Post by blaidddrwg on Sept 19, 2014 20:53:13 GMT -6
If you've been watching Doctor Who since the beginning (that is, since 2005), you know the show's writing has taken a slight turn. In the beginning, we had Russel T. Davies when our puppy Christopher Eccleston was the lovable yet justice-driven Ninth Doctor, and boy, what a magical time that was. I mean, the second episode of the first season featured Rose, the newly-arrived companion to Nine, witnessing the burning of the earth at the end of time, existing in a place where everyone she knew and loved were long dead and gone, and she was the last human on earth (well, except for Cassandra, but that's a different story). THAT WAS THE SECOND EPISODE OF THE NEW SERIES. And it was a powerhouse of an episode.
We met the Slitheen, the Gelth, and even Charles Dickens, but even as we were taken on adventure after adventure, the setting wasn't the only thing changing. At the same time, we watched Rose Tyler grow from a young store clerk in a flimsy relationship, into the girl who looked into the TARDIS's soul and saved the Doctor (not to mention KISSED the Doctor, but I should stop now on that subject before I start squealing). Yet we also saw the Doctor grow, too, as he re-assimilated into a world full of humans after the gruesomely disturbing Time War, and by the end of the first season, Nine did not view humans like Rose as "stupid apes" anymore - he trusted them with his life.
Even after we bade a tearful farewell to the superb Christopher Eccleston after just one season, we were luckily left in the hands of David Tennant, who would come to shape the scope of Doctor Who for the next four years as the Tenth Doctor. In his era, we saw even more of a growth in Rose and even her ex-boyfriend Mickey, who stepped aboard as a companion for a little while until making the conscious decision to leave Rose and his life with her behind to pursue a life of his own, a character growth act if there was one. We saw Ten deal with Cybermen, Daleks, and several other monsters not in combat, but in reason. In David Tennant's era, monsters were never monsters - they were misunderstood souls who were on a bad path, and who the Tenth Doctor had a relentless will to change, to rehabilitate. But more importantly, we saw Ten in such powerful moments as having a gun in his hand, an enemy standing right in front of him, and laying it aside in the name of peace. We saw him inadvertently create a daughter, only to watch her die in his own arms. We watched him venture to the center of the earth, stare the devil in the face, and threaten him with his love for Rose and for all humans. Not only did we see companions experience life-changing growth, but we saw the nearly thousand-year-old Doctor grow, too.
Plus, the companions we met weren't stick figures - they weren't bland characters with bland lines and no authority of their own. Rose was the Girl Who Looked Into the TARDIS and who stole the Doctor's heart(s); Martha was the Girl Who Walked the Earth to save the Doctor as well as the human race; Donna was the Most Important Woman, not just an ordinary temp. These companions were just as important as the Doctor and they proved themselves as such in so many ways in every single episode. They were their own people.
All of these truths arose because of Russel T. Davies. All the adventures, heartbreak, and character growth we saw in seasons 1-4 were courtesy of RTD's magnificent writing abilities. He knew how to write characters as well as write powerful episodes to demonstrate his character's strengths, as well as enhance the Doctor's strengths as well. During the RTD Era, Doctor Who was not to showboat the Doctor; it was to show what humans are capable of. Seasons 1-4 were the "Companion Era."
Flash forward to 2010, when we heart-wrenchingly said goodbye to our beloved David Tennant as well as our grandaddy of Doctor Who, Russel T. Davies. In their wake, we were introduced to Matt Smith, the Eleventh Doctor, as well as a new head-writer for the show - a Mr. Steven Moffat. Now if you were not like me and did not watch the last episode of season four one day and the first episode of season five the next, you might not have noticed the major shift in writing. But for me, who was trying to catch up on all the seasons of DW before the "Day of the Doctor" special, you were utterly baffled at the change in tone with the coming of Steven Moffat and probably wondered if you were even watching Doctor Who anymore.
Watching the first episode of season five, I seriously thought I was watching a movie, with the newly-enhanced graphics and gothic scenery of Amy Pond's yard. Surely not the grungy apartment of Rose Tyler, or the hectic hospital of Martha Jones, or the busy temp office of Donna Noble. I knew from the obvious change in scenery that Matt Smith's Doctor Who era was going to be much different from the David Tennant era, and I wasn't so sure if that was going to be a good thing. Now I do give Matt Smith so many props for how he portrayed the Doctor. Stand-alone, he really was a brilliant actor and very consistent in his quirky actions and child-like sensitivity. But add Steven Moffat's writing into the picture, and that's where Matt Smith's Doctor began to lessen more and more into the center of the show, the star of everything whose companions ditched their own lives to worship him.
