The End of Time and the end of an era

On the whole, the two and a half episodes of Doctor Who: The End of Time, were rather good. I say two and a half, because we effectively got a “these you have loved” extra reel added on to the end, as much Russell T Davies’ goodbye as the tenth Doctor’s.

I must confess, I ended last week’s episode feeling very uncertain. The carefree babbling Doctor stepping from the Tardis at the start felt like a serious misfire after the Waters of Mars. Then it improved with the Ood, the way the Master’s return was handled, and the Doctor’s race against his impending doom. The Master’s dodgy regeneration, while it paid homage to the past, was very well done, and brought the best out of John Sims’ portrayal. (It was very odd to see Dr Who being characterised as politically correct when a black man and his daughter were starring as the greedy would-be aristocrats trying to harness everything for their own dream.)

The cliffhanger – the whole human race is now based on the Master – left me very worried indeed. At the end of part one it felt like it was on the verge of becoming dangerously silly. Possibly excusable as an expression of the Master’s insanity and egocentricity, it nonetheless worried me by its gimmickry. When the return of the Time Lords was added to that, I became even more anxious. It was a wonderfully dramatic revelation, but it carried the seeds of doubt. How many more times would defunct enemies or characters be resurrected by how many more gaping holes in the plot-line?

And so I waited for part two.

And generally how triumphant it was. There was no get out of gaol free card. The Time Lord return was woven into the plot, revealing more than we knew about the Doctor’s role in ending the Time War (loved those crashed Dalek spacecraft as a visual aside), while fitting both the plot lines we knew from past and present Who. The Master’s takeover of the human race was reversed almost as an aside of realising what the Time Lord return might mean – an amoral exercise of power for the sake of power. The acting of the Master and the Doctor in consort was less a throwback to the past dodgy alliances and more a development of their individual characters.

Then comes the big surprise: who it is who knocks four times. There is a sense of banality after the huge drama, that segues into an affirmation of an individual life after the scope of global and cosmic heroics. It would have been a brilliant place for the regeneration sequence to begin.

And here comes my reservation. Yes, I understand why RTD does what he does with Tennant’s Doctor and the script (although why does this regeneration blow up the Tardis?) – but it is self-indulgent. Why should the Doctor get the time to say goodbye between ten and eleven when he’s never had it before? There is something emotionally wringing and satisfying for the fan in the various goodbyes. But in terms of the story it would have been far more powerful and draining to end it with the saving (and perhaps returning) of Wilf. The Doctor’s life given not in the gloriously won battle for the continued existence of the human race and the free universe, but for an elderly individual with only a few years ahead of him. The sting of the bitter-sweet is somewhat drawn by extending the ending.

Don’t get me wrong. It’s not ruined. This time RTD’s love of a good story is not overwhelmed by his self-indulgent love of his characters. It still (just about) works. I just think it would have been better with a quicker regeneration, and fewer goodbyes.

Despite those caveats, I think it’s the first two-parter where the second part is better than the first. So farewell, then David Tennant. You rivalled Tom Baker for the definitive portrayal of the Doctor. Farewell Russell Davies. You rebooted the best and made it better. For your emotional indulgence we forgive you. The Doctor lives and triumphs again.

Tagged as: Culture, Doctor Who, TV