Doctor Who: Alternative Seasons - Season 4A: When the Magic is Gone
This
is the fourth part of an ongoing look at Doctor Who as a whole. It also
tries to reframe stories to include audio stories and other media. More
details can be found here.
Season 4A: When the Magic is Gone
As I am writing this, I am already deep into the Second Doctor era. But to bridge the gap, I decided I should split this season into 2 parts. This time, we will focus on the end of a character that has become very special to me. And these "last days" of the Doctor do really deserve their own spotlight. While much smaller than otther, the stories in this batch really make this half-season feel like a new arc. And I think that's worth highlighting and exploring.
Also, in a fun development: I do books now. I have officially learned how to read :p. So expect some more book stories to show up in the future. But for now, here are the stories we will be covering:
• The Bonfires of the Vanities (Companion Chronicles 11.3)
• Falling (Short trips 7.5)
• Ten Little Aliens (PDA 53)
• The Crumbling Magician (Companion Chronicles 13.4)
• The Plague of Dreams (Companion Chronicles 11.4)
• The Tenth Planet (DW serials 4.02)
Overview
This season as a whole is a period of temporal grace. The Doctor on his last legs, but not ready to give in just yet. Holding off change as long as he can. Which is the same thing I was doing. I have grown to love this character. His ability to change and grow is unmatched for me. I have seen this Doctor grow more kind and heroic, while at the same time seeing his downfall as he struggled with his own new morality. I know I will likely love whatever comes next, but I can't help but feel that we will never get here again. Never explore a Doctor on so many levels. Over such a wide range of stories. Other Doctors might have an arc, but how many Doctors get tested for an entire season after their arc is done? How many others have to justify their world view over and over in entirely new circumstances? How many get 7 stories, dedicated entirely to pushing past the comfort zone of regeneration?
The Doctor we see here is already beyond help. His life is artificially stretched beyond it's limits. He's a dead man walking, but not ready to go. And no matter what other stories may tell you, I don't think he was ever ready to go. There's no "I'm ready" moment. The struggle never left. It's an overlap between actor and character, which makes for such an interesting exploration. The whole package is basically a long form tragedy and at its best moments it reaches some really dark places. Exploring how life can't always stay the same.
So let's look at the individual parts that make up this last hurrah. We might never see one like this again, so enjoy it while it lasts.
Reviews
The Smugglers
6/10
The Doctor discovers that Ben & Polly have entered his Tardis. While trying to get them home, he lands the Tardis in 17th century Cornwall. After exploring and meeting the locals, they get swept up in the plans of smugglers, who are trying to find lost treasure. Will our new team survive this encounter? Or will they soon be swimming with the fishes?
First things first, this story is missing. Which is sad, considering this is both a first and last story for our current cast. As it stands, there are a few options for experiencing this story. You could pick up the narrated soundtrack, the Target novel or the Loose Cannon recreation. You can’t go wrong with any of them, but I picked the Loose Cannon recreation, as I like to experience character introductions and departures in the most authentic way possible. We make due, I suppose.
Overall, I found the story of the smugglers to be rather dull. It’s a historical story, but it doesn’t really fall in either of the 2 “camps” of historical storytelling. It’s not really dramatic or comedic in any way. So it makes me kind of unsure what I’m supposed to get out of all this.
Don’t get me wrong, a story does not have to fit a certain mold. But a good story generally tries to get some emotion out of you. Make you laugh, make you cry. Anything. But I’m unsure what The Smugglers is actually going for. It has moments of levity, but it is never funny. It also has moments of tension, but it is never really dramatic. What does this story want me to feel?
Okay, that sounds a bit pretentious. My point is that I never really felt all that entertained in any way. I think a big part of it is the setting. The story goes for a lot of pirate stereotypes: A captain with a hook, a ragtag crew of criminals and a hidden treasure. But it never really commits to that aesthetic. Most of the story takes place on land. In a random 17th century village. Do you really want to see pirates hanging out on land?