In the beginning, though, the team of Amy, Rory, and the Doctor was a pretty nice highlight to the show - they were a fresh, new Three Musketeers. But as the show wore on, things became less and less about the lives of Amy and Rory, what their ambitions were, what they wanted, what they thought, what talents they had, and more about the Doctor. Just look at the titles of the shows - in the beginning, in season five, we had episodes like "Amy's Choice"; by the end of season 7, we had three consecutive episodes entitled "Name of the Doctor," "Day of the Doctor," "Time of the Doctor." Everywhere, it was always, as our friend Jan Brady put it, "Doctor, Doctor, Doctor!" Amy's career changed three times (as well as Clara's later on), she and Rory's relationship terminated for one episode, and she was forced to GIVE UP HER OWN CHILD...for the Doctor. If Amy and Rory had one consistent character motif throughout the show, it was that they were married and should soon expect to have a baby. We as viewers were anxiously awaiting that moment to happen. But little did we know that Amy's body was going to be taken captive during her pregnancy, she would be left unconscious, and in the end, she wouldn't even get to raise her and Rory's child. And by the next episode, she was fine with it, almost like it never happened. I ask you: in WHAT WORLD is a mother forced to give up her child and be totally cool with it by the next day? I'll tell you what world - Steven Moffat's convoluted one.
Now, given, Moffat did give us the Weeping Angels, which are now one of the forerunning monsters in Doctor Who, but other than that, all we were left with when Moffat stepped aboard was zero character development in our once strong companions, an egotistic, misogynistic, and inconsistent Doctor, and monsters with no glimmers of redemption - all monsters are bad. End of story. (Plus, he totally got rid of the psychic paper! What's up with that?) I won't even get started on River Song and Clara Oswald, whose existences both revolve one way or another around the Doctor. Not to mention, while RTD had a magnificent ability to write his complex episodes in ways we as viewers can understand and follow along, Moffat has an awful tendency to write incredibly complicated and realistically implausible episodes and add in tidbits of information only HE knows about, but almost expects us as viewers to understand - insights that seems so important, but are underplayed completely. And if we don't understand what Moffat is trying to tell us, it's OUR fault; in his mind, he explains everything so intricately well and his intellect is so vast, that if we can't catch up with him, we basically shouldn't watch Doctor Who.
With that said, I ask all of you - which era do YOU prefer? Russel T. Davies era with Christopher Eccleston and David Tennant, or Steven Moffat era with Matt Smith and, now, Peter Capaldi?
We met the Slitheen, the Gelth, and even Charles Dickens, but even as we were taken on adventure after adventure, the setting wasn't the only thing changing. At the same time, we watched Rose Tyler grow from a young store clerk in a flimsy relationship, into the girl who looked into the TARDIS's soul and saved the Doctor (not to mention KISSED the Doctor, but I should stop now on that subject before I start squealing). Yet we also saw the Doctor grow, too, as he re-assimilated into a world full of humans after the gruesomely disturbing Time War, and by the end of the first season, Nine did not view humans like Rose as "stupid apes" anymore - he trusted them with his life.
Even after we bade a tearful farewell to the superb Christopher Eccleston after just one season, we were luckily left in the hands of David Tennant, who would come to shape the scope of Doctor Who for the next four years as the Tenth Doctor. In his era, we saw even more of a growth in Rose and even her ex-boyfriend Mickey, who stepped aboard as a companion for a little while until making the conscious decision to leave Rose and his life with her behind to pursue a life of his own, a character growth act if there was one. We saw Ten deal with Cybermen, Daleks, and several other monsters not in combat, but in reason. In David Tennant's era, monsters were never monsters - they were misunderstood souls who were on a bad path, and who the Tenth Doctor had a relentless will to change, to rehabilitate. But more importantly, we saw Ten in such powerful moments as having a gun in his hand, an enemy standing right in front of him, and laying it aside in the name of peace. We saw him inadvertently create a daughter, only to watch her die in his own arms. We watched him venture to the center of the earth, stare the devil in the face, and threaten him with his love for Rose and for all humans. Not only did we see companions experience life-changing growth, but we saw the nearly thousand-year-old Doctor grow, too.
Plus, the companions we met weren't stick figures - they weren't bland characters with bland lines and no authority of their own. Rose was the Girl Who Looked Into the TARDIS and who stole the Doctor's heart(s); Martha was the Girl Who Walked the Earth to save the Doctor as well as the human race; Donna was the Most Important Woman, not just an ordinary temp. These companions were just as important as the Doctor and they proved themselves as such in so many ways in every single episode. They were their own people.
