#timeagainreviews

When I say substantial, I need you to remember what kind of fan I am. I like Doctor Who weird. I don’t want Davies to “undo the Timeless Children,” or anything so mundane. I want Davies to break Doctor Who so that people stop trying to place it in such rigid constraints. I want Davies to free Doctor Who from the binds of canon. I would love to plunge Doctor Who back into the realm of mystery promised by its title. Doctor Who isn’t the kind of show to really focus on hard facts. Can you name the different Cyberman ships? What was the name of the ridge where the War Doctor carved “No More” into a wall with a laser gun? How many times has the Doctor been 900 years old? None of these things matter to the type of story Doctor Who is. Doctor Who is unique in that its strength is what kills other shows- change. My hope is that Russell T Davies will push Doctor Who further into the realm of fluidity. I want the definition of Doctor Who to expand, not shrink.

Leading into this episode, I was most anticipating Archie Panjabi’s portrayal as the Rani. We have already seen Mrs Flood and can retroactively think of her as the Rani. But we had hardly met our new Rani before the credits rolled last week. I had a good feeling about Archie from the get-go. She has a regality about her. When I saw the photos of her “Wish World” appearance on the Doctor Who socials, I was starting to feel hopeful that they would nail the character. Her deep red coat with the gold studded shoulder pads was giving Kate O’Mara. I’ve always admired the Rani’s penchant for authoritarian power clothes. She looks smart with just a hint of dominatrix. The glimpses of her sonic syringe had me yearning for the toy. I love a good 1:1 replica, and that thing is begging to be electroplated and shipped to my house. My boyfriend better watch out because when that thing arrives, my inner Rani will unleash. She looks the part, she has the toys. So far, so good.

The episode opens in Bavaria, 1865, with the Rani visiting the seventh son of a seventh son of a seventh son. This relates back to the old folklore belief that any seventh consecutive son’s seventh consecutive son will be like a wizard. But if that wizard should then go on to have a seventh son, that son would then be a sorcerer, a sort of font of magic. As I had wondered last week, the Rani seems interested in exploiting magic as she has exploited science. Considering the Toymaker’s accent and Bavaria, I expected this baby to be related to him somehow, especially when the baby is used to turn a woman into flower petals. Not since Billy the Butcher have I seen a character wield a baby like a weapon with such finesse. The Rani kisses wishes off the baby’s head, reducing people to farm animals. The baby’s six brothers are instantly transformed into a flock of mallards. They really should have ducked. Sorry, I really quack myself up. In truth, it’s some cold shit to essentially kill those children. They sand the edges down by making them ducks, but it’s ruthless. Very Rani.

Pulling from the Steven Moffat playbook of starting the second half of a cliff-hanger in a completely different location, we find the Doctor and Belinda awaking in bed together. The room is mid-century modern kitsch. The Doctor (who is going as John Smith) and Belinda kiss one another good morning, and they set about their day. The aesthetics of the ‘50s nuclear family are the perfect backdrop for a story about a fictional world that doesn’t hold up to scrutiny. The Doctor, in his finest John Steed apparel, kisses his fake wife and his Space Baby Poppy goodbye. But reality can’t fully preserve itself, so slips happen as cups fall through tables. Not even Ruby's appearance at the Smiths’ door can shake the Doctor from this waking dream. The stifling fiction of this reality forces people into roles they were never meant to play. They are the invention of an idyllic megalomaniac who thinks men are men, women are women, the poor and disabled don’t exist, and that everything should be bright and sunny all the time. Who do we know that fits that description?

Conrad’s introduction reminded me a lot of George Orwell’s “1984” with Conrad acting as Big Brother. During his constant updates on television, Conrad must reestablish the lie of a world not in step with reality. If Conrad stops concentrating on this fantasy, reality has a shitty way of creeping back in with major consequences, such as flooding. I was amused by the choice to model Conrad’s Doctor Who story book on a Harry Potter book. Whether or not it was intentional, it rings true for a guy who seeks to limit the spectrum of human sexuality and gender. Did anyone else notice the author of the book was I. M. Foreman, like Susan? Interesting. Furthering the 1984 associations, we get Shirley and Ruby (and of course, Tharries) filling the role of the proles. And as Winston wrote “If there is hope, it lies in the proles.” Since Conrad doesn’t consider disabled people as valid, they’re essentially a blind spot in his worldview. Consequently, this provides a lot of agency for them to move about unnoticed. A rebellion is forming right under his nose.

This ragtag rebellion is comprised mostly of people with disabilities. However, Ruby is brought into the fold. Possibly due to her proximity to Conrad, Ruby can see through his facade. It’s revealed that after expressing doubts about Conrad, Ruby is turned in to the thought police by her own mother. Carla is cracking me up at this point. She’s such a traitor! This marks the third time in one reality or another where Carla has completely abandoned Ruby. I’m reminded of Rory Williams and his penchant for dying. I don’t truly believe Carla is a bad mum. It's just funny that a woman who fosters many children’s most consistent character trait is abandonment. After Ruby escapes capture, she is brought into the fold by Shirley. After vetting Ruby, they show her a UNIT tablet from before reality shifted. Ruby doesn’t recognise the device but it feels familiar. In their world, phones are still things attached to the wall, like the one Carla used to betray Ruby. With this tablet, they’re able to pinpoint Conrad’s location during his transmissions. We’ve yet to discover if and how that will come into play.

I liked that this group of outcasts were diverse, but one aspect I found weird was that they were all so young. This isn’t to say that they didn’t breach the topic of ageism. Mel’s status as a single older woman makes her invisible in her own right. But it would have been nice to see some older people in the ranks of the rebellion. It reminded me of “Alien Romulus”, which felt very aimed toward young people. Compare the cast of “Alien,” where the ages of the crew were varied. Call me out of touch, but I don’t understand this modern inclination to appeal to young people by assuming they can’t identify with older, if not elderly, characters. I got into Twin Peaks as a teenager, and that show is full of old people. Some of my favourite Doctors are old people. It’s not a huge issue, I simply find it strange. This episode has its share of elderly representation with Mel, Mrs Flood, and Susan Triad. But it feels out of step to say a group of disabled people are capable of fighting a rebellion while leaving out the elderly. Like I said, it’s not a huge issue, just weird.

John Smith works at UNIT- Unified National Insurance Team. It’s the same UNIT tower but in a completely separate line of work. Susan Triad is back in her “The Devil’s Chord” attire. Colonel Ibrahim has traded his tactical gear for a work-appropriate suit and tie. It’s like the set of Mad Men, except there’s a giant shipping box containing the Vlinx. While at work, John Smith experiences a couple of different slips. First, when he refers to Ibrahim as beautiful, something in Conrad’s world that a man should never say about another man. And again, when wondering who the Rani is as she flies her bone scooter up to a skeletal tower à la the Wicked Witch of the West. I mused last week that the Rani is too scrupulous to squabble with past incarnations as to who is in charge. However, even that narrative is beginning to show cracks in the presence of reality. While Mrs Flood may have sprung Conrad out of his cell, she and he have found themselves trapped in their own respective circumstances. The jailor and the prisoner are both left to rot while the Rani is free to do as she pleases. But what is she doing?

One thought that has remained with me since “Wish World” is, why would the Rani wish to bring back Time Lord society? To what end would the Rani benefit from resurrecting Gallifrey? Historically, the Rani has been labelled a “Renegade Time Lord,” alongside the Doctor and the Master. She wasn’t exactly in high standing with the Time Lords. And yet, within her palace is a giant Seal of Rassilon. This leads me to believe it’s not entirely about resurrecting the Time Lords, her dear friends. This feels more like her positioning herself to rule over the Time Lords. In the same way that she wouldn’t revere the Time Lords, I have a hard time imagining she holds any warmth toward Omega. Omega feels more like a means to an end; another source of power for her to manipulate. Going by the preview for next week’s episode, it sounds like she plans to use Omega’s body to rebuild Gallifrey. It's mythic in scale, drawing parallels to Norse mythology where the world was created from the body of a dead frost giant.

The Rani’s bone palace is a perplexing location. I don’t fully understand why her tower and its sentinels needed to be made of bone, but perhaps we will get an explanation next week. Or perhaps its just some weird shit Davies thought would look cool. Which, it does. Though it is amusing that while forming this fortress, the Rani saw fit to include a little bone kitchenette where Mrs Flood can make Conrad’s sandwiches. I did wonder if this palace was actually the Rani’s TARDIS, but that doesn’t explain the sentinels. If they aren’t her TARDIS, where is it? Historically, the Rani has always had a cool TARDIS. I would love a peek inside a modern version. We know she can travel in time as she was in Bavaria, so I expect to see it at some point. Unlike the Doctor’s TARDIS, the chameleon circuit still works, so it could be hiding in plain sight.

John Smith continues struggling with doubt when Conrad’s transmission is disrupted by Rogue contacting the Doctor from a Hell dimension called green screen. If you’ll recall from last year, I’m a Rogue girlie, so I was very excited to see him again. Belinda calls the thought police on John after finding him slipping cups through the dinner table. However, this is all part of the Rani’s plan. She brings the Doctor and Belinda back to her palace under the pretence of thought crimes. But it’s just an excuse for the Rani to exposit her entire plan to the Doctor. For a moment, I felt something in the pit of my stomach akin to worry. It was beginning to feel like the Master talking at the Thirteenth Doctor while she stood around doing nothing. But Davies smartly draws attention to this, informing us that the exposition is the point. The Rani intended for the Doctor to see through her ruse. She needed the power of a Time Lord’s doubt to undo reality. She needed Conrad to create a reality so unrealistic that only a red-pilled Broganite like himself could imagine it. Both he and the Doctor are merely pawns in the Rani’s quest to break apart reality so that she may find Omega underneath.

