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The Doctor Who Template
Jan. 8th, 2013 10:37 amThere is a template for every Doctor Who episode that Steven Mofat is has his hands on. It goes like this:
PROLOGUE: A bunch of people we don't know about are rushing madly about trying to deal with a completely incomprehensible situation. (This is meant to intrigue us, but usually we only find it confusing.)
1. The TARDIS arrives at the prologue place.
2. The Doctor and his companions are swept into the completely incomprehensible situation. Very often, this incomprehensible situation involves a bad guy we can't see or a set of bad guys with no faces or faces that don't move (such as dolls, robots, flat-faced children, or mannikins) because these things are scarier than something with an expression. (Apparently, British people find emotional villains too difficult to film or to watch. And the Brits are especially terrified by children.)
3. Someone dies and/or the companions are endangered in some dreadful way. In fact, they are endangered so badly that any person with a decent psychology would be sucking his thumb in the corner for PTSD after it all ended.
4. The Doctor, talking very, very fast and using words that having nothing to do with any kind of science, advances a number of solutions that make no sense, then finally hits on one that's probably on the right track. He tries to implement it and gets a partial victory, but abruptly the situation becomes WORSE (cue evil music).
5. Worse things happen to the companions and/or to the people around them. The faceless/expressionless villain gains in power.
6. The companions are forced into some Enormous Emotional Moment. However, because every episode has some kind of Enormous Emotional Moment for the companions, the impact is rather diluted for the audience.
7. The Doctor makes some kind of sacrifice. Sometimes it's personal, but usually it's by hurting or endangering one of his companions. Mysteriously, the companions continue to adore him anyway, much like abused people continue to adore their abusers.
8. The problem is solved. The Doctor makes cheerful, pithy comments about how great humans are (presumably so his companions won't leave him). Just as the audience is beginning to relax, the camera focuses on a final sinister image.
9. End credits.
I very much fear Mr. Mofat has turned into Joss Whedon at the end of Buffy the Vampire Slayer, when you could predict what was going to happen because you knew the show.
And while we're on the subject, I'm very much bothered by the way River Song's origin was handled and continues to be handled. Amy's baby explodes in her hands and moments later, she abruptly learns that the adult River Song, with whom they've had regular contact for months, is actually her semi-timelord child grown to adulthood away from her. Yet Amy and Rory have no trouble with this? We see no grieving from the two of them. I mean, NONE. And I'm sorry, abruptly learning that your splody-baby is alive and was actually one of your best friends while you were growing up doesn't come anywhere close to making up for losing your baby in the first place. I could buy the plotline if Rory and Amy reacted realistically, but they don't. Yeah, I know it would get tiresome to have them grieving for their child in episode after episode. Easy to get around--instead of having a stupid, incomprehensible prologue, show the Doctor picking Rory and Amy up from a live-in grief center and them saying something like, "We spent six months here, and nothing will replace our baby, but at least we can move on now." You could even write an entire episode with the theme "hurting but moving on." There. Done.
This is why I don't track down Doctor Who live, and wait for it on Netflix instead. The show is cute, but only worth it when I run out of other stuff to watch.
PROLOGUE: A bunch of people we don't know about are rushing madly about trying to deal with a completely incomprehensible situation. (This is meant to intrigue us, but usually we only find it confusing.)
1. The TARDIS arrives at the prologue place.
2. The Doctor and his companions are swept into the completely incomprehensible situation. Very often, this incomprehensible situation involves a bad guy we can't see or a set of bad guys with no faces or faces that don't move (such as dolls, robots, flat-faced children, or mannikins) because these things are scarier than something with an expression. (Apparently, British people find emotional villains too difficult to film or to watch. And the Brits are especially terrified by children.)
3. Someone dies and/or the companions are endangered in some dreadful way. In fact, they are endangered so badly that any person with a decent psychology would be sucking his thumb in the corner for PTSD after it all ended.
4. The Doctor, talking very, very fast and using words that having nothing to do with any kind of science, advances a number of solutions that make no sense, then finally hits on one that's probably on the right track. He tries to implement it and gets a partial victory, but abruptly the situation becomes WORSE (cue evil music).
5. Worse things happen to the companions and/or to the people around them. The faceless/expressionless villain gains in power.
6. The companions are forced into some Enormous Emotional Moment. However, because every episode has some kind of Enormous Emotional Moment for the companions, the impact is rather diluted for the audience.
7. The Doctor makes some kind of sacrifice. Sometimes it's personal, but usually it's by hurting or endangering one of his companions. Mysteriously, the companions continue to adore him anyway, much like abused people continue to adore their abusers.
8. The problem is solved. The Doctor makes cheerful, pithy comments about how great humans are (presumably so his companions won't leave him). Just as the audience is beginning to relax, the camera focuses on a final sinister image.
9. End credits.
I very much fear Mr. Mofat has turned into Joss Whedon at the end of Buffy the Vampire Slayer, when you could predict what was going to happen because you knew the show.
And while we're on the subject, I'm very much bothered by the way River Song's origin was handled and continues to be handled. Amy's baby explodes in her hands and moments later, she abruptly learns that the adult River Song, with whom they've had regular contact for months, is actually her semi-timelord child grown to adulthood away from her. Yet Amy and Rory have no trouble with this? We see no grieving from the two of them. I mean, NONE. And I'm sorry, abruptly learning that your splody-baby is alive and was actually one of your best friends while you were growing up doesn't come anywhere close to making up for losing your baby in the first place. I could buy the plotline if Rory and Amy reacted realistically, but they don't. Yeah, I know it would get tiresome to have them grieving for their child in episode after episode. Easy to get around--instead of having a stupid, incomprehensible prologue, show the Doctor picking Rory and Amy up from a live-in grief center and them saying something like, "We spent six months here, and nothing will replace our baby, but at least we can move on now." You could even write an entire episode with the theme "hurting but moving on." There. Done.
This is why I don't track down Doctor Who live, and wait for it on Netflix instead. The show is cute, but only worth it when I run out of other stuff to watch.
