#dwre

First and foremost, I think the goal of Doctor Who -- and particularly, Russell T Davies’ Doctor Who -- is edutainment. Teaching the audience was actually built into the original premise of the show, back in 1963. The Doctor’s first companions were a science teacher (Ian) and a history teacher (Barbara). So, on Rose’s first jaunt to the past, we learn about Victorian England -- or, rather, Wales -- and Charles Dickens.

“The Unquiet Dead” pits Dickens against gaseous ghost aliens, embedding some true trivia in a spooky Victorian ghost story. In the episode, Dickens begins as a lonely and weary man. He has resigned himself to never writing again, and admits to being “rather, let’s say, clumsy” with his family. (This references an alleged affair between the real Dickens and Ellen Ternen.) But his adventure with The Doctor and Rose reinvigorates him -- he resolves to return to his family, and begin writing supernatural fiction, like The Mystery of Edwin Drood. Historically, Dickens died in 1870 while working on Drood.

Some parents were upset about the ghost story aspect. They complained to the BBC that the episode was too scary for their children. (This episode does engage more directly with the horror genre than the previous two. The pre-titles sequence ends with a possessed corpse walking up to the camera and letting loose an unearthly howl.) The BBC basically dismissed this, because the terror is carefully balanced with The Doctor’s heroism and humor.

And the humor is just as educational as the horror. At one point, The Doctor realizes he’s in the presence of Charles Dickens, and goes full-on fanboy:

DOCTOR: Charles Dickens, you’re brilliant, you are! Completely 100% brilliant. I’ve read them all! Great Expectations, Oliver Twist, and what’s the other one? The one with the ghost.

DICKENS: A Christmas Carol?

DOCTOR: No, no, no! The one with the trains. ‘The Signal-Man,’ that’s it! Terrifying! The best short story ever written. You’re a genius! [...] Honestly, Charles -- can I call you Charles? -- I’m such a big fan.

DICKENS: A what, a big what?

DOCTOR: Fan. Number one fan, that’s me!

DICKENS: A fan? In what way do you resemble a means of keeping oneself cool?

DOCTOR: No, it means ‘fanatic,’ devoted to you. Mind you, I’ve got to say, that American bit in Martin Chuzzlewit, what’s that about? Was that just padding or what? I mean, that’s rubbish, that bit.

DICKENS: I thought you said you were my fan.

DOCTOR: Well, if you can’t take criticism. Go on, do the death of Little Nell, it cracks me up!

It’s a silly scene, and Christopher Eccleston seems to relish the opportunity to play such enthusiasm. But it’s also an educational scene. There are several references to Dickens’ writings, including some jokes about their critical reception. (Mark Twain famously criticized the death of Little Nell, and Martin Chuzzlewit’s “American bit” has indeed been met with mixed reactions.) 

And there’s also an interrogation of the word “fan,” in its modern context. I especially like that Russell T Davies recognizes fans for their weirdness but doesn’t judge them for it. Like, how ridiculous is The Doctor for criticizing Dickens to his face? And yet, how many times have you seen that exact exchange go down within fandom? (I’m probably guilty of it, myself. I like to think I’d restrain myself in the presence of Mr. Moffat, and wouldn’t immediately go, “Hi. Big fan. By the way, in ‘Cold Blood,’ The Doctor says that protective mothers are the very worst of humanity. What’s that about?”)

While we’re on the subject of fandom and criticism, let’s talk about Lawrence Miles.

In the “wilderness years” of 1989 to 2005, when Doctor Who had been cancelled, a series of original novels were published to keep the franchise alive. They were aimed at a more mature audience. (Russell T Davies wrote one of these novels, called Damaged Goods. I haven’t read it, but I understand there’s a scene where a character receives oral sex in the backseat of a taxi while the world ends. Hence, mature audiences.) Lawrence Miles wrote some of these novels, and as a relatively notable and popular figure in Doctor Who lore, fans were reading his blog when the new series began. His post on “The Unquiet Dead” attracted attention, because he accused the show of advocating anti-immigrant sentiments.

I read his post when I rewatched this episode, and I found it pretty shocking. He has valid points, I think, but the apparent depth of his rage and sense of betrayal was... well, uncomfortably familiar. I’ve shouted like that about Moffat’s Who, and I’ve written angrily before about other subjects. Today, I feel like that didn’t help anything. It didn’t make me feel any better to vent, it didsn’t change the product that made me angry -- all it did was maybe earn me a couple of likes. I’m rewatching Doctor Who now to move past that kind of attitude.

Ignoring Miles’ anger, I find myself resisting his point. I can see its validity -- after all, the Gelth are aliens who wish to peacefully relocate, then reveal themselves to be treacherous. If that story existed in a vacuum, I could see how it could be interpreted as anti-immigration. But "The Unquiet Dead” engages with the progressive worldview already seen in “Rose” and “The End of the World.” 

The Doctor explicitly advocates a “different morality,” to trust the Gelth and their untraditional corpse-possession practices. Faced with the same situation again, I suspect The Doctor would make the same choice.

And like the plumber Rafallo, poor Gwenyth is a working-class woman who’s accepted her indignity. (“I know it’s not my place, and forgive me for speaking out of turn,” she tells her boss.) There’s an embittered criticism of class disparity here, which anchors in a broader attitude of equality. Everyone deserves a chance in Doctor Who. Everyone is capable of grace and greatness, so we open our gates to potential immigrants.

The episode might unwittingly align with some anti-immigration values. (After all, Russell T Davies was only just learning how to plate-spin these rewrites. Mistakes are possible.) But I don’t think it matters, ‘cause the rest of the episode contextualizes it with progressive attitudes of equality. And that’s weird, ‘cause I rejected a redemptive reading of “A Good Man Goes to War” on the same grounds -- it’s possible to read the ending in a positive way, but it doesn’t matter ‘cause the rest of the episode contextualizes it in a negative way. (But that’s Series 6. I’ll get there.)