Acting in Doctor Who used to be fraught with danger.  Concern over being typecast deterred some actors from accepting roles (e.g. Peter Jeffrey declined to play the second Doctor) or shortened the duration of their stint in the programme (e.g. Anneke Wills' Polly made an earlier exit than the production team desired).   Nowadays the culture has quite changed and the threat has receded, as evidenced by some of the plum roles in which former Doctor Who actors have subsequently excelled.

Jenny in action, accompanied by the Doctor
In this regard two crime dramas may slip under the radar, being primarily aimed at a Welsh audience. Catrin Stewart, who played Jenny Flint, Victorian maid and wife of the reptilian Madame Vastra, in Doctor Who, played policewoman Gina in S4C's Bang last year (S4C being the public service Welsh language broadcaster).  Eve Myles - Gwen Cooper in Torchwood and Doctor Who - is presently playing Faith, a solicitor, in S4C's Keeping Faith.  What is remarkable about these two programmes is how easily they can be read as more feminist than Doctor Who itself.  

Catrin Stewart's Welshness would not be obvious to Doctor Who viewers given Jenny's impeccable Cockney accent.  Yet she is indeed Welsh, and Bang was a bilingual series, with part of the dialogue in English and part in Welsh.  Given her Welshness it is regrettable that Doctor Who did not allow Stewart to use her Welsh accent as Jenny.  After all by contrast with the Welsh, Londoners and London are not exactly under-represented in Doctor Who.   Eve Myles' Keeping Faith is bilingual in a different way, with viewers able to choose between watching a version entirely in English and a version entirely in Welsh.  
Gwen and Captain Jack investigate

In the Whoniverse neither Jenny nor Gwen were allowed to entirely fulfill their potential.  In "The Crimson Horror" (2013), possibly Jenny's finest hour, she rescues the Doctor in an intrepid investigation on her own, culminating in an Emma Peel style action sequence, but her performance is undercut by being forcibly kissed by the Doctor -  a sexual assault which Alyssa Franke rightly criticises in her Whovian Feminism blog.   As for Gwen, in Torchwood she comes to assume the role of second-in-command of Torchwood Cardiff next to Captain Jack Harkness, yet not even for a short period do we see her lead the organisation.  Lorna Jowett praises Gwen for producing many critiques of Jack, but notes that when she needs more depth her family tends to get wheeled out (Lorna Jowett, Dancing with the Doctor, London: IB Tauris, 2017: 26, 52).

Perhaps one should be grateful for small mercies.  "Classic" Doctor Who (1963-89) did not exactly distinguish itself in its depiction of Welsh women.  In "The Green Death" (1973), an adventure set in Wales, Welsh women are far from prominent.  A character called Nancy actually makes the fungi-health-cake which kills the story's giant maggots, but Nancy is marginalised.  Indeed the most memorable woman in the serial (other than English companion Jo Grant) is the Doctor's comic impersonation of a cleaning lady.  In "Delta and the Bannermen" (1987) - which also has a Welsh setting - Welsh character Ray (Rachel) is relegated to being the tale's spurned love-interest.  The most high-up Welsh woman in classic Who was probably Megan Jones, head of the nationalised energy company in "Fury from the Deep" (1968), though her main contribution is to let the Doctor get on with it.

Always a worry:
Gina and her brother
By contrast with Doctor Who new and old, Catrin Stewart's and Eve Myles' characters in their Welsh crime dramas strike a more feminist note.  Bang is a series about a brother-sister relationship.  The programme persistently contrasts Gina (Stewart) with her ne'er-do-well brother.  She is clever than him, more competent, with a keener sense of public duty.  He by contrast falls (albeit from the best of intentions) into criminal ways and ends up acquiring a gun, hence the show's title, leading to mayhem.  Keeping Faith concerns a marriage in which Faith's (Myles') husband vanishes.  This leaves Faith having to juggle investigating his disappearance with keeping their struggling law firm afloat, and looking after their three children.  She makes mistakes and is herself suspected by the police of doing away with him, yet her strength of character shines out.  What unites Bang and Keeping Faith is the pervasive theme of the women outshining the men.   This rather contrasts with Doctor Who where, as Lorna Jowett points out, women characters are too often defined by their relationships with men (Lorna Jowett, "The Girls Who Waited?  Female Companions and Gender in Doctor Who" Critical Studies in Television 9:1, 77-94)
Faith encounters a rather inadequate client

Yet it ought to be the other way round.  Doctor Who, after all, is the science fiction programme.  As such it has special dispensation to depart from the real world into the realms of the speculative, the imaginative, the uncanny.  It should be able to imagine and fashion relationships which depart far from the "dominant man, subordinate woman" template of the show's 1970s era.  As Jodie Whittaker takes command of the unruly console as thirteenth Doctor, the programme has much ground to make up.  