Imagine last seasons’ “The Gunfighters”, but you get cowboys sailing ships. That would feel off, right? That’s the feeling I’m getting here. The land scenes take up so much time, while the actual pirate elements get pushed to the sidelines.
That wouldn’t really be a problem if there was something else that kept this story intriguing, but it’s kind of hollow otherwise. The storyline itself is pretty generic. The evil people want something, but get caught by the good guys. The end. Even the Doctor’s influence if pretty limited. He doesn’t really take part in anything, except for some self-preservation.
The same goes for Ben & Polly, but they at least have the excuse of being new. Their stuff is mostly about getting to terms with their new time-travelling life and their historic surroundings, which gives them a little bit more to do.
Their dynamic is also pretty great. They are a duo through and through. Their closest comparison would be Ian and Barbara, but Ben and Polly also carry a little bit more of that “young energy” that many of the later companions brought. They’re a bit of a middle ground.
Polly doesn’t get all that much to do except fiddle around and have fun. There’re serious moments, but the overall tone is pretty light for her. She dances with straw in a prison cell. I think that says it all.
Meanwhile Ben is a bit of a loudmouth. Steven and Ian might have thought before they threw a punch, but Ben feels like he’d only start thinking after hitting someone in the face. A bit of a short fuse, but in a fun and energetic way, which the show can definitely use.
Their energy together is also fun! It’s blatant flirting, but neither the audience nor the Doctor ever feel like third wheels. It’s playful in a way that’s fun to watch, but it never distracts from the story. It only adds more. I hope it stays that way.
Other than the character dynamics, ‘The Smugglers” doesn’t have much going for it. It’s a rather empty story without anything that really engages the audience. That doesn’t mean bad, just that it is quite bland. It’s like a slice of bread without butter. It still works, but you’re constantly wishing for something better. Which is a bit of a shame.
Before I round this off, however, I do want to share something I found in research. A little quote from director Julia Smith about the filming of this episode. Consider it a little tribute to our Doctor in his last complete TV adventure:
"I remember asking William Hartnell to cross to the TARDIS and press a particular button and he went raving mad: "I can't. If I do that, this'll happen to the TARDIS and that'll happen to the TARDIS!" And he gave me a quarter of an hour's dissertation of why he couldn't press that button. I stood there, very young and very nervous and took this broadside about the insanity of women drivers almost. It was obviously so real to him. He'd committed himself to the character and acquainted himself with all the machinery, which in those days was very much simpler than it is now".
The Bonfires of the Vanities
5/10
After landing on the North Pole, our party steps out to find themselves in… Lewes, 1950. There’s no time to think, however, as they quickly get swept up in the festivities of bonfire night. However, it seems not everyone is in a party mood….
This is a story that starts fairly well, but quickly dwindles into nothing. The settings starts strong, there’s some intrigue and some striking setpieces. One of the main locations, a library from the 1950’s, truly speaks to the imagination. Polly mentions how it feels weird to be in a library at night and I truly feel like I am there with them.
But when the plot takes hold, all the atmosphere kind of drains away. We quickly fall into a routine: Hooligans come to smash everything to pieces, the Doctor saves the day with a speech. They calm down and go away. Repeat 3 times, and the story is over.
And that repetition is what really kills this story. The beginning, middle and end are the exact same events. Rowdy people, speech, rowdy people, speech, rowdy people, speech, the end. Nothing excites or plays with your emotions.
But here’s where it gets odd. This adventure did get me hooked in an unexpected way. I didn’t get hooked on the mediocre story, but the interviews afterwards were notably striking.
McCormack describes her research going into this project. How she looked at Lewes as a city and noticed the history of the library there. She describes the history of bonfire night and how she never got to join in the celebration, since her father was a catholic. Her biggest experience was watching from the balcony with a glass of wine in her hand.
