It’s hard to deny that Doctor Who has been one of the 21st Century’s televisual success stories. Since 2005, the BBC Wales production team has produced and aired 155 episodes across eleven series, with a twelfth in production. Alongside the main series, there have been animated serials, online exclusive shorts and humorous short skits for charity. Doctor Who dominated the BBC’s Christmas Day schedule for thirteen years before an unexpected shift to New Year's Day. Doctor Who has spawned three official spin-off dramas – Torchwood, The Sarah Jane Adventures and Class, and one unofficial spin-off, the Australian K9 children’s drama. The Doctor, his friends and foes now appear nationwide as toys, in magazines, on greetings cards and clothing, and at the height of the series' popularity, the Doctor’s choice of wardrobe had a measurable effect on British men’s fashion. A succession of exhibitions have appeared across the country, along with a live arena tour and a Punchdrunk theatrical production. Not bad for a series that appeared to have lived and died before the end of the 20th Century.
Who was a success for the BBC throughout the 60s, 70s and early 80s, but by
1989 its viewing figures had plummeted, its place in a modern TV schedule was
in question and its cancellation inevitable. In spite of a widely watched 1996
TV movie special and a thriving fan culture that kept the franchise alive
across various media, Doctor Who on
television seemed extinct. Then, in 2003, the astonishing announcement came
from the BBC: Doctor Who was coming
back. Back to TV where it belonged, and it was to be overseen by one of
television’s most respected writers, Russell T. Davies. TV experts wondered if
such an old-fashioned show could be successfully updated. Comedians and tabloid
columnists mocked the original’s wobbly sets and rubbish monsters. Fans of the
classic show read of developments with bated breath. News trickled out,
shocking those who were expecting something like the show they so fondly
remembered. Forty-five minute episodes! Short, one-episode stories, instead of
serials shown over weeks! Christopher Eccleston as the Doctor - in a leather
jacket! Pop star Billie Piper as his companion! Rights had been denied, and the
Daleks wouldn’t be in it! What would this new series be like?
We needn’t have worried. In 1989, Doctor Who fell. In 2005, Doctor Who - Rose.
All those concerns evaporated. To survive and succeed in modern television, Doctor Who had to adapt and evolve, just as it always had done. The 25-minute episode format appeared archaic back in 1989; punchy, 45-minute episodes were the way to go, and Rose was a breathless, exciting, funny adventure. Christopher Eccleston, an actor known for his stark, severe style of acting and for serious roles, brought an intensity to the Doctor that we never realised the character needed, yet allowed a rarely-seen humorous side to soften the character, making him someone we would truly love to travel with. Billie Piper silenced her naysayers, imbuing Rose Tyler with an enthusiastic lust for life, tempered by a believable, grounded personality. And we needn’t have worried about the Daleks. They’d be on their way soon enough, but for now, we had the Autons, making their first onscreen appearance since 1971. Rose showed what Doctor Who could be: fast, funny and modern, breaking new ground, yet still embracing its long, rich history. And that was just the first episode.
Watch that first series back again. There’s a nervousness there; the production team don’t know if this is really going to work. This is produced by people with the utmost commitment to their project, but with the knowledge that it could still fail. Television is a capricious medium. Received wisdom, in the early 2000s, was that the family audience no longer existed, and that Saturday evenings were now an almost-unwatched hinterland. Doctor Who reclaimed a whole niche of television, proving that, yes, the kids and their whole families could sit down to watch TV together. Russell T. Davies, as executive producer and lead writer, created a truly successful update of an old property. He reinvented the mythology, ditching years of fluff and paring it down with a new, easy to grasp backstory. The Doctor is an alien, from a people called the Time Lords, who travels through time and space in a ship called the TARDIS, which, due to a malfunctioning disguise, looks like an antique telephone box. The Doctor needs someone by their side, to keep them grounded in the human world, and to keep them from forgetting the good things in their life. Sure, more bits were added on, but at its heart, that’s what today’s Doctor Who is.