What Davies has done is essentially given himself the license to rewrite the mythology of Doctor Who. When he puts the world back into place, he can essentially reshape it. He has said recently that Gallifreyan lore will be rewritten. For my money, Gallifreyan lore has always been a bit shit anyway, so I’m fairly open to the prospect. Furthermore, in the aftermath of the Chibnall era, Doctor Who’s entire narrative has felt murky. Is the First Doctor just a fob watched version of the Fugitive Doctor who only thinks he grew up on Gallifrey? If so, whose leg did Clara grab? Who slept in the Doctor’s crib? So far, Davies has remained a bit vague on the situation, which has left many in the fandom waiting for the proverbial other shoe to drop. As I said above, I’m not looking for Davies to undo the Timeless Children, but some clarity would be nice. There are, however, some interesting context clues that could indicate which direction Davies might take the narrative.

The language over the Doctor’s origins has recently sided more on the Time Lord from Gallifrey aspect over the Timeless Child from wherever aspect of the narrative. They even refer to Omega as the first of the Time Lords. While yes, you could say that it takes more than the Timeless Child’s regeneration to make a Time Lord, it is a rather decisive way to say it, don’t you think? Furthermore, something that stuck out to me was the montage of classic Doctor’s faces, particularly the order in which they are presented. Unlike “Rogue,” which gave us a random assortment of the Doctor’s previous faces, we’re given the Doctors in chronological order. Or are we? We start with the First Doctor, William Hartnell, but shouldn’t we be starting with Jo Martin? Instead, Jo Martin is slipped in between Thirteen and Fourteen. But the War Doctor is placed in chronological order, not by his appearance. Had he been listed by his appearance, he would have been slotted between Eleven and Twelve, but here he’s shown between Eight and Nine. Perhaps because it pertains to the Doctor’s memory, they are presented in the order in which the Doctor remembers these incarnations. It’s not as though the War Doctor was forgotten by the Doctor. It may be nothing, but it's interesting that the show seems to be gravitating toward the traditional form of the narrative while still embracing aspects of the new narrative. It’s this sort of thing that makes me think we will see a kind of amalgam of the two.

The aspect of the story which stood out the most to me was Poppy. Why is Poppy here? And more importantly, what does the Doctor mean when he says Poppy is real? What implications does that have on the story? One thing we never did learn in “Space Babies” was who was making the Space Babies and why. Was the Rani attempting to create new Gallifreyans? Is that why they talk? Are any of the Space Babies going to grow up to be Susan? Is Poppy the Timeless Child? Is Susan secretly the Timeless Child? I have a hard time imagining children on Gallifrey. Specifically, new Time Lord children. I can picture the Doctor as a kid. I can picture the scarlet-clad children running in the 50th anniversary special. But I have a hard time imagining the Time Lords as reproductive. So much so that the Doctor has been alive for millennia and is only recently getting comfortable with the concept. Though I do find it funny that the closer the Doctor gets to embracing romance and sexuality, the less he mentions his age. My point, however, is that I don’t take Time Lords to be the type to reproduce. And not in that “genetic looms as canon” manner, or even asexuality, but rather in that “removed from the mundanity of having a body” sort of way. My thought of Time Lord society is that a large portion of Time Lords were dead on their feet. Ineffective and affected. Effete to a fault. They would definitely grow Space Babies.

Sadly, one of my predictions about Doctor Who has not come true. Mrs Flood is not some storytelling god with the ability to cancel Doctor Who. Fears of cancellation weren’t the most brazen of marketing gimmicks, but rather a harsh possibility. It’s a real shame when you consider Doctor Who is currently on an uptick in quality, but so was the Cartmel era and they still took it off the air. Something I think Davies could have done better was to reassert the narrative when he returned. There were large portions of the fandom who wanted to see him erase the Timeless Children from the show completely. Some fans were afraid he would do just that. Meanwhile, I found myself somewhere in the middle where I simply wanted him to make it work. His desire to please everyone has left a lot of people unhappy. Because of this, next week’s episode feels pivotal. Will Davies finally let the proverbial other shoe drop? I’d like to hope that Davies is improving the sandbox. I’m hoping that he will use this reality disruption as a chance at a clean slate. Marvel shook up continuity with Battleworld, why can’t Doctor Who do it?

I don’t bring up “The Crooked World,” as a slight on Lux, quite the opposite. It’s clear that Steve Lyons saw something in Doctor Who that Russell T Davies also agreed with. Doctor Who is a show begging to do an episode like “Lux.” I harp on and on about how Doctor Who is a metatextual story wherein the mythology is often dictated by its own real-world limitations. Because of this, it’s developed a kind of maleability which allows it to take on genres like the Fifteenth Doctor trying on clothes. Experimentation and parody are part of the brand. It’s part of why Doctor Who is so appealing while simultaneously daunting to new fans. But it’s also why people like me side with “rad” in the “rad vs trad” debate. Doctor Who is meant to be radical because it’s not bogged down like other properties. What is Star Wars without the Sith? Where is The Dark Crystal without the Skeksis? Doctor Who can do away with Daleks and Cybermen invasions forever because it’s also a show where glowing skulls manifest golden goddesses, sailing barges drift through space, and cartoon men attain universal consciousness.

If you read Doctor Who Magazine, which I do (mostly for the comics), you’ll likely have been treated to the first appearance of Mr Ring-a-Ding and Sunshine Sally in the one-page comic eponymously titled “Mr Ring-a-Ding.” In it, Mr Ring-a-Ding helps the Easter Bunny deliver eggs in his cartoonish jalopy. It’s very festive and timely, with it having just been Easter. But the part that stuck out to me the most was Mr Ring-a-Ding’s first utterance of “Don’t make me laugh.” Not because it reminded me of “The Giggle,” but rather how Eddie Valiant gains the upper hand in “Who Framed Roger Rabbit,” by making the nefarious cartoon weasels laugh themselves to death. Whether or not this was a direct reference to Roger Rabbit, I don’t know, but it was enough to give me hopes that the story would do right by its own premise.

The second RTD era has introduced us to some new tech. First with intelligent gloves and rope, and now the “vortex indicator,” or “vindicator,” as the Doctor calls it. As Doctor Who gadgets go, I love the vindicator. The notion of using a beacon to latch onto points in time like a grappling hook is so tactile and chonky. It feels like the same Doctor who flew the TARDIS onto a busy motorway with a piece of twine. It’s brilliant, but practical. The Doctor has been forced to use this mode of travel because the TARDIS keeps bouncing off of the 24th of May like a game of pickleball. Belinda, while still wary of the Doctor, seems to trust that he’s not just yanking her chain about getting her back home. However, she doesn’t want to go home so fast that she would pass up the chance to see Miami in 1952.

The usual crybaby wankers were up in arms about the Doctor and Belinda talking about the real life practice of racial segregation in public places in America. Evidently, it’s woke to mention the existence of real-world racism as it applies to the Doctor and Belinda’s safety. Yet you never hear anyone complain when Martha or Bill spoke on the subject. I guess that’s where we are in the world. And like the Doctor, I wait for people to topple that world. “Until then, I live in it and I shine,” - words I needed to hear after a week where the UK Supreme Court declared I’m no longer a woman but a secret third thing. You may ask how someone like me can keep talking about Doctor Who when the world is like it is, but Doctor Who is part of why I am here. Art and expression sustain us. The Doctor’s words helped me forget the real-life super villain smoking cigars on her yacht. That feeling lasted until watching “Doctor Who Unleashed,” and hearing Ncuti Gatwa platform Harry Potter. It’s easy to see why the Doctor Who Instagram account chose to highlight his comments about Pokémon instead. 

The conversation of race felt less like a morality tale and more of a history lesson for kids who may not know about racial segregation. It doesn’t really become the plot like it does in “Rosa,” and ironically, I feel it’s more effective. That said, it doesn’t say much on the subject other than “this happened.” The only time racial tensions truly come up in the story is when Lux is trying to fool the Doctor with another illusion. For the most part, the people of Miami seem almost eager to bend the rules. I like this depiction because it’s one often over-looked in these situations. The world would like me to see cis people as suspicious, but I see acts of kindness and acceptance from them every day. It’s important that we see the “Dot and Bubble,” side of racism as much as the “Lux,” side as well. There are people out there who want to share space with people different from them because the world is better when we do.

“Lux” plays out much like an episode of “Sapphire & Steel.” Two time travellers show up, one flamboyant and one stern. They spend their time in a single location trying to save fifteen lost souls from a mysterious “haunted” movie theatre. It’s as though P.J. Hammond was in the writers’ room. Previously, I had compared the reluctant companion role of Belinda to Doctor Who’s first human companions, Ian and Barbara. However, due to this dynamic, we see aspects of the First Doctor in the Fifteenth Doctor’s desire to explore obvious danger despite the protests of his human friend. It restores in the Doctor a bit of his mercurial wiliness that we’ve lost with gung-ho companions. It’s nice that Rose is ride-or-die, but Belinda’s sober attitude has a grounding effect when the stories start to introduce giant robot incels and blue talking cartoon pig bugs.

The Pantheon is back with another God of Chaos in the form of Lux Imperator, the God of Light, as voiced by the the brilliant Alan Cumming. After surfing a moonbeam through the Palazzo Theatre’s skylight, the glint off of a tack shines his essence into the projection beam of a Mr Ring-a-Ding cartoon. Lux has been given life in the form of this capering cartoon icon. His perspective towers over the audience as he reaches out of the screen into the dark. I was reminded in more ways than one of the friendly Stay Puft Marshmallow Man chosen as the means of mankind's destruction. After witnessing Lux vanish the audience onto celluloid, the theatre owner, Reginald Pye, keeps Lux at bay by screening reels throughout the night. Or perhaps Lux keeps Mr Pye at bay by manifesting a film reel of Mr Pye’s late wife, Helen, back from the dead. Both of them are stuck in a loop of fear. Mr Pye afraid to let go of the past. And Lux afraid to step out of the darkness into the light. My only question is what the hell was Mr Pye eating for three months? Popcorn?

