The opening story of a new series of Doctor Who has certain expectations. A light-hearted adventure that gently eases us into an exciting new season of time-travelling fun. This is what we get to some extent- we have the Doctor being silly at various points in history before having a picnic with his friends before the credits roll. Then, an Apollo Astronaut appears in the lake and the Doctor is shot dead in a way that certainly answers the question about how to kill a being that can regenerate. The cosiness is gone and, as River promised in "The Big Bang" everything seems set to change…
It seems odd that the programme has not done an epic two-part season opener until now, considering how well "The Impossible Astronaut" and "Day of the Moon" work. The roots of the story are clear- Christopher Nolan’s Memento and The X-Files amongst others. Despite this and the first American location shoot, the story remains Doctor Who to its very core. Moffat also introduces us to a very scary new race of monsters- The Silence, whose existence has been intimated since "The Eleventh Hour"- indeed, I wouldn’t be too surprised if there was more to “Silence in the Library” than meets the eye (to coin a phrase). Like the Weeping Angels, the Silence challenge subjective idealism- the Weeping Angels can only move when they are not observed. The Silence can only be remembered when they are observed- in a way that would make Berkeley run screaming back to Kilkenny. As with "Forest of the Dead", Moffat uses the very structure of visual storytelling to emphasise this. The markings on Amy’s face increase in number with every progressive shot. Scenes progress to the punchline while missing the setup. More than any other story so far, there are gaps in the narrative- the brilliant cliffhanger to "The Impossible Astronaut" is only resolved well into "Day of the Moon" in a rather indirect fashion. We are never told on screen why the Doctor is imprisoned and his companions hunted. We don’t need to, however, because it should be obvious by the end. Moffat realises something that some less imaginative observers of the programme have either forgotten or never realised- that children like gaps that they can guess or fill in themselves. Indeed, as a youngster, I would create my own version of the next episode before I actually saw it- one should never underestimate the imagination of a child.
This is not to say that the story is inaccessible- it still engages, helped by many great lines ranging from the funny to the poignant- River realising that the most important man in her life is slipping away from her is very effectively brought out. The 1969 setting is used to great effect and Nixon gets a very fair hearing- it is becoming increasingly clear that it was not that he did what he did, but that he was caught doing it that damned him. This gives a clear framework to the unsettling mood and prevents the story becoming too inaccessible. The threat of the Silence is conveyed excellently and the Doctor’s solution is simple, yet ingenious, as his best plans usually are. There are a good many questions unanswered at the end, but I doubt if they will remain so.
As said before, the show shoots for the first time in yer-actual US of A, and the stunning locations available in the country are brilliantly utilised. Toby Haynes shoots with epic flair, but does equal justice to the creepy, funny and intimate scenes and, crucially, the discontinuities that Moffat’s script demands. He is backed by a stunning show from the entire production team. The filming in the awesome Valley of the Gods is breath-taking and the special effects are fantastic. The Silence are very effectively realised with a mix of prosthetics and CGI adding to their impact as one of the most effective of monster races.
The performances are first rate- Mark Sheppard is brilliant as Canton, and Stuart Milligan is a pleasant surprise as Nixon- thankfully he isn’t too overwhelmed by prosthetics. Matt Smith continues his masterful tenure in the title role and Karen Gillan and Arthur Darvill continue to impress. Alex Kingston remains utterly electrifying as River Song and I can’t wait to see her return.
The story ends with the little girl on the streets of New York dying, and subsequently regenerating. Steven Moffat is definitely committed to taking his version of the programme into a totally different direction from RTD’s vision. We have, perhaps, been made too comfortable, and whatever happens, I’m sure it will be worth it.
NEXT: "The Curse of the Black Spot"
Showing posts with label Toby Haynes. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Toby Haynes. Show all posts
Saturday, 7 May 2011
Friday, 21 January 2011
"A Christmas Carol"
Our sixth Christmas with the Time Lord is the first to be helmed by Steven Moffat. In keeping with his view of the programme as a ‘dark fairytale’, we have him doing a version of the most famous Christmas story since the first one. As I said a year ago, Victorian Christmases seem to be the most Christmassy of all, and a lot of this is due to the fact that the festival (as the Anglophone world knows it) was a product of the Victorian era and Charles Dickens’s reading of it in particular. Of course, the use of Dickens’s novella has to be a conscious reference- the Doctor has met Dickens after all- but Moffat has to take this very familiar story and make it seem fresh. Does he succeed? Well...
