Intro and TL;DR
Hello, ever-lovely fellow Whovians! My e-name is Flight, and I've lurked here for quite awhile now. I first got into Doctor Who properly during the start of Matt Smith's era, so I'm still quite new. However, I've listened to several audios and read many of the books (mostly having to do with Eight, but I digress), so I do believe it's safe to say I've rather submerged myself in the show. I'm still catching up on Classic Who (curse you, Netflix!), though...
As something of a disclaimer, I checked the rules to make sure this was alright; however, if I happened to mis-read or miss anything, dear mods, please let me know and I'll be happy to change/delete this post.
Anyway, after much thought on the latest series finale, I decided to write my thoughts on an intriguing, if frightening, character in the series: River Song. Although she was previously my favorite supporting character on Steven Moffat's run, she unfortunately fell from that position, propelling Rory to the #1 spot. Please note that this is not a hate post; rather than mindless character-bashing, I'd rather have a look at what happened to her to put her in her sad and troubling position. Be forewarned that there will be massive spoilers for Series Six beneath the cuts. I'm dividing it into two parts for the benefit of those who have yet to see the finale. I also feel the need to warn you that there is some serious TL;DR in this entry, and that there's some bitching behind the cut.
When we first see River Song in Silence in the Library/Forest of the Dead, she is a mystery. She knows the Doctor quite well (though not in his tenth regeneration), to the point of knowing his name, and ultimately decides to sacrifice herself so the Doctor won't have to. Her wistful dialogue and the touching voice-over she gives at the end of the two-parter immediately intrigued viewers. (Plus - and this is pretty shallow - Alex Kingston looked gorgeous in that white dress at the end.) Forums were a-buzz with theories, TV Tropes exploded, et cetera. The mystery continued in Series Five after popular writer Steven Moffat took over, with River's flirtatious and playfully smug demeanor furthering the theories and such. But even back then, some viewers just wanted her to get out and go the hell away. Speaking as someone who wasn't in the hater camp, I can (sort of) see why, but I'll leave it to someone who put it better than I could: "If a man always called a woman 'sweetie', claimed a right to intimacy without ever earning it, manipulated her by withholding information, mocked the way she drove, lectured her, and acted like he was better than her at everything while wearing a smug smile all the time, wouldn't you hate his guts? It's not 'turnabout is fair play.' River is not some feminist hero. Sexism doesn't get a free pass just because it's girl-on-guy" - Quote courtesy of Pamela Jones, The Mary Sue.
Now, I don't agree with all of this, but a few of the signs are definitely there, I think. Even so, I still liked her, and despite finding the series 6 premiere to be mediocre, my heart ached for her as she came to the realization that she would never kiss the Doctor again. It was all downhill from here for her, even more than it had already been, and for all her playfulness and flirtations with the Doctor, she would never see "her" Doctor again. This may have led to the rather petty exchange she had with the Doctor in her first appearance:
Doctor: I am the Doctor.
River: (dismissively) Yeah... someday.
Now, this even led me to shake my head at her, and back then, I was quite enchanted with River Song and the always lovely Alex Kingston. But as we see in the series 6 two-part premiere, grief causes us to do funny things. River is dealing with the fact that the Doctor, whom she's obviously loved for a very long time, doesn't even recognize her. After this, she will never see him again. This has the effect of coloring her actions in Forest of the Dead; is she, in addition to saving the man she loves so dearly, also committing suicide?
In the mid-series finale, River refuses to go with Rory and the Doctor in order to save her younger self, Melody Pond. Now, some of us had already guessed who River really was at the start of series 6, or at least suspected, and so the reveal didn't surprise us in the least. Other viewers, however, were caught off-guard, but this development was when many viewers began to look at River askance, so to speak. However, that was not the character's fault; rather, it was the writer's. Even so, the deed was done, and I as well as many other viewers began to doubt a once relatively well-liked character. In Let's Kill Hitler, we discover that River, in the form of "Mels", has been raised by Amy and Rory after all, in a manner of speaking; she grew up with them. I'll admit that I warmed to Mels rather quickly, and watching her switch from brainwashed psychopath to the beginning of River Song was quite interesting. However, the epilogue shows us enrolling in a prestigious university. Wonderful! More character development! Except... she explicitly states that her purpose for wanting to attend is the fact that she's "looking for a good man."