After 37 years of technological advancement, how does Lux compare to Roger Rabbit? The choice to continue using hand-drawn animation was obvious. You can’t have Mr Ring-a-Ding looking like an animated reconstruction. He needed to look the part of a classic cartoon and he does. They even hired an animator who worked on Roger Rabbit, who I am sure was a font of knowledge. The static cameras we saw in “Marry Poppins,” compose many of the shots with Mr Ring-a-Ding. However, this feels like more of a directorial choice than a limitation. Many of the shots in the theatre are framed like a stage play. They’re calling attention to the artifice of theatre to call attention to how we, the audience, consume media. More on that later. The only time I was ever actually disappointed by the animation was when the Doctor and Belinda are turned into cartoons. I loved their Scooby-Doo aesthetics, but the sequence was little more than a trailer moment. Had I known this was about as far as they were planning to take this concept, I would have preferred they not put it in the trailer. I’m reminded of the time they announced the return of the John Simm Master instead of letting us be surprised by it. Hell, even the thumbnail is them as cartoons on iPlayer.

Had it not been for the stellar animation of Mr Ring-a-Ding, I would have felt stronger about the cartoon Doctor and Belinda being cut so short. It would have felt like they wasted a good concept on poor execution. As it stands, this may be some of the best animation in Doctor Who history. And I do still feel like they wasted a bit of the potential for some animated Doctor hijinks, but RTD had other plans. Hijinks would have gotten in the way of possibly Doctor Who’s most meta storyline to date- the Whovians. After breaking out of the 2-D space by gaining a bit of depth through vulnerability, the Doctor and Belinda find themselves in a white void, the visual of a film lens flooded with light. Our heroes try to break out of the film by forcing the frames of the film to advance. Davies even sneaks in a line about needing to stop scrolling and go outside. Which is really the theme of this episode. How we take in media extends into how we live our lives.

The Doctor and Belinda find themselves in the living room of three avid Doctor Who fans- Lizzie, Hassan, and Robyn. This is Davies calling us, and by extension, himself out. It’s also a love letter to the fans. Sure, they’re opinionated and annoying, but they also made friends through their love for Doctor Who. One of my favourite moments in this scene was the jump cut to the Doctor lounging on the couch while the Whovians geeked out around him. The Doctor once claimed to be a Sagittarius, but this is total Leo behaviour. I found myself thinking of the Fourth Doctor, whom I imagine would also relish in a bit of fan worship. He even had a cup of tea! It was such a cute attention to detail and I’d be hard pressed to think of a single Doctor I couldn’t see allowing themselves a moment of ego stroking. The living room set is full of fun Easter eggs for nerds like myself to scour freeze frames like a Doctor Who edition of an I Spy book. Davies pulls back on the meta by positioning the Whovians as the fictional characters and the Doctor and Belinda as real. It’s another illusion created by Lux. The fans get to save the Doctor by helping him break from the illusion. The Doctor and Belinda burn their way out of the screen.

Having the Doctor repair his hand with some excess bi-generation energy was a bit silly. It’s really only there to reveal regeneration energy to Lux. What’s funny is this is now part of regeneration lore. So have fun with that, wiki editors. It’s also interesting to note that the Doctor has firmly continued to refer to himself as a Time Lord. He reveals these things to Belinda throughout the episode. I love Belinda’s early days reactions to the Doctor. She gasps when she sees him use the sonic screwdriver for the first time. And she sighs at the ridiculousness of introducing the Doctor as “the Doctor.” I find myself all the more endeared toward her. I hope she and the Doctor continue referring to one another as Fred and Velma, respectively.

Lux sees the Doctor’s regeneration energy as the ultimate light for a God such as Himself. With it, he can grow a real body. Parts of this story felt like a rehash of “The Devil’s Chord.” Only instead of it being Ruby tied up by snakelike lines of music so a God can steal her essence, it’s the Doctor tied up by snakelike rolls of film so a God can steal his essence. They could have avoided this by having Lux manifest a couple of Sunshine Sallies to hold the Doctor within the beam. When he says “Go get ‘em, girls!” it’s what I actually expected to happen. The snakey film reels were still cool and had I never seen “The Devil’s Chord,” I wouldn’t have thought twice. I really enjoyed the attention to detail by giving Lux a cartoon heart in the x-ray shot of his chest soaking in the regeneration energy. It’s the details that make this episode work so well. There is a loving hand at the helm.

It’s up to Belinda to save the Doctor now. Remembering that celluloid is highly combustible, she heads to the projection booth to blow a hole in the roof. But Mr Pye with his nicotine stained fingers won’t give up his matches, especially not to let Belinda blow herself up. He’s spent to long pining for the image of his dead wife. His best chance to see her again is by searching the undiscovered country. The ghostly apparition of Helen is giving Lady in the Radiator vibes as she assures Reggie that in Heaven, everything is fine. In fact, a lot of this episode reminded me of the works of David Lynch. The theatre gave “Part 8,” of the Twin Peaks revival where Helen also made a fine stand in for Seniorita Dido. And the image of Lux fading into the universe evokes the ending of “The Elephant Man.” Joseph Merrick’s consciousness floating into the stars as his mother’s face welcomes him, saying “Never. Oh, never. Nothing will die. The stream flows, the wind blows, the cloud fleets, the heart beats. Nothing will die"

The “death,” of Lux was like something out of eastern philosophy. The idea of losing all identity by becoming everything in totality was both tragic and beautiful. What is complete ego death to a God? Is it odd that this felt less like Lux dying or even being defeated, and more like the natural cycle of his life playing out? It’s curious that as he’s absorbing regeneration energy, Lux becomes more complex, and very possibly, more deranged. But as he begins to soak up the light of the sun, he returns to his 2-D state. The Doctor mentioned that being 2-D gave you two dimensional thought. On a less complex and fundamental level, Lux yearns for the light. Perhaps this is why he lost dimension. His nature is simply to shine.

Other than the late Reginald Pye, this is one of those “Everybody lives!” moments. The patrons of the theatre have returned to their families with little memory of being captured to film. Even our Whovian friends become more than characters that don’t merrit last names. The credits see to it that we know their names are Lizzie Abel, Hassan Chowdry, and Robyn Gossage. The implications of this on the greater Whoniverse are yet unknown. It wouldn’t be the first time Doctor Who has broken the fourth wall or even met fans. They’ve done this storyline multiple times in the comics. However, having characters who know the world of Doctor Who exist within Doctor Who could get interesting. Just look at Marvel’s Gwenpool, a superhero from our universe. Her knowledge as a comic book fan gives her an edge in their world. Lizzie, Hassan, and Robyn are living in what is basically a Doctor Who isekai.

All of this meta fourth wall-breaking points directly at Mrs Flood. I’ve seen fan theories that the three Whovians are secretly the Gods of Ragnarok and that Mrs Flood is some sort God of Fiction. Perhaps she has the ability to cancel Doctor Who. It would make sense when you consider she says the show ends on the 24th of May. But if you’re paying attention, you’ll notice that while the 24th is a Saturday, it’s only episode seven. The show goes on beyond. This gives further credence to theory that Doctor Who cancellation rumours are actually a clever tie-in with this Mrs Flood storyline. In the same manner that regeneration addressed the real world change of a lead actor, Mrs Flood addresses the real world threat of Doctor Who’s cancellation. Mrs Flood is like a sort of all-powerful Mary Whitehouse, hellbent on putting an end to the Doctor’s story.

I said at the beginning of season two that I found it odd that they would film season two of Doctor Who before season one had even aired. However, I am now wondering if it’s not so they could leave themselves enough room to plan for season three to start filming at the end of season two. After all, we still have “The War Between the Land and the Sea,” coming. It would be weird to cancel a show they’ve put so much time and effort into. Can you imagine the sad state of airing a spin-off to a show that just got cancelled? Furthermore, Disney+ recently revealed that Doctor Who was it’s number five most watched series last year, which is pretty good for our beloved show. The BBC also stated that Doctor Who is among one of its top earners across their entire media empire. Is RTD so bold that he would use cancellation as a marketing ploy? It’s a risky one for sure. On one hand you could get more people watching, on the other hand, it could scare off would-be viewers who see it as a testament to the show’s overall quality. Are we living through a second Cartmel era where the show is facing cacellation just as it’s starting to get good again? I certainly hope not.

In the hours leading up to the finale, I wondered how they were going to end a war within a single episode. I had quite a few questions. Would Aquakind release rust upon the surface? Will we see any epic battles? If Aquakind can turn the ground into a muddy grave, is anyone safe? What was the point of Salt switching genders when she gets angry? How will Salt prove her worth and earn her place back with her people? Just what will a world of humans co-existing with Aquakind look like? It seemed impossible to fit so much into a single episode. I’ll admit I was doubtful, and as it would turn out, I was right to be.

Ahead of the series, I wrote that I was dubious about a story revolving around the Sea Devils. In my experience, Sea Devil and Silurian stories often ended the same way. They emerge from the depths of the planet. They threaten the future of humanity. We wonder if we could ever cohabitate the earth. The writers realise that would change the world of the show too much, so they pull back. The status quo is restored. This repetition of storyline was the biggest hurdle a Sea Devil tv show needed to clear to stand out as something more than a footnote within the Whoniverse. And there was an opportunity here to change the world of Doctor Who in a significant way. It wasn’t without precedent either. As I have mentioned previously, RTD introduced aliens to the world in a way Doctor Who had not quite seen before. Sure, in classic Doctor Who, alien invasions happened, but the general public seemed to either forget them or disbelieve them. But in the 2005 revival series, humankind became well aware of the existence of aliens. Would a world where you see Barclay and Salt on the Coldplay Kisscam be a bridge too far?

