Doctor … Who?

It’s impossible to be British and have no idea what Doctor Who is. Even if you don’t watch it, you’re aware of it and know that exists and has done so for as long as anyone remembers. Everyone is born with innate knowledge of the programme. Without doubt, it is one of the greatest shows ever made, which can be proven simply by how long it has been running. Alright, there have been breaks, but I think they were probably necessary. Now a new generation can love it.

When Elisabeth Sladen died this week, I sort of went into shock and refused to believe it. The outpouring of grief on Twitter and Tumblr for one person was astonishing. She trended across the world and everyone had something to say about it. I’ve never seen such love for one person shared across the Internet. Even when, say, Michael Jackson died. We cared, but not like this.

This shows how much the show has touched the lives of people of all ages and backgrounds, that glamorous lady who travelled with the Doctor for many years, aiding and abetting him in his adventures, and not just standing around shrieking. She was a heroine and laid the foundations for the sort of companions the Doctor has had recently – Rose, Martha, Donna, Amy. These are women who will put their life on the line to save the Doctor rather than standing about helplessly waiting to be rescued.

All this brings me to last night’s beautifully shot, beautifully written and beautifully performed episode The Impossible Astronaut. Current show runner Steven Moffat has proved himself time and time again as being a writer of incredible ability. The fact that we know his name says enough – how many screenwriters can you name? Not many, I’d wager.

His special talent seems to be taking very common, trivial fears and bumping them up to eleven, or even providing a scary twist on something completely mundane. So, thanks to him, the population is now scared of gas masks, ticking clocks, statues, blinking, the dark and shadows, as well as making us wary to look behind ourselves or even out of the corner of our eyes.

The man is a genius of his time, and the job is helped wonderfully by the excellent cast currently in play. Arthur Darvill is the sweet, vulnerable, put-upon Rory who makes your heart melt whenever he ends up doing something he doesn’t want to do. Alex Kingston is the indomitable River Song, a mysterious woman who keeps escaping from prison (although we don’t know why she’s there) and later becomes a professor. Her storyline is amazing as it runs backwards from the Doctor’s – we know how her story ends before she does, giving every meeting with her a hint of sadness.

Then there’s Karen Gillan, the beautiful, stubborn Amy Pond, a creature so beautiful and … OK, OK, I’ll stop. Amy is a wonderful creation for the series, a headstrong young woman who knows the meaning of patience and longed for adventure from her sleepy duck-free English village.

And finally Matt Smith, the Doctor himself and, quite probably, the greatest Doctor ever. Maybe that’s too much of an overstatement, I’ve not seen much of the original series but of the three we’ve had since the reboot, he might just be my favourite. That’s not to say I didn’t love Eccleston or Tennant, I did, but I just feel Smith’s Doctor is a more … Doctor-y Doctor.

Eccleston’s Doctor was born in war; he was a veteran of a great war and suffering with guilt at what he had done to end it. He blustered around the universe like a soldier, and picked up Rose like he was trying to learn to love again. Tennant’s Doctor was cheeky and clever and handsome, and smacked of being the hero of a romantic comedy. He was the Casanova of the cosmos, brave and fearsome, but chipper and looking for fun … perhaps a little arrogant, as well as tired and beginning to suffer from the effects of loneliness and losing Rose, his true love.

But then Smith’s Doctor – that’s what the Doctor should be. The youngest and the oldest Doctor at the same time, a scatter-brained professor flying through the universe with little concept of how to deal with women and genius overlaid with insanity. A man who enjoys tweed and bow ties, but also fezzes and climbing down chimneys.

The show is not just for children, it is a masterpiece of modern broadcasting and always has been. Sure, the costumes, locations and special effects have improved no end, the stories remain compelling, gripping, exciting, scary and fantastic.

Long live the Doctor, and long live Doctor Who!

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