And her description of it all is incredibly vivid. I think everyone can, in some way, relate to the feeling of a festival by night. The cold air sweeps around you, yet you feel warm from all the festivities and the crowd. Yet as time goes on, more and more people go home. The cheers and laughter turn into murmurs, before finally growing silent. This goes on until you, too, decide to call it a day. It’s a striking scene, and what McCormack describes feels very similar. But it doesn’t show up at all in the main story.
Same goes for the history, I didn’t know what Bonfire night was, but the explanation makes it feel very real. But that explanation came after the actual story.
So why was this not actually in the adventure? If I’d hazard a guess, it is because of a lack of theming and misinterpreted expectations.
This story does not really have a clear focus. There’re loads of themes it could have tackled, both big and small: Bonfire night, Libraries at nighttime, celebrating festivals the wrong way, hooligan behavior, groupthink and greed are all topics that this story could’ve said something about, but it plays it very safe.
It clings to the self-imposed limitations of Doctor Who. We have to be constantly on edge. We have to have speeches and aliens. We have to have that happy ending. It hides behind these superficial “Doctor Who Elements” and drowns out original concepts.
And there’s really no reason to do that. If you’re alien concept is so vague that it doesn’t even have a name, I’d rather focus on the interesting stuff. Stories have done perfectly fine without relying on aliens. Especially when we’re with such an early Doctor. Look at a story like “Farewell, Great Macedon”. It has no outside threat, barely any pressure and 1 speech, which isn’t even given by the Doctor. Yet it is considered one of the best stories this Doctor has ever had. Good things come when you see opportunities instead of limitations. It is okay to just write something atmospheric.
Which brings me to the last thing I want to mention: the character of Mary. Mary is the librarian in this story. She is described as a middle-aged lady with a love of books who has, in a surprising twist, even written some science fiction books herself. The character is clearly a bit of a self-insert for McCormack, which I have absolutely no problem with.
But imagine if Mary had taken a bit more from her writer. Imagine if she, too, had a complicated history with Bonfire night. Imagine she knew all the things McCormack describes in the interview. She would have been an incredibly layered character that people would’ve loved, instead of another one of the “friends” we come across and leave behind without a second thought.
I genuinely think this story had a lot of potential. It could’ve been a great atmospheric piece. The knowledge to make it so was definitely present, but it feels caged by preconceived ideas of “proper Doctor Who”. As it is now, it is nothing more than another one in the pile, but if it had truly followed that initial bit of passion, it could’ve been a masterpiece.
Falling
6/10
Long after their travels, Ben and Polly Jackson are planning to move into a new home. While packing, Polly comes across a weird green feather, which makes her think back on an adventure from long ago. The time they met an angel.
This story has very little conflict or plot. Instead, it decides to spend all its time on character exploration.
Now, to me, character is more important than anything. Which is why I’ve generally been in love with this era of the show. The problem in this story, however, is that the exploration doesn’t really lead to new insights. Nothing new is discovered.
As the Doctor, Ben and Polly fly through the vortex, they hit a mysterious craft. After an emergency landing, they discover that they’ve hit an angel-looking creature that is apparently part of a nursery rhyme from the Doctor’s youth. Using his infinite knowledge of time, he analyzes both the Doctor and his companions.
There’s no real reason for him doing this, by the way. He’s trying to convince them he is actually the mythical creature from the nursery rhymes, but the actual connection between his mythical origins and this character deep dive is never explained.
The contents of the deep dive aren’t all that spectacular either. Not except for some cheap fan service. The angel sneakily mentions that Ben and Polly will fall in love and that Ben should show is sensitive side more. As for the Doctor, the angel tells us that he is frail and worn out, which is nothing new. He also mentions that the Doctor will one day be the last of his kind and that he will soon have to change. I don’t think any of these revelations will shock anyone.
Yet it is close to getting more. Instead of his pompous, usual reaction, the Doctor actually feels conflicted. He doesn’t put his thumbs on his lapels, but instead looks downward, like a child that just got punished.