By the end of the episode, the closest we got to a world where Aquakind and Humanity coexist is in the form of the Hunting Ground. The Hunting Ground, as Salt refers to it, is basically the equivalent of a reservation. It’s also the show’s greatest hope to have any kind of lasting impact on the Whoniverse, depending on how it plays out. On one hand, it does exactly what every Sea Devil story does by reverting things to the status quo. I mean, how often do you visit the deepest trenches of the ocean? As far as humanity is concerned, the Sea Devils don’t exist anymore. Conversely, should the show turn the Hunting Ground into something more substantial, things could get interesting. As humans like Kate Lethbridge-Stewart attempt to repair the relationship with Aquakind, there are opportunities for future stories. That, or they will remain buried within the depths of the ocean as a distant memory.

The last time we saw Barclay, he was calling out to Salt, who had just dove into the Thames. I was surprised to find Barclay without shackles around his wrists and ankles after helping a suspected terrorist escape justice. Mind you, it’s not as though things are all hunky-dory for Barclay. He needs a chaperone any time he goes outside, as the general public views him as a traitor to his own species. He’s not exactly free either, as the guards posted outside his room keep a constant vigil on him. Even still, Barclay manages to slip out each evening and call out to Salt in hopes that she will hear him. And each evening, she fails to hear him. This is mostly due to humanity’s bombardment of the waters with sonic impulses meant to disrupt underwater communications between Aquakind. But the entire time, Barclay is being watched. The humans want Barclay to guide them back to Salt, but they have other contingencies.

As their questionable peace talks indicated from the outset, Aquakind was always toying with humanity. They saw the pollution of the planet as the first offence. Their “invasion” of the surface was more of a retaliation. Their latest attempt to toy with humanity comes at the beginning of the episode when Aquakind lets out a high-pitched sound, which calls our poor pet dogs into their nets. This is meant to get a rise out of humanity. “You can’t eat our dogs,” argues humanity. “You eat our fish,” counters Tide. Messing with dogs is usually a pretty surefire way of unsettling the audience, but in this case, it’s rather short-lived. As it turns out, this was just a distraction from their latest global threat to humanity- flooding.

While humanity is busy trying to figure out what Aquakind wants with our dogs, the polar ice caps are melting. Shielded from detection of human sensors, Aquakind has been beavering away at melting the ice caps to raise sea levels. Not only would this drown humanity and choke us with carbon, but it would also increase their domain. Now they truly have humanity backed into a corner. Sure, they could turn the ground we walk on into quicksand. And they can rain garbage onto our streets, creating chaos. And sure, they can control the way water moves. And, yeah, maybe they can turn all of our metal structures to rust. And perhaps their technology far surpasses our own. But somehow this is the moment humanity realises it was boned. All of those other things were just minor apocalypses.

The evil cronies are finally at a point where they feel threatened enough to enact Severance. After injecting Barclay with something, they seem to calm their sonic offensive enough to allow contact between him and Salt. I’m not exactly certain what they were doing here, as I was playing Mahjong on my phone at this point. That’s the kind of top-notch attention to detail you can expect from this blog, evidently. From what I could half-assedly gather was that this is when Barclay infected the water with the Severance virus. What this had to do with him talking to Salt is anyone’s guess. Perhaps he was able to talk to Salt this time because they needed the ocean’s mycelial network uninterrupted in order to spread the virus. They certainly weren’t going to use Salt as a carrier, as she was already shunned by her people at this point. The bottom line is, I got the gist. I also won my game.

Salt gives Barclay a possible out in the form of something she refers to as “accord.” Much like Severance, the name implies all you really need to know. The Sea Devils have a sort of code by which they live, wherein they will give audience to anyone asking for accord. It’s an interesting concept and one that I find a bit frustrating. Throughout the entire peace negotiation phase, not once did humanity ask for help or leniency. All anyone seemed capable of doing was taking a defensive stance and asking for more time. Aquakind clearly possesses the technology and understanding of the world to help clean its waters. Yet not once did anyone suggest working together. And now we discover that this cooperation could have been possible had humans thought to use the word accord. Okay then.

At first, it appears that Kate and UNIT’s attempt to ask for accord has resulted in some kind of ceasefire. However, we learn that the reason for Aquakind’s radio silence has more to do with the Severance virus. The effect of Severance is that it causes scales on Aquakind’s bodies to accumulate and choke them with a barnacle-like build-up. That or Fenric has returned, and we’re in deeper shit than we previously imagined. This genocide committed by humanity causes the waterways to fill with the floating dead bodies of Aquakind. We never see Tide again as we’re left to assume he is among the number of victims. Instead, we see Salt return as the Aquakind ambassador. After the losses Aquakind experienced, it’s not hard to imagine why they would embrace Salt once again. She and Barclay stand in the very spot where they first met, but the tone is far more sombre. Salt accepts humanity’s offer of sanctuary, but leaves a lingering threat in the minds of those who created Severance. Water will one day find them, and justice will be had.

It was at this point that I began to worry that the show was about to shift into “Children of Earth” levels of depressing. Kate was mourning Ibrahim. The bad guys had just committed genocide, which killed 90% of Aquakind. And Salt and Barclay were once again separated. But in that moment, we are given a bit of levity when Kate receives a phone call from Barclay’s physician which spells good things for Barclay. Since his initial separation from Salt, Barclay had been acting strangely. It wasn’t just that he missed his fish girlfriend; he was beginning to feel uncomfortable outside of water. Not even Barbara’s negative ass could change his mind. Barclay was changing.

We’re not told what the doctor says to Kate, only that it causes her to return to Barclay. We see Barclay phone Barbara and Kirby, who don’t even get a proper send-off. We’re forced to watch them sob in what looks like deep pain at the loss of their father figure. Speaking of Kirby, I’d also like to mention briefly that last week I mistakenly used the wrong pronouns for them. I’m grateful to the reader who graciously pointed out my blunder. I have since edited this error, and I am sorry. I take that sort of thing seriously, and it was genuinely a mistake. I was sad to say goodbye to Kirby in this manner, as I had grown rather fond of them. Perhaps I have been too harsh on Barbara for her treatment of Barclay if he’s the sort of guy to leave his kid forever with a phone call. Honestly, what the fuck even was that?

Kate drives Barclay out to the ocean, where he and Salt find one another. The two of them playfully splash about and kiss. Having been around the block a few times, witnessing a grown man kiss a fish woman doesn’t even make Kate flinch. Because the scene leading up to this moment was a wordless montage showing Barclay’s medical information and the word “accord” on the screen, I’m not exactly sure why what happens next happens. Barclay suddenly sprouts gills which enable him to swim and live underwater with Salt. My impression is that this was already happening to Barclay at the beginning of the episode, which is why he was starting to feel uncomfortable outside of water. What I am confused by is why in the hell does the computer flash the word accord on his MRI? What does accord have anything to do with this moment? It’s not exactly something that makes sense, so their decision to disseminate this information through a silent montage is all the more baffling.

Despite my confusion, this scene is genuinely charming, if not a bit weird. I’m glad they chose to end the series on a high note as opposed to the horribly depressing end of the war. We narrowly averted that “Children of Earth” brand of cruelty that I despised so much. For that, I am rather relieved. One of the aspects I will continue to praise about this show was how well they managed to balance the tone. We never stray too far into either the saccharine or the morose. They strike a good balance of humour while also allowing for complexity. Kate is given plenty of space to mourn Ibrahim. While Barclay and Salt’s relationship does appear rather abrupt, there is enough chemistry there to find it charming. Ironically, where the show struggled the most was with war. You know, the one between the land and the sea? The title of the goddamned show!

There are so many ideas within this show that never get fully explored, and they have everything to do with the war. Homo Aqua presents several threats, none of which seem to go anywhere. Their soldiers stand poised within the waters, ready to strike at any moment. Outside of an initial skirmish in episode one, we don’t really see an onscreen battle. We see a lot of people ready to battle, but it never comes to blows. It's more of a battle of attrition than anything else. I’m not saying I’m some meathead Luddite who needs to see whizbang flashy lights to be entertained. But where exactly was that Disney money going? Evidently, Disney could afford to populate the screen with CGI monsters. Just not enough to make them move about the screen. In the end, the true war was between the desire to tell a love story and the desire to depict a war. Given the short runtime of five episodes, one of these aspects was always going to suffer. In the end, it’s cheaper to film Russell Tovey and Gugu Mbatha-Raw kissing than it is to film an entire battle sequence. So love won this war.

Kate waves goodbye to the happy couple as they swim off into the sunset, but the show isn’t quite over yet. If you recall from last week, Russell T Davies was hyping up a certain post-credits scene. In this moment, I could feel myself getting anxious. What did the mad lad have in store for us? Fan speculation was at its usual extreme. Was the Master going to show up? After all, he was tied to the first appearance of the Sea Devils. Or perhaps we were going to get a glimpse of Billie Piper. Would she finally reveal her identity? Maybe they went back and filmed something simple to get us excited for next year’s Christmas special. Instead, we got a scene where Kate pulls a gun on a guy for littering. That’s it. No cameos. No tantalising mysteries. Just a joke about the subtle way this war has changed Kate.