A (typically) awesome pre-titles sequence brings up to speed. The ship that Amy and Rory are honeymooning on is diving into the deadly atmosphere of a human colonial planet. The ship will crash, killing all 4,003 people on board. The only person who can save them is Kazran Sardick, the man who can tame the sky with the machine that his father built and he, alone, can operate. However, this power has given Sardick complete control over the planet and it is clear from the start which part in the story Sardick plays, for he is, to coin a phrase, a squeezing, wrenching, grasping, scraping, clutching, covetous old sinner. The Doctor has to convince Sardick to turn the machine on. He could, of course, do that by defeating him as he has done with scores of enemies in the past, but a moment of restraint and mercy convinces the Doctor that there is something more to Sardick. Scrooge was not beyond redemption, after all and so the Doctor must save the day by making Sardick a better person. To do this, he changes Sardick’s past intertwining his life with the life of someone who was just a frozen face and a recorded message- Abigail Pettigrew.
The Christmassy vibe is stronger than it has ever been before, but, as with Dickens, it is the redemption of the character that is at the heart of the story. Like Scrooge, Kazran’s lack of empathy is rooted in the pain of the past. To start with, it is his wholly unloving relationship with his father, but the Doctor gives him someone else to love, in the shape of Abigail. There follow a wonderful sequence of Christmas Eves and it seems that Kazran’s heart warms- only for it to be broken and for bitterness to join coldness in the adult Sardick. Amy, as the ghost of Christmas Present, tries to appeal to his better nature by showing him the faces of those he will allow to die. Sardick is closed to all salvation and is resigned to dying afraid and alone- until Christmas Yet-to-Come shows him the ultimate vision. Such a clever reinterpretation of Dickens would not have worked had Moffat not understood the meaning of the original work so thoroughly. The dialogue practically sings ’In nine hundred years of time and space I've never met anybody who wasn't important.’ The world which he builds is intoxicating- a planet where fish swim in the air, ranging from minnows gently nibbling at your ear, to sharks who will have you arm off, and where face spiders hide in the bedrooms of children.
Moffat’s script is expertly realised by Toby Haynes, lending an awesome sweep to the cityscapes and cloudscapes, but making the scenes in the young Kazran’s bedroom the irresistible blend of danger and intrigue that children love. Haynes invokes the spirit of A Christmas Carol, but is not afraid to invoke other things, from the not-very-subtle, yet joyous Jaws references, to the wonderful shot of the Doctor standing outside the teenage Kazran’s window, waiting to be invited in, which screams Peter Pan. We are so buoyed up by the spirit of the thing that nothing seems ridiculous or out of place- when a sleigh is pulled across the night sky by a shark, we are lost in wonder, not incredulity. The performances are perfect and, as expected, the fantastic Sir Michael Gambon is fantastic as Sardick, showing the coldness, amorality and the warmth that leads to the redemption of the character perfectly. In many ways, Sardick is as much the lead as the Doctor and it is good that the actors playing his childhood and teenage self (Laurence Belcher and Danny Horn respectively) are so good. As Abigail, we have Welsh mezzo-soprano Katherine Jenkins. She is well up to portraying the role and when her beautiful voice soars, accompanied by Murray Gold’s wonderful score, the effect is magical. Amy and Rory are sidelined, somewhat, so it is up to Matt Smith to carry the show with Gambon and when the two of them are together, the effect is electrifying. It is testament to his success in the role that I cannot imagine David Tennant in this story. The Doctor is not just the Christmas Ghosts to Kazran, he is ‘the Raggedy Doctor’, ‘The Fireplace Man’, but in a way that does not seem like a repetition of Moffat's themes.
I am not sure, but this magical hour of television could be my favourite Christmas with Doctor Who yet, another piece of fantastic festive fare from Cardiff!