Now that’s interesting! The Doctor presents a negative emotion to his “adversary”. Is he mad? Afraid? We don’t know. And I wish the story went a little deeper here. Let the Doctor vocalize his internal struggles. Let him show that weakness. Let us know that, at the end of this life, the Doctor has grown beyond his façade. But sadly, this is where the story stops, and it feels like it quits one step before the finish line.
After these character moments are done, the Doctor sets the angel free by performing the old nursery rhyme. We don’t hear the rhyme ourselves, but instead have to make due with a description of the performance. This definitely adds to the mysticism, but at the same time, it also feels like the story is, once again, too afraid to actually say anything. Our party moves back into the Tardis and flies off.
I’m conflicted by this story, because it really feels like it is going somewhere. And when it nears its destination, it slams the breaks and goes backwards. It throws some obvious references your way, like a relationship or the Time War, in the hopes that those will distract you from the lack of depth.
I would have preferred it if the story actually kept digging a little longer, because it is clear it understands who these characters are. A little deeper, and we might have found new layers which would really be worth discussing, but the story chickens out every chance it gets. Which disappoints me.
“Falling” is a story that builds itself on character, yet when it gets the chance to explore its characters, it does nothing. We get no real emotional reaction from the Doctor. We get no nursery rhyme. We get mentions and have to make due. It’s a squandered opportunity, which is a massive shame.
Ten Little Aliens
8.5/10
Our party lands on small comet in the far future. Soon they meet up with a crew of human Space Marines, who are on a training mission. However, when these marines come across the corpses of their sworn enemies, this training mission might be more difficult than they first expected.
This story is way grimmer than the other stories up till now. Death is common. The space marines are battered and wounded before the story even starts. Blood, corpses and body horror fill the entire book with barely a hopeful sentence to break the tension.
And yet, this still works as a Doctor Who story. Why? Because the Doctor and his companions are written perfectly. They feel completely in character. These comparatively innocent characters are dropped in the darkness, but that doesn’t mean they act like different people. The Doctor is still tired, but holding on. Every line Ben says feels like him. And, while a little worse off than the other two, Polly still feels like her kind and hopeful self.
It really is a matter of balance. Constant darkness rules this book, but the Doctor, Ben and Polly are like a little light that won’t be dimmed. You know they will do what they always do: Save the day. And they even manage to spread a little bit of that hope to their fellow travellers.
The Space marines are well defined characters in their own right. The story starts us off before the mission, so we get plenty of time to see them interact with each other. We know what bonds are between them. So when the horrors take place, we know they take it personally.
Don’t get me wrong, they’re not all good friends, but they have a dynamic between them that works for the mission. Some trust each other blindly, some are loyal to their commander, some are outsiders. They take this dynamic with them on their mission. During all the tension we see walls between them break down, while other walls raise up. It’s very well done.
But, while all the characters work, I can’t say the same for the main plot. It is plenty strong, but it sometimes feels like things don’t land as hard as they should. For example, the main mystery. Shortly after arriving, our combined group finds the bodies of 10 leaders from an opposing faction in a glass prison. Yet throughout the story, some bodies disappear from behind the glass. The story really tries to build up the tension with these disappearances, but I never felt like it mattered all that much. It never had a direct influence on the character’s chances of survival, so I wasn’t worried.
The eventual revelations about their escape didn’t work for me either. It is some technobabble about time glass that I don’t really care for. The body horror was already in full swing at this point and that had more of my attention. And while one influences the other, the techno-babbly explanation never really made overall plan around these bodies all that clear, which was a bit of a bummer.
But overall, it all still works because of the cast. The individual story beats are strong, just not always properly interwoven. Finishing this book feels like finally letting go of a breath you took weeks ago. Which is a compliment! All the tension is built brilliantly and I can forgive the stumbles it had at the end. Well worth your time.
