Doctor Who XXXII.4: The Doctor's Wife - Happy Families
More of my own thoughts on The Doctor's Wife under the cut; but first a link to Matt Hills's latest Doctor Who post on the Antenna blog, concentrating on how Gaiman's authorial signature is accommodated within a television series which already has an anointed auteur:
Neil Gaiman's Doctor Who: Fan Service Meets the Junkyard Look
The Doctor's Wife offers two contrasting presentations of the family unit. One is Auntie, Uncle and Nephew. The third-person manner in which they talk of themselves and the infantilizing tone of their conversation suggests a dysfunctional attempt at a foster-family, dimly recalling the gentile couple who took in Maureen Lipman's character's sons in Jack Rosenthal's The Evacuees. (More evidence that Time Lords are Jewish, daniel_saunders?) Given that Idris doesn't have a family label, she must be one of many 'strays' whom House has captured, subjected, and kept in a tranquil state until needed, whether as a receptacle for a TARDIS matrix or for spare parts for House's principal toys. There is an echo of Joss Whedon's Dollhouse here, as well as of Gerry Anderson's UFO and the Hitecs of Blake's 7's Powerplay. Yet when the Doctor told Auntie and Uncle that he doubted that there was anything left of the people they used to be, did anyone else think of the Doctor's many physical transformations? House's 'repairs' are parodies of Time Lord regeneration, just as House has preyed on Time Lords and TARDISes but has only attempted to travel through time and space in extremis. House has been comfortable with enslavement in a bubble universe rather than with discovery, and it is the slave houses of the American South which he evokes. Uncle might praise House's benevolence but his hobbling two left feet recall the punishment doled out to slaves who tried to escape plantations, as seen on 1970s television in Roots when half of Kunta Kinte's foot was chopped off.
The other family unit is brought to the viewers' attention towards the close of the episode, though it has been with them for much longer. The Doctor, addressing the spiritually restored TARDIS, asks where they should take 'the kids' next. This move clears away the rubble remaining from the fourth wall, as the kids are not only Amy and Rory but the watching viewers. Back in 1984, in an article for the international edition of Time magazine slightly belatedly marking Doctor Who's twentieth anniversary, Sydney Newman recalled that Doctor Who "was never intended to be simply a children's program, but something that would appeal to people who were in a childlike frame of mind." Doctor Who's mythic 'Saturdayness', to which the current series has invoked, involves an appeal to home and hearth but then challenges those perimeters, extending them vertically (the Doctor's beloved ladders on bunk beds), horizontally (the double bed presumably sought by Mr and Mrs Pond) and across all other dimensions (the Doctor and his wife, in their room, at the end of the episode). Childlikeness is not the baby-talk of Auntie and Uncle, but inquisitiveness and playfulness. House likes to play but it is not greatly inquisitive and it denies that capacity to others.
The Doctor and the TARDIS refute Auntie and Uncle's confining surrogate parenthood by being teachers, playmates, friends, people with more experience of dealing with big questions and who have a reasonable apprehension of how big they might be on the inside, beyond the imagination of House. House can't discover the hidden rooms of the TARDIS, and (presuming that Idris-TARDIS was introduced to the Doctor in the belief that this would cause the TARDIS Matrix to 'break the casing' and so die immediately) underestimated the resilience of the TARDIS herself. Ultimately House lacks imagination and denies the creative impulse to others; the security it offers is that of death. The TARDIS and the Doctor imagine, and offer us the chance to live beyond the physical plane while learning to appreciate this moment of embodiment.
Neil Gaiman's Doctor Who: Fan Service Meets the Junkyard Look
The Doctor's Wife offers two contrasting presentations of the family unit. One is Auntie, Uncle and Nephew. The third-person manner in which they talk of themselves and the infantilizing tone of their conversation suggests a dysfunctional attempt at a foster-family, dimly recalling the gentile couple who took in Maureen Lipman's character's sons in Jack Rosenthal's The Evacuees. (More evidence that Time Lords are Jewish, daniel_saunders?) Given that Idris doesn't have a family label, she must be one of many 'strays' whom House has captured, subjected, and kept in a tranquil state until needed, whether as a receptacle for a TARDIS matrix or for spare parts for House's principal toys. There is an echo of Joss Whedon's Dollhouse here, as well as of Gerry Anderson's UFO and the Hitecs of Blake's 7's Powerplay. Yet when the Doctor told Auntie and Uncle that he doubted that there was anything left of the people they used to be, did anyone else think of the Doctor's many physical transformations? House's 'repairs' are parodies of Time Lord regeneration, just as House has preyed on Time Lords and TARDISes but has only attempted to travel through time and space in extremis. House has been comfortable with enslavement in a bubble universe rather than with discovery, and it is the slave houses of the American South which he evokes. Uncle might praise House's benevolence but his hobbling two left feet recall the punishment doled out to slaves who tried to escape plantations, as seen on 1970s television in Roots when half of Kunta Kinte's foot was chopped off.
The other family unit is brought to the viewers' attention towards the close of the episode, though it has been with them for much longer. The Doctor, addressing the spiritually restored TARDIS, asks where they should take 'the kids' next. This move clears away the rubble remaining from the fourth wall, as the kids are not only Amy and Rory but the watching viewers. Back in 1984, in an article for the international edition of Time magazine slightly belatedly marking Doctor Who's twentieth anniversary, Sydney Newman recalled that Doctor Who "was never intended to be simply a children's program, but something that would appeal to people who were in a childlike frame of mind." Doctor Who's mythic 'Saturdayness', to which the current series has invoked, involves an appeal to home and hearth but then challenges those perimeters, extending them vertically (the Doctor's beloved ladders on bunk beds), horizontally (the double bed presumably sought by Mr and Mrs Pond) and across all other dimensions (the Doctor and his wife, in their room, at the end of the episode). Childlikeness is not the baby-talk of Auntie and Uncle, but inquisitiveness and playfulness. House likes to play but it is not greatly inquisitive and it denies that capacity to others.
The Doctor and the TARDIS refute Auntie and Uncle's confining surrogate parenthood by being teachers, playmates, friends, people with more experience of dealing with big questions and who have a reasonable apprehension of how big they might be on the inside, beyond the imagination of House. House can't discover the hidden rooms of the TARDIS, and (presuming that Idris-TARDIS was introduced to the Doctor in the belief that this would cause the TARDIS Matrix to 'break the casing' and so die immediately) underestimated the resilience of the TARDIS herself. Ultimately House lacks imagination and denies the creative impulse to others; the security it offers is that of death. The TARDIS and the Doctor imagine, and offer us the chance to live beyond the physical plane while learning to appreciate this moment of embodiment.