At face value, there is nothing wrong with this scene. Had it simply been allowed to air, people would have laughed and moved on. But Russell had to get people hyped. He needed to get the rumour mill going. And sadly, he barely needed to give it a nudge. The fandom is so hungry for any information about the future of Doctor Who that Russell couldn’t even casually say, “Oh, by the way, there is a post-credits scene.” Even if his goal was to make sure we didn’t miss it, he’s already lost because fan speculation will run wild if you give it a chance. His best bet was to let people find the post-credits scene naturally. From what I have seen online, a lot of people were disappointed by that. It was the war between the expectation and the reality of the situation.

Ultimately, I would call this show a harmless failure. Did I hate it? No. Did I enjoy watching it? Sure. The issue is that the series was constantly at odds with its scope and its ability. Davies and McTighe clearly had a lot of ideas, but Disney had other ideas. Instead of killing their darlings and trimming some of the fat, the people at Bad Wolf decided to cram as much as possible into five episodes. While I praised things like Kate’s dramatic arc, even that leads nowhere. We see Kate push herself to abuse medication and threaten her psychiatrist with zero repercussions. Her burnout culminates in nothing. Sure, she’s stressed to her limit, but it never causes her to make the wrong decisions. Not even Ibrahim’s death was due to her negligence, quite the contrary. It was Kate’s taking a little R&R that resulted in his death. So what was the point of any of that? To add tension to the story about a world that was about to be overrun by angry fish lizards? My only hope is that they are setting Kate up for a future storyline where her actions start to come back on her. Davies has an entire Whoniverse planned. Maybe he wanted to explore this further. As it stands, it was nothing.

This is the problem with modern Doctor Who’s penchant for planting seeds. It gets the rumour mill going, but it also sets itself up for failure. This problem reaches far back beyond the RTD2 era. By the time the Doctor finally made it to Trenzalore, did anyone even care? Modern fiction seems to have moved past this notion. Instead of holding on to a golden nugget of mystery, the trend seems geared toward telling the best story possible in the moment. Think of Andor’s payroll heist on Aldhani. A lesser show would have made that the season finale, but instead, Andor uses it as a stepping stone in a thrilling adventure. The only thing that slows those stories is the natural progression of events. We’re not told to anticipate some magical bullshit that may or may not be coming at the end of this season if we promise to engage on social media and speculate to a point which exceeds the budget of the show. I hope Davies and co take a step back from planting seeds of engagement and focus more on storytelling.

I complained a lot about the dialogue from the RTD2 era. Characters state the obvious, having little by way of ambiguity. I’ve attributed this to Russell’s own underestimation of his audience. Characters speak in soundbites within shots framed with Tiktok’s vertical aspect ratio in mind. People used to call out Moffat for throwing in lines designed to be a Tumblr gif. We’re now in the era of its much dumber cousin. So when we watch a show that, for the most part, takes its time to establish characters and motivations, it actually starts to feel like the Doctor Who we love. We don’t need darker storylines. Hell, part of the reason I like this show is that compared to Torchwood, it’s not absolutely depressing. We don’t need Doctor Who to say fuck. We need the storytellers to get comfortable and do the job implied in their namesake- tell a fucking story.

Speaking of Torchwood, I should mention that it was pointed out to me that General Pierce was actually in “Children of Earth,” a fact which I did not recall in my review last week. Torchwood is probably one of my biggest blind spots in Doctor Who. As I stated last week, I’m not much of a Torchwood fan. I’ve only ever watched the series once and haven’t thought about it much since. Apologies for my mistake there. Not that it matters much, as Colonel Pierce and a few others got dispatched rather quickly in episode three. Maybe his fatherly advice toward Barclay would have rang a little less hollow if I had remembered him. Alas, there was no nostalgia to be mined from my bonce. 

Much of episode three’s runtime feels a bit like filler. It kind of makes sense why they have been doubling up episodes. I doubt their viewing figures would have remained as strong had they put a week between episodes three and four. That’s not to say that episode three is without function or that the things that happen within weren’t important. Perhaps it harkens back to my point about them trying to fit an entire war within five episodes. There’s not a lot of time for setup and payoff. It’s all boom boom boom, one thing to the next. And boy do things go boom.

While the crew plummets to the bottom of the Romanche trench, we’re given some much-needed screentime with Kate Lethbridge-Stewart. Kate gets called into a private Cobra meeting where she’s ambushed by the Charcuterie Crew in front of the entire Illuminati. Perhaps it was a budget issue, but I found these scenes a bit underwhelming. It’s really just three people yelling at Kate while a bunch of Zoom callers add nothing to the conversation. The show doesn’t have much time to develop these villains. After all, there’s a war on. But Kate does get more time with Colonel Ibrahim, which is nice. I liked seeing these quieter moments between Christopher and Kate. He even managed to snag her some Jammie Dodgers, which evidently are hard comeby after Aquakind placed an embargo on things. Plus the amount of looting and panic buying that must have happened after the rubbish deluge, probably left the local off-licence bare.

Ibrahim is pleading with Kate to take some time off. She can’t do anything while the crew makes their way to the bottom of the sea, so she may as well sleep. Kate, being a the workaholic she is, agrees to go home, but not to stop working. Unfortunately for Ibrahim, his suggestion to leave the safe confines of UNIT HQ proves to be the very thing that takes his life. When an assassination attempt is made on Kate’s life, it’s he who takes the bullet. Losing Colonel Ibrahim in this manner felt a bit cheap. There was no reason to kill him off other than to be sad, which feels cruel. I was reminded of any one of the deaths of the Torchwood crew, which also failed to land. I get that this is war and people die, but what was the point of his character if not to tragically die to thrust Kate’s character forward? Is it progress when the character who gets fridged is a man?

The crew aboard the submersible are basically the same thing as they die mere moments after arriving to the bottom of the sea. As the submersible touches down, the crew get pulled even deeper into an environment made especially for them with breathable air and a pressurised chamber. Whales cast shadows across the membrane above. It’s a bit of magic I was hoping for, but sadly, it’s short-lived. The reveal of the underwater domain was a bit of a letdown. It was really just a bunch of CGI Aquakind peppered along a black reef of sorts. While I appreciated the blink-and-you-miss-it appearance of the classic Sea Devils, I found the design a bit underwhelming. I was reminded of the Hell scenes from the horrible Spawn movie with all of the Hellspawns digitally replicated. Salt claims her people are nomads, so them having any kind of domain is a bit of a head-scratcher. I wasn’t really expecting to see an underwater Flintstones neighbourhood with Myrka-pulled water busses, but some grandeur wouldn’t have gone amiss. 

Among the crew, we have Ted Campbell, an eccentric weirdo channelling Gyles Brandreth, who may as well be wearing an “I will either die or turn evil,” t-shirt. In this case, he does both. Automatically, he gives creepy weirdo canvassing for the Reform Party vibes. He’s both flippant and serious. He oscillates between pontificating philosophy and flopsweats. But he has stage four cancer and will do anything for the gram, so he agrees to sacrifice himself for the cause of keeping his cronies' pockets lined with money. His “peace offering” is a globe which sets off a deadly pulse killing his crew and much of the Aquakind in attendance. Were it not for Salt’s quick thinking, Barclay would have been among their numbers. Instead, she presses her mouth to his so that he may breathe while a slipstream whisks them back to the surface.

Barclay’s family and the rest of UNIT assume he has died. The UNIT crew is at an all-time low. Not only have humans committed an act of terrorism, but they have lost personnel who would have been key in the ensuing fight. Not only have Pierce and Ibrahim perished, but so have Captain Mackie and Min Tso. There’s a moment after, where an already frazzled Kate and Shirley discover Tso’s sketch pad. I like to think written in the margins are a list of the names she was trying to force upon Aquakind. While we did lose a fair number of UNIT operatives, we did get a name drop for Morris. Our boy genius is still plugging away somewhere. The same cannot be said of the Vlinx. Maybe when he went into hiding during “Lucky Day,” some intern moved a filing cabinet over his trap door, and he’s been stuck ever since. (I know he’s in “The Reality War,” but it ruins my joke, so shut it.)

What happens after Barclay and Salt reach the surface is not depicted onscreen, but it’s implied that they are apprehended by UNIT. Salt has been separated from him and left in a containment unit. She’s been labelled a pariah by her people and a piranha by human standards. Due to a deepfake video of her threatening the human race, she is treated as a terrorist. Barclay, knowing the truth, helps her escape by backing the Lorry into the Thames and diving in after her. Once again, she uses her unique physiology to protect him from the polluted river.

Speaking of her um, unique physiology, we do get some interesting glimpses into how things work for her. Earlier in the story she mentions to Barclay that her people spawn by the thousands. So I was right last week. She really did grab two eggs off the pile. I couldn’t help but think of Futurama, when Fry goes to get it on with a mermaid only to be confused by their differences in anatomy. But in this situation, Salt doesn’t leave a clutch of eggs for Barclay to nut on. Instead it’s implied that they mostly did mouth stuff together. Salt’s implication that Barclay tastes salty is the classier version of the “Love and Monsters,” paving slab blowjob. It reminded me of Björk’s song “Oceania,” wherein she says, “Your sweat is salty, I am why.” My friend Steve pointed out that Russell Tovey has now made it with a werewolf and a fish person. Add a vampire, the Invisible Man, and a mummy to the mix, and he’ll have the Universal Monsters under his belt! That said, I am full of questions.