The Crumbling Magician
10/10⭐
While in flight, the Tardis crashes into another force within the time stream. This leaves our party badly wounded. They wake up in a time-hospital, run by an AI called Continuity. This AI, however, is not as friendly as it might first appear…
There’s a lot of great stuff to talk about, but let’s start with our main cast. The hospital is a place for people who have wounds and illnesses related to time. Which, in our case, means Polly. The crash has caused Polly to experience timeslips, where she’ll randomly warp to other points within her recent timeline. These slips are very useful in the storytelling. We warp back to the crash, where we see what actually happened. We warp back to the near future, where we see Continuity’s true nature. And sometimes, we warp to the hallway, just so we can get some travel time out of the way. It’s an easy enough concept to get your head around, but it adds an element of uncertainty to the story, which I can appreciate.
Ben, meanwhile, got off pretty lightly in the crash and is back on his feet pretty quickly. However, before he can look for the others, he comes across a young boy called Allie Kay. Allie is in the hospital for a similar time-related accident. He did not get off well. A crash has caused the 8-year-old boy to rapidly age into an old man. Without knowing it, this young child is old enough to be someone’s grandfather. Ben quickly becomes very protective of him, which in turn makes him a real hero in Allie’s eyes.
And last but not least, we have the Doctor, who is in the worst state. He is unconscious while his old, aged body has taken yet another hit. While he’s healing, he’s not getting up anytime soon.
This might sound like a lot of exposition, but it is necessary to get the full picture. This entire situation is basically a chess match, with pieces spread across the board. And our AI is in charge.
Now, I know what you’re thinking. Evil AI, we know the drill. It tries to kill with everything around it. WOTAN, HAL 9000, yada yada yada. But it’s not that black and white. Continuity is not just another force fully set on killing. She’s a medical AI. Her programming is meant to save lives. She can’t just take out the scalpels and go to town, she has to follow very specific rules and routines. This makes her very manipulative, as she has to convince her patients that taking their lives is the best option. Basically trying to force them into euthanasia.
And while a bit grim, this works really well. The strict rules make for an interesting opponent. She harms Polly with a botched surgery that is “within the margin of error”. She shows young Allie his face. She angers Ben so he has to be sedated. It’s manipulative in a very precise way, which makes her stand out.
She even moves past the generic motivation for her actions. When confronted with the why of her actions, she mentions the generic “I see all information in the universe and people are bad”, but that is nothing more than a ruse. Her real reason is far more emotional. Her constant care for the injured, sick and depressed has hurt her. Why keep going if all those people die? Yet her programming does not allow her to kill herself, so she lashes out at her patients. It’s tragic, yet also clearly evil.
One of her moves leads to her downfall, however. In one of her manipulations, she transfers the Doctor’s consciousness to Polly’s body. Continuity has woken up the Doctor.
And I’ll be fair. I don’t fully know why she would do that. I can think of some reasons. Maybe the timeline forced her into it. It happened in the future, so she has to do it. Maybe she can’t harm him in any other way because his unconscious body can’t consent to any medical procedure. Maybe it’s just a cry for help from someone in need. In any case, she has just created her own greatest opponent.
Waking up the Doctor allows us for one more piece of character insight. The Doctor is now trapped in a young body. He is no longer burdened by his aging physique. This leads to some deep conversations between Continuity and the Doctor. She describes him as the titular “Crumbling magician”, the man who knows all the tricks, but can no longer preform them. She tries to lure him in: Would he not prefer keeping this young body? Would he not curse himself for going back to that aged prison? Is the life of one feeble human worth it?
This, right here, is where I feel the Doctor could go next. Lately, I’ve wondered what another First Doctor Season could’ve been like. What if Big Finish decided that this incarnation could do with another ride? And this is my answer. The Doctor is locked away in this aged husk, yet he would never give it up if it would harm others. Never cruel, even though cruel seems so appealing. The stories you could tell. But more about that in a little bit.