Russell T. Davies isn’t the only one who deserves credit for this series. Julie Gardner, his fellow exec. producer, fellow episode writers Mark Gatiss, Paul Cornell, Steven Moffat and Robert Shearman, the cast and the huge crew, all deserve credit. Still, it was Davies’s vision. He retooled the style of the series, rooting it in the mundane and everyday, with frequent trips back to contemporary Britain for visits to Rose’s family and friends. This allowed a strong root for the vital audience identification figure, and also made the fantastical elements of the show seems all the more astonishing by comparison. This is perhaps best illustrated by the second episode, The End of the World. Having visited the day of the destruction of the Earth, five billion years in the future, surrounded by death and destruction and a host of bizarre alien entities, Rose and the Doctor return to Earth and go for chips - and this becomes a vital character moment, where the Doctor opens up about his experiences in the Time War, the mythic new backstory Davies set up for the series.
Not everyone was happy with the new direction, of course. Many hardcore fans disowned the new series, considering it a betrayal of the show they loved. The Doctor kissed his companion, voiced his emotions at length and talked with a northern accent, all things which some fans considered a violation of the show they loved. Others took a more pragmatic approach; the Doctor was felt to be ineffectual, relying on others to save the day, and relied on his sonic screwdriver too much, removing tension with its magic wand-like abilities. The familiar complaint from the classic series’ heyday, that the series was too scary and was unsuitable for its children-heavy audience, reared its head once again. The acknowledgment of sexuality, including homosexuality, in what was seen as a children’s show, drew criticism from many quarters. The presence of a science fiction show in a primetime slot sat poorly with many in television, who viewed such series as the province of geeky ‘cult TV’ slots. Yet these were minority views, with the viewing figures frequently hitting seven or eight million, a rarity for non-soap television drama at the time. Critics voiced their appreciation of the series, praising the writing and performances. Children adored the adventure and the scares, with girls finding Rose to be a strong, positive role model - a young woman who wasn’t rich or posh, but was still intelligent, capable and strong.
Things couldn’t stay the same forever. Doctor Who was always a series that thrived on change. It’s
fascinating to see how the series has developed over the years, sometimes in
predictable ways, sometimes not. Most obviously, the Doctor has changed.
Eccleston decided, for complex reasons, to do only a single series, bowing out
after his thirteenth episode. Fortunately, Doctor
Who came with a built-in get-out clause. In the closing moments of The Parting of the Ways, having saved
Rose from the damage she had done to herself ridding the Earth of the Daleks,
the Doctor regenerates. Like Eccleston, David Tennant had previously worked
with Davies; Eccleston starred as Stephen Baxter in the Church-bating drama The Second Coming, while Tennant had
played the eponymous Casanova for
the BBC, both of which had been penned by Davies.
Tennant’s tenure as the Doctor propelled the series even further in its
popularity. His Mockney Cockney wideboy interpretation of the role charmed
audiences and made him into a TV heartthrob. Some found the verbal barrage of
this Doctor annoying, but his enormous popularity with fans is undeniable. By
this stage, a fully-fledge fanbase had grown up around the new version of Doctor Who, and their love of Tennant’s
Doctor was at the root of this. Tennant, as much a fan of the classic series as
Davies, was living a childhood dream by playing the Doctor, and it shows. His
is a sillier, more over-the-top Doctor, but he still had the darker, damaged
side of his predecessor; it wasn’t gone, just hidden.
Doctor Who is not just about the Doctor, however. It never has been, although the Time Lord came to dominate a series that had, in its formative years, centred around the bewildered humans who were whisked off in the TARDIS. Rose brought the focus back onto the companions. The first two years of the series were viewed primarily through Rose’s viewpoint, a canny decision on the part of Davies and his team. Rose wasn’t the first companion to be strong, interesting and capable, far from it, but Doctor Who on television had rarely been so much about the character so often regarded merely as an assistant.
