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Why We Watch...Doctor Who |
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Doctor Who has been going, far more off than on, since 1963. Lots of people loved the show in those earlier days and there was a name for those people. Fans. There was another name. Whovians. Or, if you preferred: total nerds.
That's just the way it was. You loved Doctor Who pre-2005, you were a nerd. You just got on with your life, remembering the name of the head Zygon (Broton) and playing with Tom Baker and Leela dolls without telling your friends.
Then the series came back, after a 16-year hiatus. Christopher Eccleston was the Doctor, Billie Piper was his companion, Rose, and they travelled time and space in a redesigned Tardis. The Daleks came too, beefier than before, their eyestalks suddenly glowing electric-blue. And the whole thing started all over again. But different. Very different.
Nowadays if you tell someone you're a Doctor Who fan, you don't have to do it from behind a cunning disguise then run away. Now if you tell someone you're a Doctor Who fan they think you're cool. Most likely, they'll start up a conversation with you about the show. You'll compare favourite aliens, argue Eccleston versus David Tennant, enquire whether the other is collecting the trading cards or has the Talking Dalek. How did this happen?
The fact is that the Doctor himself always was cool. A bloke who vanquishes evil alien races, pottering about the universe on a whim and confronting megalomaniacal pepperpots. That's so groovy/wicked. Here's the big difference: in the 21st century, television technology can at last do his exploits justice. Plus, his female companions are more than screaming ciphers. And he feels more human, so you can empathise. The Doctor kisses girls.
Whom to thank? Try Russell T Davies, Towering Genius of Television Drama. A major Whovian, his reinvention of the show has been thought through to the tiniest detail.
The casting is perfect, CGI has replaced the old wobbly effects, the prosthetic aliens are art masterpieces, the scripts just bowl along… Come on! Saturday teatimes, snuggled up on the sofa, ready for a quick leap backwards, are made for the Doctor. They always were. Saturday - no school/work for another whole day. Just aliens, their nemesis and his sassy sidekick.
Charles Dickens appeared, as did Queen Victoria - but these were no boring history lessons. Queen Victoria was plagued by a werewolf! You won't find mention of that in, say, Sons, Servants and Statesmen: the Men in Queen Victoria's Life, by John Van Der Kiste.
And monsters! Daleks, Cybermen, Krillitane, Slitheen, the Ood, the Abzobaloff, the Devil himself…sca-reeeeeeee. It's what Doctor Who is all about. The Fear.
Quibbles? Mickey (the character, not lovely actor Noel Clarke). He was just a touch too weedy for too long, so that when he suddenly came over all macho, sneering and beefy, it felt less likely than John Prescott's wooing of a ladyfriend through the media of dance and sweet talk.
Whatever. Brush it aside. Doctor Who, a show of the future, has found its rightful time and place in the present.
Nick Griffiths
Do you agree? Mail us now at rtblogcomments@bbc.co.uk - the best comments may be published.
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