I get it. I do. Steven Moffat explained some time ago why it is that Doctor Who doesn’t return the same time every year for the same number of episodes at the same time of a Saturday evening. He drew an analogy to that precious little bit of memorabilia that sits on a shelf somewhere, utterly beloved but so expected, so routine, that it’s no longer even visible anymore. I understand wanting to bring an event mindset to keep up anticipation and excitement, to help that precious thing be cherished again and again.

You can overdo anything. We’ve reached that point.

September, now, we’ll have to wait for series eight. For the first time ever, I can honestly say – I have other stuff to do now, and plenty of time to do it. I can afford to completely forget Doctor Who until it finally deigns to show its face again. And I doubt I’ll be excited when it does come back. Because, frankly, life has moved on.

You can only play this card so many times in a row before it becomes meaningless, Moffat. This fatigues me.

List Of Doctor Who Episodes Where Emotion Saves The Day

bracewellI’ve been out sick for a couple of days, but I’m back to find that By Strategy posted this List Of Doctor Who Episodes Where Emotion Saves The Day (Spoilers). (By the way, the spoilers include the recently aired Christmas special.) Strategy says that these indicate lazy writing. I don’t think so.

To me they look like Moffat is making a point, and he wouldn’t be the first showrunner to pick a point and make it over and over again. Just look. The point is: emotion is a good thing.

If you pay attention, you’ll catch him also making the point that it’s not good to let emotions run amok. I should probably make a list, but one immediate example is the Doctor’s fury in A Good Man Goes to War, what Vastra has to say about it and where it leads.

Moffat comes from a culture where people stuff their feelings and praise intellect. I come from a culture where, arguably, the reverse is the case. I think Moffat’s trying to show how these extremes are not good, that we need to value our aspects and balance them.

What do you think?

Matt Smith is Matt Smith

One of the things I just adore about Matt Smith is that when he’s not being the Doctor – or any other character – he’s being Matt Smith. Here’s someone who is just so completely himself, I can’t help but love it. Whenever I see him in interviews and clips from cons and stuff, he wins me over on his own delightful merits. That’s brilliant!

Aside: as an image junkie, I don’t like it when people take promotional pictures for various actors and stick them into story settings to pass them off as whatever character they played in that setting. Here’s an example pertinent to Matt:

This is not Matt playing the Doctor. This is Matt doing whatever he was doing at the time – I don’t even know if he’s in a character here or doing a modeling shot or what. It’s not about costume or makeup; otherwise we wouldn’t be able to recognize the Doctor when he’s wearing something else. It’s about acting.

Acting isn’t about saying words and doing actions. It’s about being someone else for awhile, and there’s a whole ball of stuff involved in that. Mannerisms, hangups, psychological stuff. A test of a really good actor, to me, is to take a picture of someone in character and someone out. The pictures should be different. If they’re not, they’re doing it wrong.

Wow, my aside took over the whole post. Back to the point, what made me think about Matt Smith being himself is this Q&A from MCM’s London Comic Con:

Is Doctor Who a Religion?

I put off watching this for ten days after I first saw it posted, because I thought it was going to be silly. It’s not. It’s rather interesting and something to think about.

My answer: no. It’s not a religion, but it can definitely compliment whatever religion you’ve got, if you let it.

All of Time and Space

In one of the specials recently aired on BBC America, someone mentioned that if the Doctor asked him where they should go, he would not have an answer, not knowing what’s available. On the menu, as it were. I’ve noticed myself that the Doctor asks it of each new companion but they don’t ever have an answer. I may not know what exists to choose from, but I know what I’d ask for. Here’s my list of possibilities, so far:

  • I want to meet the kindest people and the silliest people and the most artistic people.
  • I want to see what hydrogen breathers do for sports and recreation.
  • I want to see the biggest waterfall ever. Doesn’t necessarily have to be water.
  • I want to watch the most beautiful peace in the universe being forged at the end of bitter war.
  • I want to meet people made of crystal.
  • I want to learn a handcraft developed by people who have fewer fingers than I do.
  • I want to visit a restaurant staffed by non-human chefs who nevertheless have expert knowledge on what we can and cannot eat, whose alien frame of reference will introduce me to flavors I cannot at all imagine, without poisoning me.
  • I want to safely witness a supernova.
  • I want to visit free-floating colonies in space, some human and some not and some with mixtures of races.
  • I want to meditate with sentient trees.
  • I want to see the insides of hollow planets.
  • I want to follow a flock of migratory deep-space lifeforms.
  • I want to teach rock-paper-scissors to alien children.
  • I want to teach the chicken dance to giant spiders.
  • I want to learn religious ceremonies of people whose concept of religion might be impossible for an ape like me to grasp.
  • I want to meet every kind of people that people might be.

I can’t imagine everything, but I can imagine a start. As long as there’s a start, one thing leads to another. As Bilbo Baggins once said, it’s a dangerous business, going out your front door. He warns that the door leads to the path, the path to the gate, the gate to the road, and on and on. I have always felt that to be true, which is why I never settle down, but only pause for a bit, in a place for a time. It goes on and on.

Imagine it. All of time and space. All you need is a start.