Tuesday, 30 January 2018

Chips and the Doctor

By Danny Nicol
University of Westminster

Making, serving and eating chips (fries or French fries in the US and Canada) is something which recurs in Doctor Who.  An important dish in Britain (not least as part of the famous fish and chips), chips have been used in the post-2005 programme to project the closeness between the reassuringly familiar and the humdrum. 

Chips have their downside
Thus in “The End of the World” (2005), the Doctor and companion Rose Tyler witness the final moments of the planet Earth.  The TARDIS then transports them back to contemporary London, as the Doctor grimly reflects on his own dead world and on being the last of his kind.  Rose’s response to this trauma is: “I want chips!”  “Me too!” adds the Doctor.  Chips are therefore something cheering: the familiar after the unnerving.  Two years later in “The Sound of Drums” (2007), chips again represent a clinging-to-the -familiar when companion Martha Jones buys them for the Doctor and Captain Jack Harkness, the trio having returned to Britain only to find it is being governed by despotic Prime Minister Harold Saxon, in reality the Doctor’s arch-enemy the Master, who is hunting them down.

Bill Potts winks at her love interest whilst serving her
a generous portion of chips
A decade later in “The Pilot” (2017), chips serve to make banal something previously rare in Doctor Who: a romance between two women.  New companion Bill Potts, a black lesbian, tells the Doctor a yarn in which she favoured an attractive woman with extra chips when working in the university canteen, unintentionally fattening her: “Beauty or chips.  I like chips.  So does she, so that’s OK”.  The Doctor questions whether she really came to university to serve chips and promptly offers himself as her personal tutor. 

Yet the reassuringly-familiar can blur into the dull.  In “The Parting of the Ways” (2005), the Doctor deliberately separates himself from Rose to save her from the Daleks, sending her back to present-day London.   Her mum Jackie and friend Mickey take her to a chicken-and-chip shop to have chips.  Rose mentions eating chips as part of the routine of the mundane life, contrasting that to the better way of living shown by the Doctor where “you make a stand and say no”.  Here, therefore, eating chips is not cheering but depressing.  As Ken Chen observes, the scene provides the misery of banality contrasted with the escapism of adventures with the Doctor (K. Chen, “The Lovely Smallness of Doctor Who” 2008-01 Film International 52).  Again, in “The Doctor Falls” (2017), Bill Potts’ girlfriend Heather, having saved Bill’s life by turning her into a water-based being, offers Bill a choice:
“I can make you human again…I can put you back home, you can make chips, and live your life; or, you can come with me.”
Bill seemingly opts for life in her new form with Heather, rejecting the reassurance of her previous existence in favour of adventure.  It is worth noting that the two Doctor Who companions particularly associated with chips - Rose Tyler and Bill Potts - are (alongside 1960s companion Ben Jackson) the Doctor's only working class companions in the Doctor's largely middle class cohort of TARDIS fellow-travellers.  


Companion Rose Tyler shows her fondness for chips
One instance of Doctor Who’s use of chips disrupts the simple spectrum of the comforting and the familiar shading into the humdrum.  In “School Reunion” (2006) chips are deployed in something of a metaphor for privatisation.  Set in a secondary school, chips loom large in the school dinners served by Rose Tyler.  The Doctor, posing as a teacher, complains that the chips are “a bit…different” whereas Rose thinks they’re gorgeous.   Most of the teachers (who are alien Krillitane posing as humans) attach importance to the children eating the chips.  It becomes apparent that there is something odd about the oil in which the chips are cooked.  It is Krillitane oil, which boosts the children’s intelligence, enabling the alien Krillitane to use them as a giant computer.  The idea of unwholesome school dinners and the ulterior motives of those who arrange them corresponds to concerns over the contracting-out of school dinners and the way in which they contain too much processed food, leading to programmes like Jamie’s School Dinners (2005).  Yet “School Reunion” fashions a science fiction mirror image of the British problem in which poor nutrition adversely affects school performance.  Obesity, including childhood obesity, remains a major problem in Britain.  Even when it comes to chips, therefore, Doctor Who does not evade the political. 


Announcement: lecture in London on Doctor Who's politics and law: all welcome

Professor Danny Nicol will be delivering a lecture on the themes of his new book Doctor Who - A British Alien? on Tuesday 6 March 2018, 5.30pm-6.30pm at the University of Westminster, Regents Street, London.  All welcome.  Obtain your ticket via the link below.

The lecture will explore the political dimensions of Doctor Who, the world's longest-running science fiction television series, arguing that the programme is just as much about Britain and Britishness as it is about distant planets and monsters.  The lecture interrogates the substance of Doctor Who's Britishness in terms of individualism, globalisation, foreign policy adventures and the unrelenting rise of the transnational corporation.

https://www.eventbrite.co.uk/e/ssh-professorial-lecture-doctor-who-a-british-alien-tickets-41943051797