As we got to know the new Doctor through Rose, the two became ever more involved. They were thick with each other, having the time of their lives, and this was perhaps a mistake. The pair of them could be insufferable at times; there’s a fine line between confidence and cockiness. Yet, when they were finally split up, separated by the boundaries of reality, only the coldest heart failed to be moved. After two years of Rose Tyler and her periphery of friends and family, Doctor Who stepped back to a parade of companions. The third and fourth series each had a regular female companion for the run, who would then drop in and out for the remainder of Davies’s reign as showrunner. This element of the series, with the Doctor having returning friends rather than a strict parade of companions, began in the first series, not only with on-off boyfriend Mickey and Rose’s mother Jackie, both of whom would appear in the show’s frequent visits to contemporary Earth before eventually finding themselves on the TARDIS, but also with Rose’s short-lived flames. The wet Adam (Bruno Langley) existed purely to contrast with Rose and show how much more suitable she was as companion material, but the flamboyant Captain Jack Harkness, played by the even more flamboyant actor-presenter-singer John Barrowman, was a greater success, returning for both the final adventures of series three and four and heading up four series of his own adult-oriented spin-off, Torchwood.
Freema Agyeman had a tough act to follow, coming in as Billie Piper’s replacement. Martha Jones was, on the face of it, more suitable as an adventurer, a highly intelligent, capable doctor-in-training. Audiences failed to take to her in the same way as they had to Rose, although she certainly has her fans. Some of this was down to the vague similarities between the characters; they both fell in love with the Doctor, both have difficult mothers, both represent modern London young adults. More pertinently, Martha was deliberately written as living in the shadow of Rose, and this stopped her character from truly taking off until she was written out of the show, leaving at the end of the third series to live her own life. Nonetheless, she made several return appearances, both in Doctor Who and Torchwood.
Catherine Tate’s turn as Donna Noble is perhaps the series’ most
surprising success. Her sudden appearance at the end of series two’s closer, Doomsday, mere moments after the Doctor
bid a “final” goodbye to Rose, was certainly a surprise. Many believed her role
in the Christmas episode The Runaway
Bride to be nothing more than a case of stunt casting (they should have
held fire - Kylie Minogue was in it the next one, leading to the highest ratings
of the period). Tate remains best known for her comedy work, and was ubiquitous
on British television at the time. However, reluctant adventurer Donna proved
to be a hit, so much so that the intended one-off companion was brought back to
be the regular audience identification figure for series four. Donna is one of
the most normal, down-to-earth, realistic characters to have travelled in the
TARDIS, and Catherine Tate’s ability to switch between perfect comic timing and
devastating emotional displays proved her to be a fine choice for a series
For a series that had taken such pains to avoid referencing old mythology and trivia , Doctor Who was, by its fourth year, developing a great deal of its own baggage. The fourth series ended in a two-part extravaganza which reunited almost all the companions who had appeared in it since the show returned to the screens, bringing in character from the spin-offs and exploring the hinted at mythos of the Time War in more depth than ever before. Russell T. Davies’s approach to the series can be described as “kitchen sink,” in two different ways: not only as in the classic “kitchen sink drama” style of mundane life, and also as in “Everything but the - !” in his approach to barnstorming, budget-busting series finales. They certainly drew in the viewers, but by the fourth series finale, the series was becoming self-indulgent.
Following the fourth series, Doctor Who took a well-deserved break. Again, this led to attacks from fans and journalists, assuming it was a method of quietly cancelling the series, or accusing it of pandering to the commitments of its stars (David Tennant was appearing in a high-profile run of Hamlet during this time). In reality, the production team had been working flat-out for four years, and something was going to give sooner or later. A fresh approach would be needed, and the so-called gap year allowed the show breathing space. The current team could begin wrapping up their era, while the new crew could prepare for theirs. 2009 featured only four episodes of Doctor Who (technically three - the fourth aired on 1st January 2010), plus a short animated serial… not to mention the spin-offs. The two-part finale, The End of Time, acted as both Christmas and New Year specials, temporarily resurrecting the Doctor's people, the Time Lords, from their apparent end in the Time War. Though the episode focused on Bernard Cribbins’s loveable character Wilf, Donna’s grandfather, it too brought back a plethora of familiar faces. Davies, never shy of yanking at the audience’s heartstrings, carefully calculated Tennant's exit for maximum tears.