NEXT: "Space"/"Time"
A (typically) awesome pre-titles sequence brings up to speed. The ship that Amy and Rory are honeymooning on is diving into the deadly atmosphere of a human colonial planet. The ship will crash, killing all 4,003 people on board. The only person who can save them is Kazran Sardick, the man who can tame the sky with the machine that his father built and he, alone, can operate. However, this power has given Sardick complete control over the planet and it is clear from the start which part in the story Sardick plays, for he is, to coin a phrase, a squeezing, wrenching, grasping, scraping, clutching, covetous old sinner. The Doctor has to convince Sardick to turn the machine on. He could, of course, do that by defeating him as he has done with scores of enemies in the past, but a moment of restraint and mercy convinces the Doctor that there is something more to Sardick. Scrooge was not beyond redemption, after all and so the Doctor must save the day by making Sardick a better person. To do this, he changes Sardick’s past intertwining his life with the life of someone who was just a frozen face and a recorded message- Abigail Pettigrew.
The Christmassy vibe is stronger than it has ever been before, but, as with Dickens, it is the redemption of the character that is at the heart of the story. Like Scrooge, Kazran’s lack of empathy is rooted in the pain of the past. To start with, it is his wholly unloving relationship with his father, but the Doctor gives him someone else to love, in the shape of Abigail. There follow a wonderful sequence of Christmas Eves and it seems that Kazran’s heart warms- only for it to be broken and for bitterness to join coldness in the adult Sardick. Amy, as the ghost of Christmas Present, tries to appeal to his better nature by showing him the faces of those he will allow to die. Sardick is closed to all salvation and is resigned to dying afraid and alone- until Christmas Yet-to-Come shows him the ultimate vision. Such a clever reinterpretation of Dickens would not have worked had Moffat not understood the meaning of the original work so thoroughly. The dialogue practically sings ’In nine hundred years of time and space I've never met anybody who wasn't important.’ The world which he builds is intoxicating- a planet where fish swim in the air, ranging from minnows gently nibbling at your ear, to sharks who will have you arm off, and where face spiders hide in the bedrooms of children.
Moffat’s script is expertly realised by Toby Haynes, lending an awesome sweep to the cityscapes and cloudscapes, but making the scenes in the young Kazran’s bedroom the irresistible blend of danger and intrigue that children love. Haynes invokes the spirit of A Christmas Carol, but is not afraid to invoke other things, from the not-very-subtle, yet joyous Jaws references, to the wonderful shot of the Doctor standing outside the teenage Kazran’s window, waiting to be invited in, which screams Peter Pan. We are so buoyed up by the spirit of the thing that nothing seems ridiculous or out of place- when a sleigh is pulled across the night sky by a shark, we are lost in wonder, not incredulity. The performances are perfect and, as expected, the fantastic Sir Michael Gambon is fantastic as Sardick, showing the coldness, amorality and the warmth that leads to the redemption of the character perfectly. In many ways, Sardick is as much the lead as the Doctor and it is good that the actors playing his childhood and teenage self (Laurence Belcher and Danny Horn respectively) are so good. As Abigail, we have Welsh mezzo-soprano Katherine Jenkins. She is well up to portraying the role and when her beautiful voice soars, accompanied by Murray Gold’s wonderful score, the effect is magical. Amy and Rory are sidelined, somewhat, so it is up to Matt Smith to carry the show with Gambon and when the two of them are together, the effect is electrifying. It is testament to his success in the role that I cannot imagine David Tennant in this story. The Doctor is not just the Christmas Ghosts to Kazran, he is ‘the Raggedy Doctor’, ‘The Fireplace Man’, but in a way that does not seem like a repetition of Moffat's themes.
I am not sure, but this magical hour of television could be my favourite Christmas with Doctor Who yet, another piece of fantastic festive fare from Cardiff!
NEXT: "Space"/"Time"
Friday, 2 July 2010
"The Pandorica Opens"/"The Big Bang"
Ever since Steven Moffat was announced as showrunner, speculation was rife as to how he would continue to tell this story of a madman with a box. One subject that would crop up in discussion, is what a Moffat finale would be like- a trip into disquieting horror, a fiendishly clever puzzle-box of a plot, a spectacular showdown. What we got was better, even than this- a story that emphasises why the new teams in front of and behind the cameras are well up to the task, proving that they can forge their own style whilst still making the same programme that we know and love.
