Chronological Doctor Who Watchthrough #21:
Vincent and the Doctor (1890)
I’m going to sound really fucking pretentious here but you know what that’s ok. There are some Doctor Who episodes which I say are good because they’re fun and entertaining, like ‘The Next Doctor’, or because they have an interesting plot, like ‘The Pandorica Opens’, but once in a blue Moon, you get one that genuinely feels like a work of art. This is one of those episodes.
I don’t even know where to begin here. Just the authenticity and compassion of the way the episode deals with depression and suicide as themes, the way it’s stigmatised, especially back in Van Gogh’s day with it being called “madness”, but even now. The Doctor’s quote about lives being a pile of good things and bad things is incredibly poignant. As someone who has struggled with mental health, one of the most powerful things I’ve found I can do is to acknowledge the good things in my life and to feel them, but to still acknowledge they don’t necessarily soften the bad things.
I actually think that quote perfectly encapsulates the spirit of this episode. It is both happy and sad.
It’s a tragedy because Van Gogh is a very sick man, who we know from the beginning of the episode to the end is only months off taking his life, which is sad that he dies, but almost sadder is that his life was so painful that he decided death was preferable. And of course it’s a true story (obviously not the Doctor and the krafayis, but you know what I mean). While aspects of the episode are quite silly, as Doctor Who ought to be, it never shies away from its serious themes or trivialises them. Even the story of the krafayis, the ‘monster’ of the episode, is incredibly tragic. He became blind, and as a result was ostricised from his pack. He spends the rest of his days terrified and lashing out until he’s inadvertently killed by Van Gogh. It was a great choice to have Van Gogh mostly call him “he” instead of “it” as a way of both humanising him for us, but also emphasising the ways in which Van Gogh relates to him.
At the same time, the story is so inherently hopeful. The way we see Van Gogh draw hope from his art is beautiful, despite being completely unappreciated and unloved for it. The way he describes colour and the richness of the natural world. The way Curtis (the writer) imagines how Van Gogh may have talked about sunflowers and the night sky really speaks to an incredible understanding of his work. We also see him draw hope from the Doctor and Amy, who unlike everyone else in his life treat him as human, and are true friends. You really see how much they mean to him in the scene where he has a breakdown in his bed. It’s such a raw and emotional and authentic moment, that draws from the Doctor’s off-hand comment about being out his hair soon, and Van Gogh’s realisation that the only people who seem to treat him with respect will soon be gone
The most beautifully hopeful moment is of course the scene at the end when Van Gogh is brought to the museum in 2010. I honestly think this is one of the most moving moments in all of Doctor Who, with stellar performances all around, from Matt Smith, Karen Gillan, Bill Nighy and most of all, from Tony Curran who plays Van Gogh. The very idea of bringing him forward in time to see how his work is remembered is genius, and the execution couldn’t be better, from the acting, the dialogue, the music (‘Chances’ by Athlete), the camera work as it pans around Van Gogh as he sees his own work admired and loved, everything. And having the museum guy explain not just that he believes Van Gogh to be the greatest artist of all time, but also exactly why, is incredible. And he’s absolutely right, using one’s own pain to capture the beauty of the world around you is a rarely done but wonderful thing. Even the fact that upon the Doctor taking him to an art gallery in the future, it doesn’t seem to even occur to him that his own work could be there. And then the Doctor and Amy’s return to find no new paintings, but the sunflower one being signed “for Amy” is inspired.
Hats off to you, Richard Curtis, creator of some of both the funniest and most heartwarming pieces of media I’ve ever seen. Thank you for turning your pen to Doctor Who.