Let that sink in for a moment. What we've seen of River/Melody's development has all been centered around the Doctor. But, again, that's not necessarily her fault; she's been brainwashed her whole life, and she's only just beginning to try and live separately from all that. Studying on her own in a difficult field might just be what she needs to separate herself from everything that happened in her screwed-up childhood.
Except she never does, as we see later in her timeline.
Aaaaand here comes the freight train (i.e. the major, not-so-old spoilers). Reader beware, and read at your own risk.
Then came the "epilogue" of Closing Time. The Doctor decides to gracefully accept his death and after bidding a bemused (but nonetheless grateful) few humans a warm farewell, our viewpoint switches to the newly-graduated River, sitting alone and - we assume - trying to figure out a way around the Doctor's imminent death. This is all very well and good; the Doctor is a hero to countless beings in the universe. He's a good person, and good people should be preserved, shouldn't they? Unfortunately, River's ponderings are interrupted by a newly-returned Madame Kovarian, who cruelly taunts River about the Doctor's death and her own status as a slave, right before calling people in to tranquilize her and stick her in the astronaut suit we saw in the premiere. The way this is done is heartbreaking; River's struggles and screams only serve to underline the hopelessness of the situation, and now we can only hope that the Doctor finds some way out of this - except he seems to have accepted his fate. (Applause, by the way, to Alex Kingston for acting this out so well; I was in tears by the end of this.)
Cue The Wedding of River Song. When I first saw this title, I cringed. Then again, The Doctor's Wife was not about who many of us thought it would be - it was about the TARDIS, the ultimate companion, rather than River - so perhaps this title will be misleading as well, or hide another side of the story. In this episode, we discover that River defying a fixed point has resulted in time breaking, for lack of a better word. Everything is happening at once, and time is permanently frozen at 5:02 pm on April 22, 2011. The Doctor, meanwhile, is hard at work tracking down River and trying to undo the damage she's done to the universe, but she defiantly resists him, every time. And here is where it all sinks in.
River's actions, we learn, are horrifying. Not only is time already broken, it's disintegrating. Every single thing, including time, galaxies, and waffles, will suffer horribly before finally coming undone. Naturally, the Doctor is just as taken aback as the audience is presumed to be, and though his previous attempts have resulted in him being restrained, he's more determined than ever to stop all this. But River, as it turns out, makes quite a good point:
River: You've decided that the universe is better off without you, but the Universe doesn't agree.
As it turns out, she's sent out a distress signal to pretty much the whole of creation, letting everyone know that the Doctor is in trouble and asking for help. The universe's response, naturally, is "Of course! Of course we'll help!" The Doctor, who's helped countless people, saved unknown civilizations and treated just about everyone he comes across with kindness (barring certain exceptions), is not without friends - and those friends want nothing more than to help. However, this doesn't chance the fact that soon, everything will die horribly - if anything will even be allowed to die at all. You see, River's shining moment of a much-needed and heartwarming truth is soon overshadowed by this:
The Doctor: River, no one can help me. A fixed point has been altered. Time is disintegrating.
River: I can't let you die!
The Doctor: I have to die!
River: Shut up! I can't let you die - without knowing you are loved - by so many and so much - and no one more than me.
No one more than me. Haven't we already established that the TARDIS, who is the only known entity left who has known the Doctor for the entirety of his travels, is sentient? Surely she must love him more than River, who barely even knows the Doctor at this point. However, this is arguable, to say the least, and River is obviously not thinking clearly, given the horrible position she has found herself in. Even being as emotionally distraught (and really, who wouldn't be?) as she is, however, doesn't excuse her from what happens next:
The Doctor: River, you and I know what this means. We are Ground Zero of an explosion that will engulf all reality. Billions on billions will suffer and die.
River: I'll suffer, if I have to kill you.
The Doctor: More than every living thing in the universe?
River: Yes.
Here, at last, we see just what River's thinking. River is putting herself before every single thing in the universe. She is damning everything and everyone to the most horrible fate imaginable - and I do mean everyone, including her parents and even the Doctor, the man who she is trying so desperately to save. She has a chance to look at what she's doing, and she's not only steadfastly refusing to see what's truly going on, she's turning her back on everyone else, even on a personal level: the friends she's made at the academy, the professors who have taught her, even her mother and father, who have already been terribly grieved by having their child stolen from them and turned into a weapon. The Doctor's thoroughly disgusted reaction says it all:
The Doctor: You embarrass me.