Moffat immediately grabs our attention with a dazzling opening that brings back many of the guest stars of the season making it probably the most star-studded eight minutes in British television history. From throughout human history the warning comes: the Pandorica is opening, the TARDIS will explode. The Pandorica is located underneath Stonehenge, which is being guarded by a Roman legion, with one very familiar centurion. When we find out that the Pandorica holds the most feared being in all the cosmos, it was obvious who the only candidate would be, even before the Doctor describes it, ‘soaked in the blood of a billion galaxies... One day it would just drop out of the sky and tear down your world.’ The Pandorica is a prison, but it hasn’t taken delivery of the prisoner yet- the Daleks, the Cybermen, the Nestene, the Sontarans and all the others have come to the same conclusion- the Doctor will destroy the Universe and the only way to stop him is to imprison him for all eternity. the Roman soldiers, including Rory, are Nestene duplicates and as Rory and Amy tearfully reunite, his Auton body kills her. The Pandorica opens, the Pandorica closes. However, the TARDIS has already gone critical and as Rory cradles the body of his beloved, the stars explode as the Earth swims alone in emptiness. The plot for "The Big Bang" seems obvious- resurrect Amy and rescue the Doctor, which is indeed what we get- in the first ten minutes for, as we have come to expect, Moffat makes the second part start slightly askew. We are presented with a reality where the universe consists of the Earth and little else, where penguins lived on the Nile and the orb in the sky is the TARDIS exploding. The Doctor breaks all the rules in this diminished reality to save his friends and take the Pandorica into the TARDIS so that he can restart the Universe.
These are some of the things that happen in the story. It is not, however, what it is about. It is a story about the memories that form our personal pasts. It is about how events do not make history on their own, but rely on how those events are recorded and told. It is about an imaginary friend being as important as a real person. It is a story about stories. The stories that the episodes tell are what bind the narrative together- the Myth of the Pandorica, the Legend of the Centurion, the Rageddy Doctor. Moffat’s writing is sublime with wonderful dialogue- ‘We’re all stories in the end. Just make it a good one, eh?’ and even a cheeky steal from Robin of Sherwood. There are still good jokes, such as the Doctor’s brief fez-wearing phase, but the drama is there in a tale of friendship, love and self-sacrifice. The plot is complex, but fortified with emotion. Many people criticised RTD’s ways of ending his stories (wrongly, in my opinion) and I would like to think that this is the reason why the resolution of the story is via the biggest reset button the programme has ever done. However, as anyone who really understands fiction knows, there are no inherently bad plot devices, just bad uses of them, and Moffat shows that the reset button can make for great drama, if the story is good enough. The stories are all channelled by Amelia Pond to save reality as we know it, and it is a simple cliché which saves the universe- ‘something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue.’ In a joyous moment, Amy’s imaginary friend arrives at her wedding. It was probably inevitable- a cosmos without The Doctor scarcely bears thinking about- but the sheer wonder of the moment is overpowering. Moffat wanted to make Doctor Who as a dark fairy tale- he succeeds admirably.
Calling the shots immaculately is Toby Haynes who gives the story a suitably epic feel. There are almost too many memorable scenes to list, but special mention must be given to possibly the greatest scene involving a Cyberman, that channels Indiana Jones, The Thing and Evil Dead 2 to great effect. There are also the spectacular scenes of the spaceships over Stonehenge, the Dalek begging River for mercy, the beautiful unlocking of the Pandorica. The quieter moments are also expertly handled with the help of a fantastic cast. We have startling performances from Arthur Darvill (who makes a triumphant and very welcome return) and (as expected) Alex Kingston, as well as the return of the adorable Caitlin Blackwood, but it is the regulars who stand out most. Karen Gillan is front and centre for many scenes and she attacks them with relish. As for our leading man- wow. Whether running around with a fez and a mop or bellowing at several fleets of spacecraft, Matt commands our attention throughout. The quiet scenes show him at his best, investing them with great power- when he says to Amy that she will not need her imaginary friend when she had her family, I very nearly cried (but obviously, I didn’t. I am a man, after all). This is one of the greatest performances in the role to date and I hope that all the naysayers are silenced.
The Moffat era has started in fine form with an excellent season. Unexpectedly, although the cracks have closed, the mystery of the Silence- and who is responsible for taking over the TARDIS- are questions still unanswered, not to mention the truth about River. The next series can’t come fast enough.