The Doctor eventually destroys Continuity after some brilliant conversations about hope, heroism and optimism. When it is time to leave, one big question remains: What will we do with Allie? Ben has promised he will care for him. He will help him and be his hero. It shows incredible character on his part. And so they leave with their new companion Allie on board. On to their next adventure.
And it is at this point I’ve come across something less pleasant. We’ve come across our first loose plot thread. Release-wise, this is the last First Doctor story in all of the Companion Chronicles. This leaves a bit of a bad aftertaste.
A continuation of any kind seems incredibly unlikely. Big Finish have shown no further interest in the Companion Chronicles, Elliot Chapman has stopped voice acting for Ben and David Warner, the voice of Allie, has sadly passed away. It seems that this is the end of this storyline.
Which is such a shame. The character work on display here is absolutely incredible. Some of the finest we’ve had up till now. I would not have minded a full range with this cast. I would’ve loved to discover what it could bring to the table. Maybe someone, somewhere, will one day pick up where this story left off. The beauty of Doctor Who is that nothing is ever off the table.
Until that point, however, we will just have to take this story for what it is: A masterpiece. A great setting, great villain and phenomenal exploration of our cast. An absolute must-listen.
The Plague of Dreams
7.8/10
Polly Wright wakes up on a stage floating in an empty void. With her is a strange man she doesn’t recognize. She soon realizes this stage is part of a bigger adventure. And when she and the stranger recount their adventure, the stage brings it to life….
I love the initial framing for this one. Polly and the strange man (commonly referred to as “the Player”) spend the entire story on this central stage. Performing for an empty void. As the story goes along, different sets and effects take shape around them. It gives the story a unique environment.
The goal here, as explained in the behind-the-scenes stuff, is to present it all as a form of Elizabethan theatre. Which is a good idea! As I’m not too familiar with the artform, I can’t give you too detailed an explanation of how well it succeeds.
From what I can gather, some basic characteristics from Elizabethan theatre are open stages, little actual décor and lots of costuming. There’s also the “no girls allowed” rule, but let’s skip past that for now.
The problem with these traits is that they’re all quite visual. How is a purely auditory medium going to present it accurately?
The result is mixed. Costuming is not represented at all, while the decor is represented by being mentioned a lot. Multiple references are made to the stage looking crummy or cheap. Which does make it clear that there is in fact a set, but doesn’t add much else.
At a certain point, the story does away with sets entirely by introducing the idea of “belief in the story”. The more Polly believes something exists, the more realistic the staging will be. I’m sort of split on that decision. I would’ve liked it if it had stayed an actual, full stageplay. But at the same time, I have to admit it does add some stakes to a presentation that is already fighting an uphill battle within its medium.
There is, however, also one characteristic that comes across very clearly, which is the openness of the stage. The lack of music and slight echo really makes it feel like we’re on a bunch of planks, floating in a void. There’s an odd sense of pressure to it all, even if there’s nothing there. Every time there’s a pause between sentences, you can almost feel that void creeping in.
But aside from presentation, this story also has a lot to offer in its narrative. Especially its ending might turn out to be a bit controversial. Let’s look at it in a bit more detail.
At the end of the story, something becomes clear about the Player. He’s not just some random bloke with a theatre of the mind. He is a time lord. A time lord from the time war. He’s there, because the daleks are trying to invade the Doctor’s timeline and stop him early on.
The Doctor was supposed to be at the North Pole after the events of “The Smugglers”. However, all the outside interference has expanded his lease on life. Letting him explore the universe a little longer, even though is body is long worn out. This time however, time is truly up. The ending is in sight. One last choice remains: Will the Doctor give up, or keep struggling?
Now, you probably feel one of 2 ways about this plot decision. Either you love the connecting lore, or you think it is fanwanky and unnecessary. I’ll leave that part up to you. What I do take issue with, however, is the element of choice in the Doctor’s fate.
