Vincent & The Doctor by ACTUAL Richard Curtis
"Our kids would have had very, very red hair"
Times columnist and my ideal woman - the lovely Caitlin Moran - warned everyone via the medium of Twitter that this episode would get people a-blubbering. As I sat down to watch with Mr Bex and Mr Glag (weren't they the homo villains in Bond?!) I steeled myself. "Don't embarrass yourself by crying in front of these two straight-acting lads, Jay! You'll never hear the end of it..."
And as the giant, blind, invisible cock lay dying on the ground, having been stabbed by... erm... an easel, I thought: "Yeah, that's a bit sad, but not sure why the piss it made The Moran cry"
Seeing the fatal slaying of a blind and frightened creature is upsetting - even if it does look like the bastard offspring of King Kong and Chicken Licken - but enough to make someone cry? It was no Parting Of The Ways, was it?
I should have known better.
This script was by Richard Curtis. The man wrote the single-most upsetting moment in sit-com history, when Blackadder went over the top. The man whose Love, Actually makes me bawl every time I see Andrew Lincoln reaching for giant bits of paper or Emma Thomson reaching for a Joni Mitchell CD wot her cheating bastard husband bought her for Christmas.
Of COURSE it was going to make me cry. That's what Curtis does best. Pull on the heartstrings. It turns out that getting him to write an episode of Doctor Who was yet another Moffat masterstroke.
That said, and if I'm being completely honest, the episode as a whole was a bit hit-and-miss.
You start with a great opening scene in the Gallery; the Doctor treating Amy to all these wondrous trips, presumably feeling a little bit guilty that her fella bit the dust and got swallowed up by a massive CRACK last week. Not that she can remember, mind you, because of said CRACK.
Then, as with all great Richard Curtis scripts, up pops Sexy Bill Nighy. Stealing the show, as always, in a cameo that was a hundred-times too small for a man of such brilliance. Genuinely chuckleworthy bow-tie related banter between his Gallery Expert Man Character and the Doctor. I would have been happy with a whole 45-minutes of this!
However... A mysterious face in one of Vincent Van Gogh's paintings seems to spell danger. And before you know it, POND and the Doctor are off to meet the ginger painty man himself.
Turns out, though, that the danger wasn't that great, or impressive. And that's where the episode fell down. It just seemed like anything sci-fi or monster-related was getting in the way of the story Curtis wanted to tell; almost added in as an afterthought to string the beginning and end scenes in the gallery together.
The giant killer turkey (?!) was shit, and it didn't feel like there was any peril at all. There were some great jokes, and a couple of nice references to Rory (Amy crying, without actually realising, being one of them - something I'm sure we'll revisit in later eps) but the whole thing did seem to drag on a little bit.
But it was never about the monster. It was never about the sci-fi. It was about feelings and emotion and heart. It was about using time-travel to make someone feel loved; wanted; special. The Doctor showed Vincent his legacy. What greater gift for someone so depressed and so tortured; someone possessed by such crippling self-doubt? It was like Chris Eccleston telling Charles Dickens that people love his books - but on a much bigger scale.
The Doctor can't save everyone - Vincent still ended up taking his own life - but he CAN make things better. The "pile of good things, pile of bad things" speech he gives may be corny, but as a way of viewing life in general, it really struck a chord with me.
That final sequence - where Sexy Bill Nighy tells the Doctor what an inspiration Van Gogh is, while Van Gogh himself listens in - is one of the most beautiful, touching, life-affirming, tear-jerking things I've ever seen.
Caitlin Moran was right.
I felt myself welling up while watching with Mr Bex and Mr Glag, but when viewing the episode a second time on my own - without fear of being judged to be somewhat 'Nancy-ish' - I cried and I cried and I cried.
Don't we all want to leave behind a legacy like that of Van Gogh? Wouldn't we all like to be spoken of in the same passionate and adoring way as Sexy Bill Nighy talks about Van Gogh? And wouldn't we all just love to know in advance? The confirmation that, despite evidence to the contrary, we're not just wasting our time on this earth? That SOMETHING good will come? One day?
As an episode of Doctor Who, it's an average tale with a brilliant ending. As a message; as a statement... Compelling and completely uplifting.
Total Score: EIGHT out of TEN
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The Lodger by Gareth Roberts
"I love you... I love you... I love you..."
"That's good, because I'm your new flatmate"
Probably somewhere in my Top Three Doctor Who Writey People Of All Time would be Gareth Roberts. Granted, I wasn't that keen on the one with everyone's favourite equine-based Slater Sister. But The Shakespeare Code was one of the few episodes that made Martha likeable, and Unicorn And The Wasp - as I think I said at the time - was "one of the finest episodes ever committed to screen. The most enjoyable 45 minutes I've had in recent memory. (With my penis still in my pants, anyway)"
And the baldy, beardy genius came up trumps again with this little number. A cheap-looking episode set in a 'normal' house in a 'normal' street that does nothing to further on the plot ready for the forthcoming season finale... It could have been another Fear Her.
But for three things.
1 - No Chloe Webber. I find anything, anywhere in the world is instantly improved by the lack of a Chloe Webber.
2 - It made me laugh out loud. Lots.
3 - It had a hint of romance and a little play with the ol' heartstrings.
As Episode Eleven's go, it was no Utopia, but it certainly wasn't Fear Her. Matt Smith was truly amazing, and this performance cemented him up there with Lord Eccleston as probably joint-favourite Doctor Of All Time. This story simply wouldn't have worked with David Tennant's Doctor - he was too human. The Tenth Doctor would have had no trouble fitting in, rendering the story un-tellable.
But Matt Smith's Doctor is SO alien - from the Bow-Tie, to his professor-esque speech patterns, down to the massive bag of cash he handed Smithy - THIS Doctor is simply rubbish at acting human. Which made for a brilliant 45-minutes. I particularly enjoyed the air-kissing. When he lunged at the footballing mate of Smithy's, I thought I was going to laugh my tit off.
As for Smithy himself... He was surprisingly non-cunt-like, which was a revelation. I was expecting him to ruin every second of screen-time afforded to him like Peter Kay (another over-exposed "comedian") in the abysmal Love & Monsters. But NO! Unlike Kay, Mr Smithy actually toned down his wide-boy, Essex-twonk schtick and gave a really heartfelt performance. Who knew he was capable of conveying perfectly the agony and frustration of being unable to tell someone you love them more than anything in the world?!
And, of course, this is the episode where Matt Smith took his clothes off. So for the great story idea, the jokes, the brilliant Matt Smith, the "KISS THE GIRL" bit and for the flash of lovely nipplette that iPlayer's PAUSE function was designed for, I give this episode...
Total Score: NINE out of TEN
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