After three years, with two full series and a run of specials under his belt, Tennant, now one of the most bankable actors in Britain, left the role, his seemingly indestructible Doctor dying from a dose of deadly radiation. He explosively regenerated into Matt Smith. The departure of Tennant acted as a chance to wipe the board, with Davies and his co-execs leaving the show. Steven Moffat, author of some of the most popular episodes of the show, took over as chief writer and executive producer. His interpretation of the Doctor is perhaps more mythic in its approach; although Doctor-worship had reached delirious levels by the end of Tennant’s time, Moffat’s version of the Doctor is truly a force of nature, a powerful element of the universe. Yet Matt Smith, the youngest ever actor to take on the role, plays the Doctor as a stumbling galoot, klutzing his way around the universe. Some disliked his silly, comical take on the role, but they perhaps missed the point: this strange young man in a wonky bowtie is merely a front for an ancient, increasingly powerful alien being who simply wants to travel around and see the universe. In his quiet moments, Smith’s Doctor belies an age beyond the actor’s years.
The bowtie is a visual clue to how the series developed over time. While Eccleston's Doctor was deliberately not-posh and eschewed the eccentric dress sense of the 20th century Doctors, Tennant was more flamboyantly stylish and Smith, in contrast to his youth, wore a very old-fashioned series of costumes, calling back to the earlier Doctors. The series has proved more willing to celebrate its past as it has developed, particularly under Moffat. The first series was at pains to mention as little as it could about the show’s history. Terms from the original series barely feature: TARDIS, Time Lord, Sonic Screwdriver, Time Agent, Dalek, Nestene, UNIT. In the second series, Elisabeth Sladen returned as Sarah Jane Smith, the Doctor’s companion from 1973-76, in a move that had far reaching consequences. She even brought robot dog K9 with her. References to classic serials cropped up. By the fourth series, the Doctor was making offhand references to The Sensorites (a rather obscure 1964 serial), and the Christmas special The Next Doctor treated the fans with a montage of the then full roster of ten Doctors. In the fifth series, Smith's Doctor explicitly identified himself as the eleventh, and William Hartnell, the very first Doctor, made no fewer than four appearances in swift visual winks. The climactic episode The Pandorica Opens featured not only every available monster costume from the past five years, but referenced a dozen other alien races from the classic series and beyond.
Monsters are, of course, a staple part of Doctor Who’s format and the source of much of its success. The most
famous example, of course, are the Daleks. Fan fears that the Daleks wouldn’t
be appearing in the new series were allayed when an agreement between the BBC
and the Terry Nation estate allowed their use. Although fondly remembered by
many, the Daleks had become a laughing-stock by the time the original run of Doctor Who had ended. People laughed at
their pepperpot shapes, their sink plunger arms, their supposed inability to
climb stairs - they’d actually been hovering for years, and had triumphantly
chased Sylvester McCoy’s Doctor up a flight of stairs in the 1988 story Remembrance of the Daleks, but that had
been seen by far too few people to defeat the myth. In 2005, an episode going
by the straightforward title Dalek
revived the metal monsters. Russell T. Davies and Robert Shearman created a
script which took all the risible elements of the Dalek design and made a
virtue of them. The sink plunger crushed skulls. The silly bumps were
explosives. The Dalek flew up stairs, and this time, millions of people saw it
happen. People actually became frightened of the Daleks again, and a new generation
of children learned to love them. The Daleks returned again that year to face
Eccleston’s Doctor in his final adventure, and since then have appeared roughly
once every series, either as the main villain of an episode or in a cute cameo.
The most recent episode, 2019's New Year's special Resolution, saw the newest Doctor take on a redesigned Dalek. An
unfortunate side effect, however, is that the Daleks have become the single
most frequently defeated villain in the series' history.
This isn’t to say that the series has relied solely on tried-and-tested monsters. The concerted efforts of the writers, make-up artists, prosthetics technicians and the Mill’s CGI crew have come together to create some truly inspired new creatures. While the Davies years relied a little too much on animal-headed humanoids, there were many more imaginative creatures on show. The bulbous, green Slitheen, with their persistent wind problems, were an unfortunate step into childish gross-out humour - they proved far more suited to kids’ spin-off The Sarah Jane Adventures - but other aliens were very successful. The tentacle-faced Ood, created as nothing more than a one-off bunch of mooks, proved popular and flexible enough to return as a major component of the show’s growing mythology, while other memorable creations include the rawheaded Sycorax, the paper-thin Lady Cassandra, the petrifying and petrified Weeping Angels, and the chilling gas-masked zombies of The Empty Child.