While I did find Salt breaking glass and trilling with glee to be effective at endearing us toward her character, Barclay gave into the whole fish sex thing rather easily. Dude didn’t even hesitate. Listen. I know I’m saying this on Tumblr, a safe space for furries and monster fuckers, but Barclay doesn’t seem like he’s journeyed outside of Facebook. It is implied that he and Salt seem to have a kind of deeper bond they can’t explain. They even mention feeling like they have always known each other. I wonder if they plan to explore that idea further. Perhaps there is some sort of timey wimey stuff going on and they knew each other in some capacity lost to another dimension. After all, both Russell Tovey and Gugu Mbatha-Raw have made previous Doctor Who appearances as Alonzo and Tish Jones, respectively. Perhaps they echo throughout time. It could also be a device to bring their characters together in a short time, much like Fifteen and Rogue’s romance was rushed. Either way, I rather like the idea of Salt and Barclay living as the Witch of the Waterfall and the Fish Fucker, respectively.

Aquakind doesn’t take the attack on their person lying down. We’re introduced to Tide, a fellow Homomorpha Sapiens like Salt, who threatens humanity with a plague of rust able to reduce our metal structures to dust within seconds. They demand humanity give them Salt who they view as a traitor for saving Barclay instead of her own people during the attack on the Romanche trench. Should she ever return to the sea, Aquakind will find her and shun her to swim alone forever, like a shark. Barclay refuses to let this be Salt’s fate as he is, by now, rather smitten. They hide away in a warehouse for a bit but they need to keep moving back to UNIT where they can clear up this mess, and hopefully put an end to the war. However, due to the rubbish crowding streets, people now need passes to move about freely. Too bad nobody told this to the kid Barclay and Salt rob for his phone. Luckily, Barclay has Kirby’s second line to contact them. Unluckily, this means dealing with Barbara, who if you recall from my previous review, is still the worst. 

Barbara and Barclay set up a meeting point of which UNIT and the military a well aware of. It’s an obvious trap on top of a bridge, which is possibly one of the worst spots to meet ever, or perhaps not, considering how it ends. With the military working for the baddies and the UNIT soldiers working for Kate, we have a regular old-fashioned standoff with Barclay and Salt caught in the middle. But before either force can mangle the other with a hail of bullets, Salt lets out a deafening trill that somehow doesn’t affect Barclay despite his ears. While everyone is gaining their composure, Salt makes a break for it into the water below with Barclay declaring that he will find her and that she will never swim alone.

It’s heavily implied throughout these episodes that the baddies are devising some sort of super weapon capable of bringing Aquakind to their knees… or fins… whatever. Whatever Severance is, it doesn’t sound good for Salt. I imagine it has something to do with the eggs they procured. I’m worried that the humans will level the playing field to such a degree that Aquakind will need to go back into the ocean until a later date when humankind is more evolved. In that case, I will be very disappointed as it will be yet another Silurian/Sea Devil story that ends in that exact manner. That said, it’s hard to imagine what future Davies and McTighe have in store for us. It wouldn’t be the first time Davies has changed the Doctor Who Earth in a meaningful way. During his first era, he all but confirmed to the general public that aliens were real. It didn’t break the show then, so it’s entirely plausible that Aquakind might stick around in some capacity. But can you imagine a scene set in modern London where fish people are standing in a queue for a Greggs?

The final episode of this series is “The End of the War,” so we know it does end. But can you honestly say, given the recent season finales on Doctor Who, that they will be able to deliver a satisfying conclusion to the war? It’s hard to imagine where this is going without fearing it’s either going to be incredibly depressing or it’s going to disappoint in some other way. Will Severeance cut the hive mind off for Aquakind? That’s what the name sort of implies. Salt was worried about swimming alone, but what about her entire species, cut off from one another?  I have to wonder why they chose to do such a big storyline in such a short number of episodes. Hell, keep with the double billings and give us six. I asked last week why this story. Why the Sea Devils in the ocean? Part of me wonders if it wasn’t Disney trying to appeal to a Chinese audience. From what I have read, time travel stories don’t really go over well in China as it is seen as disrespectful to ancestors. Conversely, stories about water are very popular due to water’s strong presence in Taoism. I’d be interested in seeing how this show goes over in China once it airs worldwide. I know Doctor Who has recently been trying to break into the highly lucrative Chinese market. This could be their moment.

While I worry that the ending may be a bit of a letdown, perhaps nothing worries me more than Russell T Davies’ promise for a stunning post-credits scene. By this point, I, like most of us, have grown wary of RTD’s brand of promotion. He could hold a used diaper in his hands and still sell it like you’ll find something other than poop inside. Judging by Billie Piper’s comments at a recent convention, it’s most likely something to do with her. I mean, really, what else could it be? From what I’ve gathered, The War Between the Land and the Sea is meant to be a miniseries only. So it’s highly unlikely that the post-credits scene will hint at a season two. That leaves us with really only one other thing it could be- the Doctor. If they plan on having Billie Piper come in and say some cryptic shit without confirming she’s the Doctor, I’ll be very bored. More of the same will not tantalise me. It wasn’t even a big deal the first time; in fact, it went over a bit like a lead balloon.

The RTD2 era has a bit of a Batman problem. Billionaire Bruce Wayne uses all of his money to dress like a bat and beat up the poor and insane. If you think of it from a campy comic book perspective, you can root for Batman because Batman is the good guy and the Joker is the bad guy. If you wrote Batman this way forever, you would never really need to question Batman’s motives. But then you get writers like Frank Miller who suddenly want to give the Bat some depth. If you introduce pathos, you must also be prepared to answer awkward questions. You have to question the nature of the hero. If the companions experience PTSD to the degree that they require a support group, then we are no longer in an adventure in time and space; we’re in the thick of it. But is Doctor Who capable of staring into that Charlie Brookeresque black mirror?

My poor boyfriend struggled with this episode. For a bit of context, he’s a very sensitive man. I’ve learned not to show him certain films and shows because his capacity for second-hand embarrassment is so strong that he becomes panicked. It’s not just characters in embarrassing situations, however; it can also be characters that personify his fears and anxieties. A mundane story about an awkward couple fighting killer monsters in a small English village was something he had signed up for. But when the tone shifted to the all-too-real storyline of a toxic male podcaster spewing hate into the world, he felt betrayed. He said, “I watch Doctor Who to escape this kind of thing.” He couldn’t even relax during the massage I bought him for his birthday because the episode had him so wound up. This wouldn’t be the first time Doctor Who has used its platform to discuss real-world politics. “The Happiness Patrol” parodied Margaret Thatcher’s regime with the depiction of Helen A. But when I watched “Lucky Day” with my sister, she similarly remarked, “That made me angry more than anything else.” So, what is Pete McTighe getting wrong that Graeme Curry got right?

Perhaps one of the clearest differences between the classic and current eras of Doctor Who is that in classic Doctor Who, the ones shouting “Exterminate!” are pepper pots with sink plungers and in modern Who, they’re throwing up “Roman salutes.” Gone are the days of allegory. The Doctor is now fighting literal Nazis. But if Doctor Who is now asking us to have these serious conversations, well, then we will start having these serious conversations. The best place to start is the place I always start, by asking whether Doctor Who is capable of handling such conversations. For example, is it great optics for “I stand with UNIT,” to be trending in an era of ICE raids? ACAB, except UNIT, amiright? This is why they needed to give Conrad those ableist and sexist lines. Because beyond being a total dick, Conrad’s greatest crime otherwise is to ask for transparency from a secretive paramilitary government organisation. It’s the MCU problem where the villains have a great point, but they must be stopped because they’re also mean.

This makes sense when you consider this story comes from the writer of “Kerblam!” wherein the Doctor gives a rousing speech about how the system isn’t the problem, it’s the people who exploit the system. If you asked Philip Zimbardo, he would tell you how systems can take good people and make them do terrible things. And he would know. You get the impression that Pete McTighe is a well-meaning progressive who also canvasses for Labour without a shred of irony. That’s a bit unfair, I don’t know him, but I do know his writing, and it’s a bit weird. There’s a healthy dose of mixed messaging that I originally chalked up to the Chibnall era’s first draft approach, but it’s starting to look like a pattern.

When the Doctor and Bel find themselves in 2007, it’s only for a brief moment. The vindicator needs to be calibrated, and unlike the last stop, the only things happening of note are fireworks celebrating the New Year. There are no haunted theatres or dead miners, just a little boy and a lucky 50p coin. It was a relatively small leg of the Doctor’s journey to bring Belinda back home, but a huge moment for the young Conrad Clark, who goes running back to his mum to excitedly describe the magic blue box he just watched disappear. Much like the Christmas special, “A Christmas Carol,” I hate how brazenly they depict child abuse. Having experienced domestic abuse as a child, I really didn’t appreciate having to see little Conrad get smacked in the mouth by his piece of shit mother. I really wish Doctor Who would stop depicting that shit so vividly. This episode seems hellbent on collecting various triggers. Yay escapism?

Conrad grows up to be obsessed with the Doctor and the unknown to such a degree that it starts to become unhealthy. He seems to run a very popular podcast about the strange and unknown. It has enough listeners that people from various parts of the world gladly tune in to listen to him interview Ruby Sunday. But his podcast is also Think Tank, which is poised to expose such things as fakery. So were the people tuning in because they’re into some X-Files nonsense or because they want to see X-Files nonsense exposed? Would his audience appreciate this bold new change in direction or would it be like Watcher’s “Goodbye Youtube?” Furthermore, if someone invited you onto a podcast, wouldn’t you at least listen to it before going on? Wouldn’t the Vlinx spend its days combing the internet for disinformation about UNIT? Is UNIT really bad at its job, or does Pete McTighe not understand how podcasts work?