NEXT: "A Christmas Carol"
Moffat immediately grabs our attention with a dazzling opening that brings back many of the guest stars of the season making it probably the most star-studded eight minutes in British television history. From throughout human history the warning comes: the Pandorica is opening, the TARDIS will explode. The Pandorica is located underneath Stonehenge, which is being guarded by a Roman legion, with one very familiar centurion. When we find out that the Pandorica holds the most feared being in all the cosmos, it was obvious who the only candidate would be, even before the Doctor describes it, ‘soaked in the blood of a billion galaxies... One day it would just drop out of the sky and tear down your world.’ The Pandorica is a prison, but it hasn’t taken delivery of the prisoner yet- the Daleks, the Cybermen, the Nestene, the Sontarans and all the others have come to the same conclusion- the Doctor will destroy the Universe and the only way to stop him is to imprison him for all eternity. the Roman soldiers, including Rory, are Nestene duplicates and as Rory and Amy tearfully reunite, his Auton body kills her. The Pandorica opens, the Pandorica closes. However, the TARDIS has already gone critical and as Rory cradles the body of his beloved, the stars explode as the Earth swims alone in emptiness. The plot for "The Big Bang" seems obvious- resurrect Amy and rescue the Doctor, which is indeed what we get- in the first ten minutes for, as we have come to expect, Moffat makes the second part start slightly askew. We are presented with a reality where the universe consists of the Earth and little else, where penguins lived on the Nile and the orb in the sky is the TARDIS exploding. The Doctor breaks all the rules in this diminished reality to save his friends and take the Pandorica into the TARDIS so that he can restart the Universe.
These are some of the things that happen in the story. It is not, however, what it is about. It is a story about the memories that form our personal pasts. It is about how events do not make history on their own, but rely on how those events are recorded and told. It is about an imaginary friend being as important as a real person. It is a story about stories. The stories that the episodes tell are what bind the narrative together- the Myth of the Pandorica, the Legend of the Centurion, the Rageddy Doctor. Moffat’s writing is sublime with wonderful dialogue- ‘We’re all stories in the end. Just make it a good one, eh?’ and even a cheeky steal from Robin of Sherwood. There are still good jokes, such as the Doctor’s brief fez-wearing phase, but the drama is there in a tale of friendship, love and self-sacrifice. The plot is complex, but fortified with emotion. Many people criticised RTD’s ways of ending his stories (wrongly, in my opinion) and I would like to think that this is the reason why the resolution of the story is via the biggest reset button the programme has ever done. However, as anyone who really understands fiction knows, there are no inherently bad plot devices, just bad uses of them, and Moffat shows that the reset button can make for great drama, if the story is good enough. The stories are all channelled by Amelia Pond to save reality as we know it, and it is a simple cliché which saves the universe- ‘something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue.’ In a joyous moment, Amy’s imaginary friend arrives at her wedding. It was probably inevitable- a cosmos without The Doctor scarcely bears thinking about- but the sheer wonder of the moment is overpowering. Moffat wanted to make Doctor Who as a dark fairy tale- he succeeds admirably.
Calling the shots immaculately is Toby Haynes who gives the story a suitably epic feel. There are almost too many memorable scenes to list, but special mention must be given to possibly the greatest scene involving a Cyberman, that channels Indiana Jones, The Thing and Evil Dead 2 to great effect. There are also the spectacular scenes of the spaceships over Stonehenge, the Dalek begging River for mercy, the beautiful unlocking of the Pandorica. The quieter moments are also expertly handled with the help of a fantastic cast. We have startling performances from Arthur Darvill (who makes a triumphant and very welcome return) and (as expected) Alex Kingston, as well as the return of the adorable Caitlin Blackwood, but it is the regulars who stand out most. Karen Gillan is front and centre for many scenes and she attacks them with relish. As for our leading man- wow. Whether running around with a fez and a mop or bellowing at several fleets of spacecraft, Matt commands our attention throughout. The quiet scenes show him at his best, investing them with great power- when he says to Amy that she will not need her imaginary friend when she had her family, I very nearly cried (but obviously, I didn’t. I am a man, after all). This is one of the greatest performances in the role to date and I hope that all the naysayers are silenced.
The Moffat era has started in fine form with an excellent season. Unexpectedly, although the cracks have closed, the mystery of the Silence- and who is responsible for taking over the TARDIS- are questions still unanswered, not to mention the truth about River. The next series can’t come fast enough.
NEXT: "A Christmas Carol"
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