These last two creatures sprung from the imagination of Steven Moffat. The second showrunner’s take on Doctor Who proved an interesting development on the first five years of the show. While much of the groundwork was laid by Davies, Moffat proved capable of making wise decisions when it comes to which elements to keep and which to reject. His episodes frequently have a fairy tale quality, and he has proved time and again to have a flair for arresting visuals and child-friendly horror with ingenious central conceits. Moffat took elements of his earlier episodes and reworked them to create his own vision for Doctor Who. Romance was at the heart of his version of the series. The fiery Amy Pond, played brilliantly by Karen Gillan, was the main companion and focus for two-and-a-half years. While she has been an occasional love interest for the Doctor (probably unrequited, but who can say), her true love is Rory, her fiancé, now husband. Played with the utmost sympathy by Arthur Darvill, Rory Williams is a man who would wait two thousand years and transcend death for the woman he loves. He’s surely the greatest hero the series has produced. The Doctor isn’t immune to the love of a good woman - if good is the word to describe River Song, aka Melody Pond, aka actress Alex Kingston. Introduced in fourth series episode Silence in the Library, River was a surprising returnee to the series under Moffat. She had, after all, died in her first story. This is, however, no issue in Moffat’s universe. The man who invented the catch-all paradox-waiving phrase “timey-wimey,” has written some of the most complex, time-twisting tales in all of Doctor Who’s long history. From the causal loop of Blink, through Amy’s inexplicable childhood and River’s convoluted life, Moffat’s tales of time travel and time dilation have been some of the most talked about in the show’s run.
Is his approach really so complex though? Perhaps not. The fifth series opener The Eleventh Hour, may hinge on time travel, but comes across as deceptively simple, and acts as a perfect introduction to a new Doctor and companion. A whole new cast and crew, more or less, was being sold here, and Moffat’s team managed it with aplomb. The Eleventh Hour, and those episodes that followed it in series five, illustrate some key differences between the worlds of Davies and Moffat. In place of Davies’s council estates and London boroughs, Moffat opts for picturesque villages and rural idylls (albeit largely filmed in Cardiff and environs). Equally British, yet more aesthetically appealing. Moffat introduces his key identification figure, Amy, as a child, before zooming ahead to see the results of the Doctor’s influence on her life. Moffat’s version of the series is more literary than that of Davies. In Moffat’s universe, science takes a backseat and magic does the driving. The Doctor can give himself up in a grand gesture to save the universe, but be brought back by Amy’s fond memories. The laws of time can be suspended, but it’s fine, because the narrative works. The Doctor’s life is a story, and we’re just listening to the telling.
The series has reached worldwide success, particularly in the States. Doctor Who has sold well in the USA since its return, but in the around 2011 American sales rocketed, thanks to a combination of saleable Britishness and canny marketing. Moffat isn’t blind to this, and set the opener to series six in America. The series had previously dabbled with this, in Daleks in Manhattan, but The Impossible Astronaut was steeped in Americana. It’s a clever approach; not only does it appeal to the US audience, making them feel part of the otherwise very British adventure, it also offers the home nation’s audiences something visually new. Series six juggled movie-inspired episodes with more complex emotional plots, and marketed itself with big, confident declarations of intent. The Doctor dies in the first episode! This one’s got pirates in! Let’s Kill Hitler! The Wedding of River Song! Titles and concepts designed to stick out in the TV listings.
Matt Smith's tenure was marked by increasingly complex ongoing storylines. While viewers could casually drop in for an episode, dedicated viewing and reviewing was encouraged, with mysteries getting their pay off after many episodes. The sixth season was essentially a single, intricate story, building up questions, clues and red herrings in preparation for a grand climax. Whether said climax actually worked, or made any sense, is another matter. Series seven, unusually, was split across two years, with the 2012 half bringing Amy and Rory's storyline to a conclusion, and the 2013 half having the daunting task of both introducing a new companion and preparing for Doctor Who's fiftieth anniversary celebrations.