Perhaps this is the turning point, the part where the Doctor takes it upon himself to show River just what is wrong with her twisted way of thinking. She may yet turn around. Better yet, what if it's her parents who will tell her to knock it off, that whatever she may feel ultimately pales in comparison to what she'll cause everyone else to feel? But no. Aside from a brief calling out, nothing comes of it, at least not in this episode. The Doctor marries River and tells her to look into his eye (instead of, perhaps, telling her that to begin with), and they seal the marriage with a kiss.
And that was the part where I swore at the screen, I'm ashamed and amused to admit. River goes into prison for the Doctor's "murder", something which is obviously not her fault (although she breaks out on a regular basis - not just for emergencies, but things like hair appointments, as seen in a deleted scene), and stopping time, which was her fault, goes unpunished and apparently forgotten. The Doctor strolls off, presumably for his wedding night, and all is well. Except it's not. None of the characters have really learned anything, and the culprit - who should have at least been forced to face the music - gets rewarded for her appalling actions via marriage to the very man she's obsessed with. And as we see in her "later" appearances, she never truly grows out of that phase. It's tragic, and it's frankly a little nauseating to see a previously-strong and independent female character essentially become reduced to nothing more than the eternally-waiting girlfriend.
To be fair to Steven Moffat , this may be a case of Sophomore Syndrome: where the second major piece of work from an artist is decidedly lacking, compared to the first. Russel T. Davies also suffered from this, according to some: the second series of the new Doctor Who left much to be desired, in the eyes of many fans, with sloppy writing and a string of mediocre episodes, albeit with some bright points still shining through. This is only Moffat's second series as head of Doctor Who, and perhaps he only did this in order to get River's story out of the way, so he could focus on more of the Doctor's individual struggles. Perhaps River's punishment and well-deserved character development will be stretched out through her other appearances - but as things currently stand, things aren't looking too good in that department.
However, if one looks at the theory that River essentially running into the Doctor backwards as her punishment from time itself, the whole situation becomes a little easier to swallow. Since no one close to her really thought to force River to look at herself and what she was doing, it seems only fitting that the (potential) entity she screwed over the most to get what she wants is what forcefully separates her from her obsession, thereby causing her the very pain - separation from the Doctor - she first sought to avoid.
As something of a disclaimer, I checked the rules to make sure this was alright; however, if I happened to mis-read or miss anything, dear mods, please let me know and I'll be happy to change/delete this post.
Anyway, after much thought on the latest series finale, I decided to write my thoughts on an intriguing, if frightening, character in the series: River Song. Although she was previously my favorite supporting character on Steven Moffat's run, she unfortunately fell from that position, propelling Rory to the #1 spot. Please note that this is not a hate post; rather than mindless character-bashing, I'd rather have a look at what happened to her to put her in her sad and troubling position. Be forewarned that there will be massive spoilers for Series Six beneath the cuts. I'm dividing it into two parts for the benefit of those who have yet to see the finale. I also feel the need to warn you that there is some serious TL;DR in this entry, and that there's some bitching behind the cut.
When we first see River Song in Silence in the Library/Forest of the Dead, she is a mystery. She knows the Doctor quite well (though not in his tenth regeneration), to the point of knowing his name, and ultimately decides to sacrifice herself so the Doctor won't have to. Her wistful dialogue and the touching voice-over she gives at the end of the two-parter immediately intrigued viewers. (Plus - and this is pretty shallow - Alex Kingston looked gorgeous in that white dress at the end.) Forums were a-buzz with theories, TV Tropes exploded, et cetera. The mystery continued in Series Five after popular writer Steven Moffat took over, with River's flirtatious and playfully smug demeanor furthering the theories and such. But even back then, some viewers just wanted her to get out and go the hell away. Speaking as someone who wasn't in the hater camp, I can (sort of) see why, but I'll leave it to someone who put it better than I could: "If a man always called a woman 'sweetie', claimed a right to intimacy without ever earning it, manipulated her by withholding information, mocked the way she drove, lectured her, and acted like he was better than her at everything while wearing a smug smile all the time, wouldn't you hate his guts? It's not 'turnabout is fair play.' River is not some feminist hero. Sexism doesn't get a free pass just because it's girl-on-guy" - Quote courtesy of Pamela Jones, The Mary Sue.