Conrad meets Ruby after following her and the Doctor through an abandoned department store as they went monster hunting for a Shreek. The creepy mannequins strewn about the scene had me hoping for an Auton story. We’ve not had a good Auton story in ages. Instead, the reference to Autons is a painful reminder of the episode we could have had. In the words of Mystery Science Theatre 3000’s Tom Servo- “Never show a good movie in your crappy movie.” This wouldn’t be the first time we got the Auton bait and switch. Remember when “Praxeus” fooled us all with its swarms of killer plastic? “Lucky Day” joins Praxeus in the newly minted category of "Pete McTighe episodes that I wish were Auton stories instead." Creating a new genre of Doctor Who story? That’s quite the legacy. Conrad overhears the Doctor give Ruby an antidote to the Shreek’s vomit, which marks its prey for future nomming. I don’t understand why they need to mark prey. I get that they want to scare people because it makes them more tasty, but getting eaten is already pretty scary. Shouldn’t anyone suffice? If the person they mark could be “anyone,” why mark them at all? The Shreek isn’t Tzim-Sha, for godsake. They’re not big game hunters. Christ, I’m referencing Tzim-Sha now.

Conrad snaps a picture of Ruby and posts it to social media in hopes that someone will get him in contact with her. But what person would violate Ruby’s confidence like that? As it would turn out, that person is Ruby Sunday. Between Conrad’s podcast and Davina McCall, Ruby is proving to be one of the Doctor’s most interviewable companions. It’s really odd to me that not only would Ruby respond to Conrad’s creepy post, but then gleefully recount her exploits with the Doctor in a public forum. It would appear that, along with goodbye hugs, departing companions must also be debriefed. You just gonna spill the tea, huh, sis? Why not just write out the Doctor’s schedule and a list of his fears while you’re at it?

Ruby warms up to Conrad after he tells her that he’s an orphan. Finally, someone with whom she can share the terrible pain of growing up with a loving family. Speaking of loving family, Ruby’s two mums and Cherry are all happy to see Ruby and Conrad start dating. It’s a sign to them that Ruby is getting over the Doctor. Cherry would also enjoy washing her clothes on Conrad’s abs, but that’s pretty par for the course with Cherry. She’s a dirty old bird and we love her for it. Ruby’s other mum, whose name I don’t feel inclined to look up, is also there. Our biggest takeaway with her is that she’s still there. Sitting. I get the impression that we won’t see these ladies much more in the future. But it’s Davies, he’ll probably have them all come back for some grand finale at some point. Probably when he leaves again.

Ruby and Conrad take a little trip. I forget where, as it wasn’t incredibly important to me. His friends are supposedly there to meet her, but we all know how that turns out. At this point in the episode, I was mostly content to watch a relatively mundane monster of the week story. I had resigned myself to that Pete McTighe mundanity that we’ve come to rely on. This isn’t the guy you give big episodes to, this is the guy who writes benign short films starring side-characters to advertise Doctor Who Blu-rays. Doctor-lite stories are his wheelhouse. I did like that Ruby called UNIT to alert them of signs of the Shreek. It gives us a good glimpse into her current state and demonstrates that even when she’s panicked, she can take control.

The control is just the issue, however. Ruby is constantly on alert from her travels with the Doctor, which is very realistic. That need to control the situation stems from her fear of losing said control. I’ve had people say to me, “Wouldn’t it be great to be the Doctor’s companion?” To which I’ve always answered with a hardy “No.” I had a guy pull a gun on me in the Sunfresh parking lot in Kansas City. It wasn’t an adventure, and I doubt that gun being held by a Dalek would have made it feel any more so. It stuck with me for years, remembering how frail I felt in that moment. The Doctor’s adventures would give you PTSD, there’s no denying it. So if your question is “Would you like the Doctor to take you on a trip in the TARDIS to go meet Terry Pratchett?” Then yes. Yes, I would. I love any number of fictional universes, but there are very few of them in which I would want to live.

After triggering Ruby and UNIT into a full-on panic, Conrad and his army of internet trolls reveal the big ruse that any other secret agency would have known about months in advance. They once stopped a Krynoid invasion, and now they’re getting clowned on by podcasters. Ruby falls into a dimension of montage where the world is shown to turn its back on UNIT. Even Trinity Wells is back to stir up some shit. No Trinity, not you too! I thought Trinity’s new approach from “The Giggle” had more to do with the Toymaker’s influence, but it would appear she’s a muckracker like the rest of them. Et tu, Trinity? Ruby, having done the podcast and the big exposé live stream, has become the face of ridicule. Her only choice is to weather the storm along with UNIT.

The usual UNIT team is present, give or take a character here and there. We don’t see Morris, Mel, or Rose, but we do see Kate, Colonel Ibrahim, and Shirley Bingham. I remarked to my partner that I liked that UNIT finally has a more permanent roster of rotating characters, like it did in Classic Who. For years, they were haemorrhaging Brigadiers, but Kate put an end to that. Introducing the Avengers tower-esque UNIT HQ gave them even more opportunity to establish a core team. So when they introduced Jordan Lang, naturally, I took notice. Sadly for UNIT’s and Jordan’s sake, he was secretly a mole on the inside. I hope after this episode, UNIT took a long and in-depth look at its security protocols, because evidently, it’s super easy to infiltrate.

After doing a background check on Conrad, they learn he once tried to join UNIT but was rejected because his vibes were off. They also discover that his mother is still alive, living comfortably in France. His podcast, Think Tank, has over 80,000 subscribers, which, as I said earlier, is confusing. Even more confusing is how that required a background check when a Google search would have sufficed. Even more confusing is how Conrad's live stream kept going when the Shreek's background radiation causes power to fluctuate. I did enjoy that Shirley got to be the one to call out Conrad about being a tax evader, considering he referred to her as a drain on taxes. In fact, I really like everyone’s reactions to Conrad’s sudden intrusion into UNIT HQ. Kate letting the Shreek out is some shit her dad would have done. And Ruby’s “Go to hell,” line to Conrad was a genuine high for her character. I even said “Fuck yeah, girl,” in the moment.  Hot taser lady indeed.

Because it’s Doctor Who, Conrad is wrong and UNIT is right. And because I’m subscribed to the narrative, UNIT are the good guys and Conrad is the bad guy. But the real-world parallels are so distressing and worrisome that neither Conrad’s comeuppance nor the Doctor’s reprimand feels any sort of cathartic. Having been proven the fool by the existence of the very real Shreek, Conrad has been locked away with his arm reattached, but the Doctor isn’t yet done with him. In a very “Oh shit, dad’s home,” moment, the Doctor invites Conrad into his TARDIS to give him a stern warning. The Doctor’s white outfit gives him an air of mercy, but is betrayed by the ambient red lighting, giving him an enraged glow. As Doctor speeches go, it’s one of Ncuti’s best. He brings a lofty weight to the words that sound like they come from somewhere real within his own experience. While heavy-handed and on the nose, the Doctor says some things a lot of us are feeling these days.

The problem arises in the fact that the speech is totally wasted on Conrad. The Doctor’s words fall upon deaf ears. And while it’s some stone cold shit for the Doctor to clue Conrad into the future of his sad death, Conrad laughs that annoying laugh. The Doctor doesn’t leave him chained up in chains forged in the heart of a dwarf star, he just stares at him with the same irritated disbelief as the rest of us. The look on the Doctor’s face is like Veronica from “Heathers,” when she said, “You don’t deserve my speech.” Because he doesn’t. Conrad is the pigeon knocking over the chess pieces and shitting on the board calling himself the victor. The Doctor may as well have been staring at a blank wall. Whether his revelation of Conrad dying angry in a cell at the age of 49 comes true or not, rather depends on what happens when the Doctor leaves. Mrs Flood, in her obligatory appearance, lets Conrad out of jail, informing him that this is his lucky day.

Following the theme of season two, much of “The Story and the Engine,” is dedicated to exploring the nature of storytelling. In this case it explores the communal and cultural significance of having a place where one feels safe to share. When we join the Doctor and Belinda, they’re in the middle of a well-trodden topic- the Doctor needs to get Belinda home. This is when the Doctor gets the bright idea to take the vindicator to Lagos, Nigeria. The Doctor doesn’t use this as an opportunity to go ghost hunting, instead, he’s respecting Belinda’s boundaries by calibrating the vindicator only. It’s Belinda who pushes the narrative further when she asks the Doctor about Lagos. This is when the Doctor confides in Belinda that its a place where he feels safe to be himself. Belinda understands this from her own perspective and encourages the Doctor to go see his friends at his favourite barbershop, Omo’s Palace.

Before we continue, I would just like to cheekily celebrate the fact that I called it about the TARDIS doing the Doctor’s hair. I’m not saying I’m a genius, but it is kinda wild that just two weeks ago, I mentioned it, and now here it is in an episode. Should I play the lottery this week? I kid, but what this speaks to is that there is a clarity this season between the show and the audience. Clearly the crew want us to think about Doctor Who in creative ways. The show gets that the hair and costumes mean something to a wide portion of the fandom. There are whole theories about how the longer Capaldi or Pertwee are in the TARDIS, the crazier their hair gets. So believe me when I say, it’s not far off for the show to do an episode about the importance of hair.

The Doctor beams as he greets the people selling their wares in the Lagos open-air market. He calls people “Auntie” and “Uncle.” They have special handshakes and inside jokes. I understand the people at Bad Wolf Studios looked into actually filming in Africa, but it wasn’t feasible for the budget. Instead, they brought in consultants to bring authenticity to their fake Lagos set. It’s a really lovely attention to detail. When the set is full of extras, it really works. It feels like a set, but in that classic Doctor Who way. Though when the set is deserted, it does look a bit like the marbles room from Squid Game. Having just sold us on the idea that space is a premium in the marketplace, it’s automatically suspicious just how empty the street is outside Omo’s Palace. Combine that with missing persons posters and a keep out sign, and you’re going to need twelve deadlocks and a panther to keep the Doctor out.