The longest running companion of the revived series, Miss Clara Oswald, was a personification of Moffat's storytelling style. The charismatic and beautiful Jenna Coleman first appeared in a surprise role in the series seven opener, Asylum of the Daleks, appeared as another version of the character in the Christmas special The Snowmen later that year, before finally being formally introduced as the “real” version of Clara in the second half of the series with The Bells of Saint John. While she shared wonderful chemistry with Smith, the mystery of Clara's identity overshadowed her character for her first batch of episodes. It was finally resolved in the season finale, The Name of the Doctor, which also gave viewers one final shock twist: the introduction of a previously unknown incarnation of the Doctor, played by respected thespian John Hurt.
Having inherited the series in the run up to the fiftieth anniversary and overseen its growth to international success, Moffat worked with the BBC to promote the occasion as a huge event. A feature length special was concocted, shown simultaneously across the globe and even in cinemas. In the grand tradition of previous anniversary specials in old days, The Day of the Doctor featured multiple Doctors. While Moffat had planned to include Christopher Eccleston as the ninth Doctor, he declined, forcing a major rethink. Hence, John Hurt as a new version of the character – a one-off celebrity special version. Hurt's Doctor – who refused to even go by the name Doctor – was slotted in between Paul McGann's TV movie incarnation and Eccleston's relaunched hero, and neatly sidestepped the numbering issue the writer had created. Bringing back Tennant as the tenth Doctor and teaming both versions up with Smith's character, The Day of the Doctor embraced the history of the series right back to its beginnings, but focused on the modern mythology, tackling the Time War once and for all and moving events forward. There were also fan-pleasing star turns, including Billie Piper's return, albeit not as Rose, and the surprise cameo of Tom Baker, the most popular Doctor of the original run, in a mysterious new role.
The huge success of Doctor Who in the anniversary year was perhaps the modern series' greatest triumph. It was, however, followed by a slump, perhaps the only way it could go after such heights. Smith bowed out in the following episode The Time of the Doctor, which bookended his time-twisting adventures but failed to satisfyingly answer any questions. He was replaced by Peter Capaldi as the twelfth Doctor. With Capaldi in his mid-fifties, the return to an older actor in the lead provided stark contrast to Smith's youthful adventurer and saw something of a return to the series' routes. Capaldi's Doctor was deliberately abrasive, and to begin with at least, rather hard to like. However, his style and gradual development gained him numerous fans. Coleman continued as Clara through the entirety of seasons eight and nine, allowed more complex emotional storylines now that the mystery of her existence was resolved, developing a remarkable, warm yet spiky relationship with Capaldi's Doctor. She finally bowed out after some powerful storylines which saw the Time Lords return once and for all and the Doctor face some of his most memorable enemies once more.
Aside from the Daleks, the Doctor's most persistent enemies have been the Cybermen and the Master. The cyborg monsters returned to face Tennant's Doctor in the second season, going on to face him and Matt Smith over the following years, while the Master was kept for the finale of series three. The Doctor's opposite number, the villainous Time Lord was played briefly by Sir Derek Jacobi before regenerating into John Simm, whose interpretation was more like a hyperactive child than a criminal mastermind. His next appearance in the two-part The End of Time spelled the end for Tennant's Doctor. For the finale of series eight, the two-part Dark Water/Death in Heaven, both the Cybermen and the Master returned again. Only this time, a further regeneration had turned the Master into the Mistress. Missy, as she prefers to be called, was played as joyfully evil by Michelle Gomez. She would continue to appear throughout Capaldi's tenure, becoming an essential feature of his era.
After a second year off, series ten was deliberately styled as a break from the increasingly involved and backwards-looking stories that had preceded it. A new companion was introduced – Bill Potts, a young woman who was more the Doctor's student than partner, was designed with modern sensibilities and representation in mind. Played by Pearl Mackie, Bill was a woman of colour, openly gay, definitely not posh and a breath of fresh air. The Doctor and Bill were sometimes accompanied by Nardole, the Doctor's new guardian/butler, played by comic actor Matt Lucas. Like Catherine Tate, he had been designed as a one-off comic relief character for a Christmas special, before being promoted to a regular after considerable retooling. Even more surprising was Missy, revealed gradually as being the subject of a rehabilitation programme by the Doctor. While series ten did feature some old monsters, it was mostly fresh, until the two-part finale. World Enough and Time saw the Cybermen return once again, in an origin story that called back to their first appearance in 1966; a request by Capaldi himself, whose fan credentials put even David Tennant to shame. As if that weren't enough, John Simm returned as the Master – rather more restrained this time – to join forces with his own female future self.