Now, I don't agree with all of this, but a few of the signs are definitely there, I think. Even so, I still liked her, and despite finding the series 6 premiere to be mediocre, my heart ached for her as she came to the realization that she would never kiss the Doctor again. It was all downhill from here for her, even more than it had already been, and for all her playfulness and flirtations with the Doctor, she would never see "her" Doctor again. This may have led to the rather petty exchange she had with the Doctor in her first appearance:
Doctor: I am the Doctor.
River: (dismissively) Yeah... someday.
Now, this even led me to shake my head at her, and back then, I was quite enchanted with River Song and the always lovely Alex Kingston. But as we see in the series 6 two-part premiere, grief causes us to do funny things. River is dealing with the fact that the Doctor, whom she's obviously loved for a very long time, doesn't even recognize her. After this, she will never see him again. This has the effect of coloring her actions in Forest of the Dead; is she, in addition to saving the man she loves so dearly, also committing suicide?
In the mid-series finale, River refuses to go with Rory and the Doctor in order to save her younger self, Melody Pond. Now, some of us had already guessed who River really was at the start of series 6, or at least suspected, and so the reveal didn't surprise us in the least. Other viewers, however, were caught off-guard, but this development was when many viewers began to look at River askance, so to speak. However, that was not the character's fault; rather, it was the writer's. Even so, the deed was done, and I as well as many other viewers began to doubt a once relatively well-liked character. In Let's Kill Hitler, we discover that River, in the form of "Mels", has been raised by Amy and Rory after all, in a manner of speaking; she grew up with them. I'll admit that I warmed to Mels rather quickly, and watching her switch from brainwashed psychopath to the beginning of River Song was quite interesting. However, the epilogue shows us enrolling in a prestigious university. Wonderful! More character development! Except... she explicitly states that her purpose for wanting to attend is the fact that she's "looking for a good man."
Let that sink in for a moment. What we've seen of River/Melody's development has all been centered around the Doctor. But, again, that's not necessarily her fault; she's been brainwashed her whole life, and she's only just beginning to try and live separately from all that. Studying on her own in a difficult field might just be what she needs to separate herself from everything that happened in her screwed-up childhood.
Except she never does, as we see later in her timeline.
Aaaaand here comes the freight train (i.e. the major, not-so-old spoilers). Reader beware, and read at your own risk.
Then came the "epilogue" of Closing Time. The Doctor decides to gracefully accept his death and after bidding a bemused (but nonetheless grateful) few humans a warm farewell, our viewpoint switches to the newly-graduated River, sitting alone and - we assume - trying to figure out a way around the Doctor's imminent death. This is all very well and good; the Doctor is a hero to countless beings in the universe. He's a good person, and good people should be preserved, shouldn't they? Unfortunately, River's ponderings are interrupted by a newly-returned Madame Kovarian, who cruelly taunts River about the Doctor's death and her own status as a slave, right before calling people in to tranquilize her and stick her in the astronaut suit we saw in the premiere. The way this is done is heartbreaking; River's struggles and screams only serve to underline the hopelessness of the situation, and now we can only hope that the Doctor finds some way out of this - except he seems to have accepted his fate. (Applause, by the way, to Alex Kingston for acting this out so well; I was in tears by the end of this.)
Cue The Wedding of River Song. When I first saw this title, I cringed. Then again, The Doctor's Wife was not about who many of us thought it would be - it was about the TARDIS, the ultimate companion, rather than River - so perhaps this title will be misleading as well, or hide another side of the story. In this episode, we discover that River defying a fixed point has resulted in time breaking, for lack of a better word. Everything is happening at once, and time is permanently frozen at 5:02 pm on April 22, 2011. The Doctor, meanwhile, is hard at work tracking down River and trying to undo the damage she's done to the universe, but she defiantly resists him, every time. And here is where it all sinks in.
River's actions, we learn, are horrifying. Not only is time already broken, it's disintegrating. Every single thing, including time, galaxies, and waffles, will suffer horribly before finally coming undone. Naturally, the Doctor is just as taken aback as the audience is presumed to be, and though his previous attempts have resulted in him being restrained, he's more determined than ever to stop all this. But River, as it turns out, makes quite a good point:
River: You've decided that the universe is better off without you, but the Universe doesn't agree.
