With doubt cast over the future of Doctor Who after the announcement that Matt Smith is leaving his role as the titular time-traveller, Leah Devaney questions whether the format can ever regain its original freshness.
You may ask me why I see myself as qualified to talk about and judge a TV show with such a rich and formidable history as Doctor Who.
With the exception of a handful of Tom Baker episodes and the Paul McGann film, I came to the 2005 revival with absolutely no expectations.
Of course I was aware of what it was, but as far as I was concerned my parents’ generation spent their childhoods scared of tinfoil monsters and giant pepper shakers that were beaten by a bit of shagpile carpet.
My obsession began thanks to Russell T Davies and his genius reincarnation of a franchise that had basically died a slow, painful and public death a decade earlier.
Yes, the alien planets still looked suspiciously like a quarry in South Wales and despite all the special effects the twenty-first century has to offer you could practically see the string and staples holding the entire thing together.
None of that mattered when, at its heart Doctor Who again became a classic human interest story about love, loss, hope and grief… with a little time travel thrown in for good measure.
Doctor Who is still basically the same, but somehow it’s all gone sour.
Matt Smith should’ve been a no brainer because generally he’s brilliant (seriously, with both Matt Smith and Andrew Buchanan how was I the only person ever to watch Party Animals?!) but after the mighty talents of his predecessors he just didn’t measure up.
I’m not much of a crier but in its seven year reincarnation Doctor Who has made me weep like a little girl twice. The first time was the fateful Christmas of 2009, when David Tennant’s Doctor uttered the heart wrenching words “I don’t want to go” and an entire generation suffered an emotional breakdown.
The second time was this Christmas, but these were no tears of sorrow. No, as 2012 came to an end I cried in joy and relief because finally, after three long, painful and bitter years Amy Pond had done the decent thing and died.
Up until this point its beauty was always in its subtlety and simplicity; bad wolf, Torchwood, Harold Saxon, the Doctor Donna, “there’s something on your back”, “he will knock four times” were all story arcs you kicked yourself for not getting sooner.
The Pandorica and the Impossible Astronaut however are ridiculously complicated yarns which I still can’t get my head around. Doctor Who had become as complex as Inception and nowhere near as fun.
There are, however, three little words which have lit a glimmer of hope for its future in my heart. They are Hurt, Tennant, and Piper, and between them they mark everything that Steven Moffat is doing right with the anniversary of Doctor Who’s half century.
The news of what’s in store practically made me wet myself in excitement, but unfortunately it’s not forever. When the credits have rolled on November 23rd, after the tears have dried and we’ve all recovered from the most exciting thing that will happen on TV in 2013, the question remains… will the continuation of Doctor Who be worth it?
Leah Devaney
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