Thirteen Faces

Stuart Ian Burns, on “The Name of the Doctor”:

Moffat’s handling of the Doctor’s darkness is equally muscular. Notice how, when listing his vanquished, those bathed in blood, Solomon the Trader is included. Remember how annoyed some of us were about his death, how it seemed to be in cold blood, how it was somehow, along with his approach in A Town Called Mercy, an indication of there being something wrong with him. Well, Mr G Intelligence seems to be suggesting here that it’s just him. That’s just the way he his. He’s The (Oncoming) Storm, The Beast, The Valeyard. Even in these earlier incarnations he’s capable of the inhuman, the morally ambiguous. Unless you’re under his protection.

And John Hurt’s Doctor is likely the physical manifestation of this darkness. Is he the one who did not have control? Or did he have no one under his protection?

Mark, a.k.a. Carlisle Who Fan, reviews “The Name of the Doctor”:

Something that surprised me was the level of misapprehension on Twitter (I have no idea why that would still surprise me about Twitter) of the episode’s ending. Ranging from those who thought the Doctor’s name was John Hurt(!), or that he’s a future incarnation, to those feeling ‘betrayed’ and ‘lied to’ because the normally completely watertight continuity of Doctor Who has been compromised. There are eleven Doctors, but one incarnation of this Time Lord was not ‘the Doctor’, which is an assumed name, or, as he says here, a promise. That’s a brilliant concept, and what the episode title is really getting at. In fairness, it doesn’t even go as far as the mind-bending contest scene in The Brain of Morbius, which shows pre-Hartnell incarnations. Most fans choose to read these are incarnations of Morbius, but the production team’s intention is that the faces are those of the Doctor, and this is very clear from watching the scene. It doesn’t do the series any good if everything that went before is sacrosanct and immutable.

The introduction of John Hurt’s Doctor is one of the few moments where Doctor Who’s earlier stories will now be re-read differently.¹ Before, we would see the ninth Doctor as a war veteran with post-traumatic stress. Now (depending on who Hurt’s Doctor really is), the ninth Doctor is the positive side of a man. He is a man struggling to turn away from his old, negative self.

Matt Rogers and Phil Sandifer discuss “The Name of the Doctor”:

Mac: When they reach the Doctor’s body it’s actually a vortex of light in the ruined TARDIS control room. The way the Doctor describes it - “Time travel is damage… that is the scar-tissue of my journey through the universe” - is fascinating.

Phil: It gets at what is, for me, one of the basic themes of Doctor Who. The Doctor is weird and chaotic, and his very existence opposes the boring, normal order of things - it’s literally a wound on the idea of normality. Which is just perfect, really.

Charlie Jane Anders on what she considers the central problem with Steven Moffat’s Doctor Who:

And there’s one huge, glaring problem with Moffat’s approach, that makes Doctor Who smaller and less amazing. A problem, in fact, that’s endemic in a lot of heroic stories these days.

It’s all about the Doctor

Moffat’s Doctor Who is all about the Doctor and his impact on the universe. His story arcs are all about how the Doctor affects people, and the endless debate over whether his crusade to save the universe has gone too far, or turned him into an egomaniac. (And maybe, whether the Doctor has created his opponents, the same way Christopher Nolan’s Batman creates the Joker.)

This is very much a continuation of Russell T Davies’s run with Doctor Who. Consider how the Doctor affects his friends like Rose and strangers such as L.I.N.D.A. in “Love and Monsters”. Moffat has taken this further.

Every important character in Moffat’s Who, both heroes and villains, is obsessed with, and shaped by, the Doctor. In particular, the over-arching plot of all three seasons of Moffat’s Who has been about whether the Doctor will speak his name, and different villains who want to prevent him doing that. (And at the basis of that plot is the idea that the Doctor’s name, in itself, is of massive significance to the entire cosmos.)

As Anders summarises:

Making the Doctor big ends up making him small

Erika Ensign discusses Clara in her comments on “Nightmare in Silver:

Another touch I loved was when the Doctor returns, partially Cybernized, and says he has bad news. Clara immediately points the big Cyber-gun at him. Subtle bits like that are why I scoff at the Clara-haters. I’ve seen folks say they think she’s bland and boring. I beg to differ. She’s not a collection of quirks, she’s a realistic person who behaves in a consistent manner. “Characteristics” do not equal “characterization.” Clara has few of the former, and crap-tons of the latter. The show has a long history of providing role models for young girls (and boys!). I think if I was still a young’un, Clara would be the companion I’d’ve gravitated to. I’ve always been drawn to the companions who are less caricatures and more characters.

I would suggest that Clara is the companion who is the strongest role model since Rose, though she hasn’t had enough opportunity to develop yet.

Ensign continues:

She’s incredibly quick, but as we discussed, she’s not infallible. Another example is when Mr. Clever says the kids’ve got a better chance at getting out of there alive, and Clara immediately twigs. “Which one of you said that?” But then later, she rattles off their weapon strength without bothering to check to whom she’s speaking. She’s smart enough not to hand over the detonator, but not wise enough to stay out of arm’s reach. It’s rare to get that sort of realistic balance in a tv character. So often when someone’s clever, they’re always clever—so much so that it becomes tiresome.

Simon Brew provides some thoughts on the series 7 finale:

Perhaps the most interesting thing we found about the 40 minutes of The Name Of The Doctor that we saw was its willingness to answer questions. Furthermore, its willingness to answer questions without over confusing things.

But will any questions be answered with another question?

Rod Smedley previews “The Name of the Doctor”:

But let’s not focus on the end and what might be - ‘The Name of The Doctor’ does enough of that. Instead let’s talk about beginnings. For even before the titles throw us down the time vortex and into 45 minutes of thematic and literal darkness, Steven Moffat brings us a sequence of momentous eulogistic ambition that ties in with the funereal atmosphere of the episode. It’s two minutes destined to be replayed on its own time-loop by fans of all ages. More than that, it proves exactly why you should be relieved that The Moff is at the helm for Doctor Who’s 50th year. It’s almost as if he’s as interested in our timeline of experience as fans as much as he is in The Doctor’s.

Ah yes, The Doctor… Doctor who?

Throughout his tenure on the show Moffat has built upon this great question, robed it in prophecy and portent, had it spoken by blue heads in boxes and scary chewing-gum faced aliens. But now, at the moment when it may be uttered (and whether it is or isn’t, we ain’t telling!) he makes us realise, or at least remember, that the answer doesn’t really matter to us. In the end, it’s not the name we truly care about, but the man behind it.

Patrick Mulkern previews “The Name of the Doctor”:

This is a truly momentous episode in the history of Doctor Who, which will surely have Steven Moffat’s fellow writers shrivelling with jealousy – he can make and break the rules of the game and always deals himself the best hand. Fans, meanwhile, will be blinking with astonishment and hastily rewinding their recordings.

Before series 7B began, Steven Moffat previewed “The Name of the Doctor” in The Radio Times:

Oh, I think I’ll hold on to the title of this one just a little longer. There’s going to be a revelation. I’m not teasing. I’m not wrong-footing you — you’re about to learn something about the doctor that you never knew before. And I think you’re in for a shock.

The title is now known. But what does it mean?