As it turns out, she's sent out a distress signal to pretty much the whole of creation, letting everyone know that the Doctor is in trouble and asking for help. The universe's response, naturally, is "Of course! Of course we'll help!" The Doctor, who's helped countless people, saved unknown civilizations and treated just about everyone he comes across with kindness (barring certain exceptions), is not without friends - and those friends want nothing more than to help. However, this doesn't chance the fact that soon, everything will die horribly - if anything will even be allowed to die at all. You see, River's shining moment of a much-needed and heartwarming truth is soon overshadowed by this:
The Doctor: River, no one can help me. A fixed point has been altered. Time is disintegrating.
River: I can't let you die!
The Doctor: I have to die!
River: Shut up! I can't let you die - without knowing you are loved - by so many and so much - and no one more than me.
No one more than me. Haven't we already established that the TARDIS, who is the only known entity left who has known the Doctor for the entirety of his travels, is sentient? Surely she must love him more than River, who barely even knows the Doctor at this point. However, this is arguable, to say the least, and River is obviously not thinking clearly, given the horrible position she has found herself in. Even being as emotionally distraught (and really, who wouldn't be?) as she is, however, doesn't excuse her from what happens next:
The Doctor: River, you and I know what this means. We are Ground Zero of an explosion that will engulf all reality. Billions on billions will suffer and die.
River: I'll suffer, if I have to kill you.
The Doctor: More than every living thing in the universe?
River: Yes.
Here, at last, we see just what River's thinking. River is putting herself before every single thing in the universe. She is damning everything and everyone to the most horrible fate imaginable - and I do mean everyone, including her parents and even the Doctor, the man who she is trying so desperately to save. She has a chance to look at what she's doing, and she's not only steadfastly refusing to see what's truly going on, she's turning her back on everyone else, even on a personal level: the friends she's made at the academy, the professors who have taught her, even her mother and father, who have already been terribly grieved by having their child stolen from them and turned into a weapon. The Doctor's thoroughly disgusted reaction says it all:
The Doctor: You embarrass me.
Perhaps this is the turning point, the part where the Doctor takes it upon himself to show River just what is wrong with her twisted way of thinking. She may yet turn around. Better yet, what if it's her parents who will tell her to knock it off, that whatever she may feel ultimately pales in comparison to what she'll cause everyone else to feel? But no. Aside from a brief calling out, nothing comes of it, at least not in this episode. The Doctor marries River and tells her to look into his eye (instead of, perhaps, telling her that to begin with), and they seal the marriage with a kiss.
And that was the part where I swore at the screen, I'm ashamed and amused to admit. River goes into prison for the Doctor's "murder", something which is obviously not her fault (although she breaks out on a regular basis - not just for emergencies, but things like hair appointments, as seen in a deleted scene), and stopping time, which was her fault, goes unpunished and apparently forgotten. The Doctor strolls off, presumably for his wedding night, and all is well. Except it's not. None of the characters have really learned anything, and the culprit - who should have at least been forced to face the music - gets rewarded for her appalling actions via marriage to the very man she's obsessed with. And as we see in her "later" appearances, she never truly grows out of that phase. It's tragic, and it's frankly a little nauseating to see a previously-strong and independent female character essentially become reduced to nothing more than the eternally-waiting girlfriend.
To be fair to Steven Moffat , this may be a case of Sophomore Syndrome: where the second major piece of work from an artist is decidedly lacking, compared to the first. Russel T. Davies also suffered from this, according to some: the second series of the new Doctor Who left much to be desired, in the eyes of many fans, with sloppy writing and a string of mediocre episodes, albeit with some bright points still shining through. This is only Moffat's second series as head of Doctor Who, and perhaps he only did this in order to get River's story out of the way, so he could focus on more of the Doctor's individual struggles. Perhaps River's punishment and well-deserved character development will be stretched out through her other appearances - but as things currently stand, things aren't looking too good in that department.
However, if one looks at the theory that River essentially running into the Doctor backwards as her punishment from time itself, the whole situation becomes a little easier to swallow. Since no one close to her really thought to force River to look at herself and what she was doing, it seems only fitting that the (potential) entity she screwed over the most to get what she wants is what forcefully separates her from her obsession, thereby causing her the very pain - separation from the Doctor - she first sought to avoid.