All of these truths arose because of Russel T. Davies. All the adventures, heartbreak, and character growth we saw in seasons 1-4 were courtesy of RTD's magnificent writing abilities. He knew how to write characters as well as write powerful episodes to demonstrate his character's strengths, as well as enhance the Doctor's strengths as well. During the RTD Era, Doctor Who was not to showboat the Doctor; it was to show what humans are capable of. Seasons 1-4 were the "Companion Era."
Flash forward to 2010, when we heart-wrenchingly said goodbye to our beloved David Tennant as well as our grandaddy of Doctor Who, Russel T. Davies. In their wake, we were introduced to Matt Smith, the Eleventh Doctor, as well as a new head-writer for the show - a Mr. Steven Moffat. Now if you were not like me and did not watch the last episode of season four one day and the first episode of season five the next, you might not have noticed the major shift in writing. But for me, who was trying to catch up on all the seasons of DW before the "Day of the Doctor" special, you were utterly baffled at the change in tone with the coming of Steven Moffat and probably wondered if you were even watching Doctor Who anymore.
Watching the first episode of season five, I seriously thought I was watching a movie, with the newly-enhanced graphics and gothic scenery of Amy Pond's yard. Surely not the grungy apartment of Rose Tyler, or the hectic hospital of Martha Jones, or the busy temp office of Donna Noble. I knew from the obvious change in scenery that Matt Smith's Doctor Who era was going to be much different from the David Tennant era, and I wasn't so sure if that was going to be a good thing. Now I do give Matt Smith so many props for how he portrayed the Doctor. Stand-alone, he really was a brilliant actor and very consistent in his quirky actions and child-like sensitivity. But add Steven Moffat's writing into the picture, and that's where Matt Smith's Doctor began to lessen more and more into the center of the show, the star of everything whose companions ditched their own lives to worship him.
In the beginning, though, the team of Amy, Rory, and the Doctor was a pretty nice highlight to the show - they were a fresh, new Three Musketeers. But as the show wore on, things became less and less about the lives of Amy and Rory, what their ambitions were, what they wanted, what they thought, what talents they had, and more about the Doctor. Just look at the titles of the shows - in the beginning, in season five, we had episodes like "Amy's Choice"; by the end of season 7, we had three consecutive episodes entitled "Name of the Doctor," "Day of the Doctor," "Time of the Doctor." Everywhere, it was always, as our friend Jan Brady put it, "Doctor, Doctor, Doctor!" Amy's career changed three times (as well as Clara's later on), she and Rory's relationship terminated for one episode, and she was forced to GIVE UP HER OWN CHILD...for the Doctor. If Amy and Rory had one consistent character motif throughout the show, it was that they were married and should soon expect to have a baby. We as viewers were anxiously awaiting that moment to happen. But little did we know that Amy's body was going to be taken captive during her pregnancy, she would be left unconscious, and in the end, she wouldn't even get to raise her and Rory's child. And by the next episode, she was fine with it, almost like it never happened. I ask you: in WHAT WORLD is a mother forced to give up her child and be totally cool with it by the next day? I'll tell you what world - Steven Moffat's convoluted one.
Now, given, Moffat did give us the Weeping Angels, which are now one of the forerunning monsters in Doctor Who, but other than that, all we were left with when Moffat stepped aboard was zero character development in our once strong companions, an egotistic, misogynistic, and inconsistent Doctor, and monsters with no glimmers of redemption - all monsters are bad. End of story. (Plus, he totally got rid of the psychic paper! What's up with that?) I won't even get started on River Song and Clara Oswald, whose existences both revolve one way or another around the Doctor. Not to mention, while RTD had a magnificent ability to write his complex episodes in ways we as viewers can understand and follow along, Moffat has an awful tendency to write incredibly complicated and realistically implausible episodes and add in tidbits of information only HE knows about, but almost expects us as viewers to understand - insights that seems so important, but are underplayed completely. And if we don't understand what Moffat is trying to tell us, it's OUR fault; in his mind, he explains everything so intricately well and his intellect is so vast, that if we can't catch up with him, we basically shouldn't watch Doctor Who.
With that said, I ask all of you - which era do YOU prefer? Russel T. Davies era with Christopher Eccleston and David Tennant, or Steven Moffat era with Matt Smith and, now, Peter Capaldi?