The finale was a tour de force, a grand final story from Moffat, who
after eight years was more than ready to move on. However, his replacement,
Chris Chibnall, wasn't yet free of his own commitments. Rather than leave the
series without its now-traditional Christmas episode, Moffat penned Twice Upon a Time, a final story to see
out Bill and the twelfth Doctor, and brought it all full circle by bringing
back the first Doctor, now played by David Bradley. This meeting of two grumpy,
white-haired old Time Lords seemed a very deliberate choice to contrast with
the immediate future. In the end, Capaldi gave a grand farewell speech and the
twelfth Doctor regenerated into the thirteenth – played by Jodie Whittaker, the
first woman to lead the series.
In 2018 the eleventh series aired, under the aegis of Chris Chibnall. Although he had written scripts both for Davies and Moffat, they were never among the best regarded episodes (although series seven's Dinosaurs on a Spaceship was a lot of fun). Chibnall has, however, a strong track record as showrunner on the very successful Broadchurch and also oversaw Torchwood in its first two seasons. Under Chibnall, Doctor Who has entered its third distinct phase of the modern era. After a return to London and briefly Bristol as primary settings under latter-day Moffat, Chibnall's 21st century base for the series is the industrial vistas of Sheffield. His version of the programme is very deliberately diverse and representative. Whittaker plays the Doctor as forthright and fun-loving, striving for fair play and vocally non-violent. Her three-strong team of companions (a return to the larger teams of the sixties and early eighties version of the series) is made up of ordinary people enjoying the wonder of the universe. Bradley Walsh plays Graham, a salt-of-the-earth type of bloke, while Tosin Cole plays his step-grandson Ryan and Mandip Gill police officer Yasmin Khan. With a female Doctor, an older white male companion and two young companions of colour, it's a diverse line-up. In lien with this, Chibnall has made efforts to include new writers for the series, particularly writers of colour, bringing new perspectives to the show. Episodes include the acclaimed Rosa, in which the travellers meet Rosa Parks, and Demons of the Punjab, set in on the India-Pakistan border at the time of the Partition. While bringing non-white history to the fore is new, the return to a more educational style of storytelling, while embracing a mix of genres, harks back to the very earliest days of the series in the 1960s.
Unfortunately, anything that is explicitly inclusive threatens a backlash. Davies seemed to fair quite well against this, but even he was accused of having a “gay agenda” for including queer characters, even though there were far more of them under Moffat's reign. Gay, black companion Bill had her own undeserved share of bigoted criticism, while the gender change for the Master had some fans in fits. The subsequent change of sex for the Doctor, combined with a deliberately mixed race cast, has led to anger from the more close-minded fans. While the new version of the series was lambasted by hardcore fans back in 2005, many of the same are now calling it a golden age and looking at the latest version as a betrayal. Critics, on the other hand, are mostly in favour, while more negative when it comes to the strength of the writing in the latest series. General viewers, however, are enjoying the new direction, with record figures for Whittaker's debut, although ratings have declined since then, although such a downturn over the course of a series is not unusual.
This is Doctor Who for the
iPlayer generation, and it has had a particular success on this service. People
simply do not watch television in the way they once did. The newspapers take
great joy in kicking a show when it’s seen to be a success, and have latched
onto Doctor Who’s flagging overnight
ratings – just as they did during the Capaldi era, or when ratings dipped after
the unmatchable final run of Tennant's episodes. The truth of the matter is
that most programmes’ overnights have suffered. Meanwhile, Doctor Who has become one of the most watched shows on BBC iPlayer
since its launch, and one of the most recorded programmes ever. The world
changes, and television changes along with it. One thing Doctor Who has always excelled at is embracing change. With a
twelfth series set for 2020 (after another year off, perhaps not the wisest
move publicity wise), we can expect more changes as this newest version of the
series is refined.
Published on July 22nd, 2019. Review: Daniel Tessier 2019.