The Doctor enters Omo’s and immediately the vibes are off. For starters, all of the shop’s clients are the men from the missing posters- Omo, Rashid, Tunde, and Obioma. And strangely, while the sign outside says Omo’s Palace, a stranger stands ready to cut people’s hair. Omo has been telling the men about the Doctor, the greatest story he has to tell. When Omo was a boy, the Doctor stopped his village from burning to the ground. Since then, Omo’s shop has become a safe place for the Doctor to come and relax. He trusts Omo, so when Omo encourages the Doctor to sit in the Barber’s chair and share a story, the Doctor trusts that it would be safe to do so. Instead, the Doctor can feel the wrongness of the ritual as the Barber’s cape holds him down as if extracting the story.

The Doctor tells a simple story about Belinda to such a vivid degree that the paintings that manifest on the wall from people’s stories look photo-realistic. The story goes that Belinda was finishing a long shift and was headed home to celebrate her nan’s birthday. However, she catches something in a patient’s symptoms that saves the patient’s life and also costs her her evening with her gran. It’s a very modern Doctor Who story for the Doctor to tell. The Doctor is always going on about the nobility of living a normal life. It’s also a cheeky way for them to throw a brief little Mrs Flood cameo in there. It is a little interesting that the Doctor’s story contained Mrs Flood. It’s almost as if Mrs Flood orchestrated her involvement. What does it mean for her to appear in his story in that moment? And why hasn’t the Doctor recognised her yet? You would think he would notice after Susan Twist. Maybe that’s part of Mrs Flood’s plan. An old lady hiding in plain sight? They’d never do it twice! That’s like robbing the same bank! 

One downside about having ADHD is that our minds wander even when we’re engaged. I’ve had conversations with people where I stop listening to them because they were so interesting that my mind wandered. I kept thinking about their point and they kept talking. I do this with books as well. And I did it with this episode. There were so many profound and interesting moments that I had to rewatch this episode because I kept getting caught up in its concepts. And I do mean caught up and not lost. Never once does the episode lose its central thread, though it does keep some aspects a bit vague. I mean all of this as a compliment. I like that it’s an episode that’s actually about something. And I like that it leaves an air of mystery. I’ve said it often in the past that I love it when stories maintain a bit of mystery at the end. I’m reminded of “The Magnus Archives” or the first season of “American Horror Story.” Two different stories, which I enjoyed thoroughly until they gave away too much information. Sometimes an enduring mystery allows us to keep thinking. Solving a mystery can put too fine a point on things. The imagination has nowhere to go.

Perhaps one of the more enduring mysteries at the end of the episode is why the missing men’s hair grows back after telling a story. I’m in two minds about this. I can imagine a few reasons why their hair grows back, but it’s never fully explained. But part of me wonders if this wasn’t either a muddled explanation or perhaps a missed opportunity. We know from reading the missing posters that the men have been gone for about five years. The youngest of the men, Tunde, was only 19 years old when he was taken by the Barber. Tunde is also a footballer, which puts a bit of a ticking clock on his absence. Every day he’s stuck in the barbershop is a day further from his prime. If the growing of the hair was because sharing their stories aged the men, then it would add to that tension. Perhaps the others take his place to keep him from ageing out of his future as an athlete. It would add an even greater sense of urgency and an element of self-sacrifice. That being said, we understand enough about the hair growth to follow the story. People tell stories, the stories power the big spider vehicle, which causes their hair to grow.

Meanwhile, every time someone enters the shop or powers the spider, the TARDIS lights up all red and klaxxony. I found myself laughing at the way Belinda speaks to the TARDIS. She has no sense of wonder for any of it, and I find that hilarious. I half expected this to be a “The Lodger” situation, where the episode is a companion-lite story by having the companion get tossed about on the very cheap to film on TARDIS set. And if it was one of those episodes, they did a great job utilising Varada Sethu’s screentime because it hardly feels like it. Belinda’s method of tapping the TARDIS console and speaking directly to it surprisingly yields results. I like that the TARDIS listens to Belinda and shows her Omo’s Palace on the viewer. I like those times when the TARDIS relents to the companion’s pathetic attempt at interfacing. She may not talk, but she listens.

Belinda struggles her way through the marketplace. It's a sharp contrast to the way the Doctor weaves through the crowd. In a brief cameo, Inua Ellams plays a stallholder who gets into a brief altercation with Belinda over what appears to be spilled yams. Speaking of cameos in this scene, was that a Space Baby standing outside the babershop? Initially I took her to be a young Abby. I expected it to be a glimpse into how she knows the Doctor. Then I get online and everyone is like "ThAt WaS pOpPy FrOm SpAcE bAbIeS!" Does it mean anything more? The Doctor seemed to shrug it off as his story leaking out of the Nexus. But considering the emphasis on storytelling at the moment, that could still have deeper implications. Kinda cool.

The introduction of Abby with her abundance of food is your classic save the cat moment. She feeds the lads so we know she’s got some good in her. However, Abby kisses her teeth at the Doctor as if unimpressed, but it’s not until later that the Doctor learns Abby and he have a history, though maybe not so much with this incarnation of the Doctor. After learning that Abby is short for Abena, the daughter of the spider god Anansi, the Doctor remembers how they met each other. In classic Fugitive Doctor style, Jo Martin makes a brief cameo where she stands in place of the current Doctor and delivers a single line of dialogue. It’s sort of her main thing. Standing and talking. One day, we might even get to see her do something. This isn’t to say I wasn’t wildly excited to see her. Honestly, the further we get from Chibnall, the happier I am to see her. I was excited by the prospect of seeing what a writer of Ellams’ calibre could do with her. I get why it was just a cameo, but damn, let a girl run down a corridor or something.

Long ago, the Doctor left Abena with her father, where he was free to continue using her as a betting chip against strange men and women. Abena learned to distrust her father and the Doctor, leaving her vulnerable to the Barber’s controlling nature. Having spent the majority of his long life feeling unappreciated as the keeper of the Gods’ stories, the Barber plans to pilot the spider to the centre of the story Nexus, where he will unravel the stories of the Gods, thus negating their existence. If you’ve read Terry Pratchett’s “Small Gods,” then you’ll have a good understanding of the way the Barber operates. The Gods grow strong through our stories about them. People’s faith in the Gods feeds them. Cut that off, and you cut off the life force of the Gods. Cut off the Gods and you cut off people’s capacity to think, to imagine, and to hope. Though considering the Gods we’ve met in the last two seasons of Doctor Who, I’m yet to see evidence of a benevolent God, until Abena.

The Doctor’s honesty toward Abena and the men’s prostrations bring out the true Goddess within Abena. Now it is her time to tell a story. She sets the Doctor in front of her while she weaves cornrows into his hair. She tells a story about how enslaved people once fooled their enslavers by mapping the road to freedom within their hair. They would pass these maps on to others through their hair, and nobody was ever the wiser. Neither my boyfriend nor I knew this, and we both sat there, mouths agape at the brilliance of such a concept. When Doctor Who was initially developed, there was always a plan to use the time-travel aspect of the story to give history lessons. This might be one of the finest examples Doctor Who teaching history. Not only was it fascinating to learn, but it also plays into the story. I can’t stress how much I loved this. Incredible.

The Doctor and Belinda follow the Doctor’s hair through a labyrinth in the back of the shop to make their way to the engine of the spider vehicle. The engine looked like a cross between a baobab tree and something Delia Deetz would have sculpted. It also reminded me of the TARDIS’ architectural reconfiguration system from “Journey to the Centre of the TARDIS.” I find it interesting that there is so much machinery and tech surrounding the Gods in this episode. As Gods go, this use of technology evokes the Thor movies over fire and brimstone, and not just because the Doctor namedrops the Thor movies. It makes me wonder if perhaps none of these “Gods,” are as magical as “The Wild Blue Yonder” would imply. Instead, it feels more like Arthur C Clarke’s idea that any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic.

The engine sits surrounded by relics of every world religion. There are books and televisions feeding stories to the story engine. The Doctor lights up the machine with the six-word story of his life- “I live. I die. I live.” The life cycle of a Time Lord. It is now apparent why the Doctor told such a pedestrian story with Belinda’s life-saving moment at work. The totality of the Doctor’s lives flickers across the screens in the typical montage of past Doctors. The Barber is excited by this surge of power to his engine, but it’s too much power for the vehicle to withstand. Oddly, it was Belinda who delivered this information. I was left scratching my head as to how she would know the engine was about to blow. That felt like more of a line for the Doctor. I guess they realised Belinda hadn’t spoken in some time. With things about to blow, the Barber’s only option is to evacuate Omo’s Palace with haste. I found the destruction of the vehicle a bit strange. The spider never comes off as a menacing creature, but as it explodes and tries in vain to claw its way out of the shop, it feels like more of a villain than a vehicle. Appropriately, the clip the engine room played of the Ninth Doctor from “The Doctor Dances,” was precisely the one this final escape brought to mind. “Just this once, everybody lives.”

When I watched this episode with my sister, she expressed surprise at the mercy shown to the Barber. But when you think of it, the last time someone kidnapped a person for a five-year journey was “Gridlock,” and Milo and Cheen weren’t evil, just desperate. The Doctor forgives Omo, who also forgives the Barber. Omo even gifts him the barbershop and his father’s name, Adétòkunbo. Omo has more important things than cutting hair, like meeting up with the girl in the blue earrings from his photo. It’s an uplifting ending that I hadn’t expected. But it’s heartening to see that not only is Doctor Who becoming more of a space for diverse voices, but one that allows for those voices to express joy. I don’t want to watch trans stories where trans people overcome death and oppression. I can read the news for that. I want to see trans people befriend the Meep. Black fans deserve these moments in Doctor Who without also having to give a pound of flesh.