At the end of the story, The Doctor is given the choice to face his inevitable change or keep struggling and hanging on. The more I think about this, the less I like it. This is because it presents both options as equal. As the Doctor having a hand in what is awaiting him.
And in that sense it kind of clashes with the other stories in this half-season. Every other story presents the Doctor as hanging on to fleeting times. Trying to be something he can’t physically be anymore. It is a showing of desperation, rather than choice. And, to look ahead a little bit, it is the same attitude the next and final story for this Doctor will have.
Don’t get me wrong though. I am not against new ideas. And I don’t think every story has to perfectly match the previous ones. But I think adding a choice kind of sours the inevitability of fate that the end of this doctor centers around. Both the actor and the character want to keep going, but they can’t. There’s a sad beauty in that, which I prefer.
Overall, I admire the “The Plague of Dreams” for its ambition. It is not afraid to try something entirely out of the box, even if that results in some debatable choices. It is not perfect, but it tries on every level. Which makes this truly a story to form you own opinion on. Have a listen and see where you land!
The Tenth Planet
10/10 ⭐
The Tenth Planet is a story that logically shouldn’t work.
Think about it for a second. It is a story entirely set within a very, very small base. Its main character doesn’t show up for half of the episodes. None of the main characters have an influence on the events that take place. And all the while this is supposed to be a sort of soft reboot for the program! That’s madness!
Yet it has become one of the most mythologized pieces of Doctor Who history. A milestone for its further success. How did that happen?
Our party lands on the North Pole, where they soon come across a small underground base made to trace the trajectory of rockets and space stations. Problems arise, however, when the base loses contact with one of their rockets. On top of that, they discover a new planet in our own solar system. And its inhabitants are on their way…
Those “inhabitants” are the now iconic cybermen. Showing up for the first time. Their original look has gotten a lot of praise in recent years and it is easy to see why. Their depiction of a human race that has destroyed themselves shows in every little detail. When they talk, they sometimes stretch out vowels, which makes you feel like they have a lobotomized brain. When you see their human hands or spot an eye, it doesn’t feel like not a budget constraint, but a glimpse at what they once were. It all adds up to an eerily familiar creature that feels uncanny in an oddly familiar way.
They are an obvious highlight, which is kind of surprising because it is mostly on principle. Their mythology carries them through the story. On screen, they mostly do the standard monster behavior. Be threatening, shoot stuff. But their background gives you an image of a society that completely imploded on a planetary scale. And now that awful planet is bringing its ideals to earth. In person no less.
The sense of dread the planet brings is further strengthened by the resolution. In the end, neither side has truly won. The cybermen may run on logic, but their lack of urgency destroys them. On the other side, General Cutler almost destroys the entire planet because he wants to save his son as quickly as possible. This eventually costs him his life. It promotes the idea of balance. Humans are both logical and emotional, and can’t succeed unless they accept both parts of themselves.
Maybe that’s me reading to deep into things. But I think that’s exactly why this story has its reputation. Its ambiguity allows for watchers to speculate. To think deeper about the subject matter presented. It makes you ask questions and think about things in a new light.
Hell, that even extends to the Doctor, who suddenly changes face as the credits roll. Maybe the already established sense of inquiry allowed viewers to accept the change a bit more readily? To be less judgmental as the status quo changes?
The Tenth Planet is a story that logically shouldn’t work. But luckily, it is a story that works on an emotional level. It uses a sense of dread, mystery and ambiguity to lodge itself into your brain. And once it has wormed its way in there, it might just make you a little bit more introspective. A message of growth hidden between the brain-butchering cybermen. What’s more human than that?
Conclusion
That does not mean we are done, however! The next Doctor is inbound and I've already dived in head first. So no worries. One day I shall come back. Yes, I shall come back. See you then :).
Art Sources:
https://flic.kr/p/28ZmzSZ
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