to the shock of no one more than myself, I ended up defending how much I loved 7.02 on tumblr
I've never been shy about discussing my disdain for Moffat on tumblr; apparently one of my queued posts was one too many for an anon, who then pointed out:
You do realize Moffat didn't even write Dinosaurs on a Spaceship, right? He doesn't write /every/ episode. Honestly, just stop watching the show if you're going to complain about every little thing in EVERY episode, including ones not even written by him. Pick it back up again when Moffat isn't head writer.
First of all, I’m pretty sure I talked to you about this last week. And if you’re a different anon, sorry I’m annoying so many people but you don’t have to follow me.
Of course I realize that Steven Moffat doesn’t write every episode. But that doesn’t keep him from being responsible for the things that happen on his watch, because he always at the very least okays things and, much more often, actively collaborates with the writers who pen his episodes. I’m not being hyperbolic by holding him accountable, any more than RTD was accountable for his era despite not writing every episode. People blame Joss Whedon constantly for all the heartbreak on Buffy, and he didn’t write most of the episodes, either.
And you know what, honestly? I really enjoyed Dinosaurs on a Spaceship. It was by far my favorite thing Chris Chibnall’s ever written (hey, look, I even know the not-Moffat person who wrote it! Shocking!). In fact, I was kind of delighted.
I loved his exploration of the Doctor’s moral gray area. Because which is more inherently violent: Ten punishing people, as he did the Family of Blood or Harriet Jones, or Eleven allowing one villain to die through premeditated neglect? And why is it somehow worse when the Doctor (any Doctor) allows the antagonist to die than it is when he witnesses the demise of good people every day-like Pompeii, or those incidental companions who never make it onto the TARDIS. When Sir Robert volunteered to protect Queen Victoria from the werewolf in Tooth and Claw, knowing he was condemning himself to death, and Ten just said “Good man,” LETTING him, how is that better?
I loved seeing Amy come into her own and take charge, fostering her own companions in a constructive and positive way. I never thought I’d hear anyone utter the phrase “lessons in gender politics” in this era of Doctor Who, and I certainly didn’t anticipate that I’d actually LIKE what was being said. If this is them trying to respond to fan criticism (like mine), then truly, I commend them. It’s a bit little a lot late, but I’ll take what I can get and I really appreciated the effort. There was a lot said about treating people as objects in Dinosaurs on a Spaceship, and I honestly felt that Chibnall took it in a respectably progressive direction.
I loved meeting Rory’s dad, and I loved that it showed a more proactive, more engaged, and more enthusiastic side of Rory. So often he’s cast as the wet blanket, and to see a) why he is the way he is, and b) that he’s really not that bad after all were both wonderful choices.
And overall, I loved that this episode got me thinking about how sad it is-truly, wonderfully sad, in a way I feel this show must always make me-that Eleven has to keep returning to the Ponds for companionship. Amy was the first person he ever met, and he imprinted on her like a duckling. When he said “You’ll be here til the end of me,” it was a beautiful moment, because she was there for the start of him. Ten said goodbye to everything he knew, cut ties, and gave himself a clean slate. Amy was the first thing to be written on that empty life, and the fact that the Doctor can’t say goodbye to her, won’t say goodbye to her, is… well, tragic. He’s meant to be dead, and his rules don’t allow him to see just about anyone from his first ten regenerations. His life starts with the Ponds, and they’re all he has, and the Doctor will always, always be lonely. Dinosaurs on a Spaceship spoke to that in a beautifully nostalgic way, without straying towards melodrama.
And you know what? I even loved the bickering robots, because Doctor Who should always be a little bit silly, and it’s been a long time since I made a “come on, guys, really?” face like I did when I first saw the Slitheen make fart jokes. I love making that face! It makes me get over myself and keeps me young.
So no, anon, I’M NOT GOING TO STOP WATCHING THIS SHOW. I LIKE THIS SHOW.
You do realize Moffat didn't even write Dinosaurs on a Spaceship, right? He doesn't write /every/ episode. Honestly, just stop watching the show if you're going to complain about every little thing in EVERY episode, including ones not even written by him. Pick it back up again when Moffat isn't head writer.
First of all, I’m pretty sure I talked to you about this last week. And if you’re a different anon, sorry I’m annoying so many people but you don’t have to follow me.
Of course I realize that Steven Moffat doesn’t write every episode. But that doesn’t keep him from being responsible for the things that happen on his watch, because he always at the very least okays things and, much more often, actively collaborates with the writers who pen his episodes. I’m not being hyperbolic by holding him accountable, any more than RTD was accountable for his era despite not writing every episode. People blame Joss Whedon constantly for all the heartbreak on Buffy, and he didn’t write most of the episodes, either.
And you know what, honestly? I really enjoyed Dinosaurs on a Spaceship. It was by far my favorite thing Chris Chibnall’s ever written (hey, look, I even know the not-Moffat person who wrote it! Shocking!). In fact, I was kind of delighted.
I loved his exploration of the Doctor’s moral gray area. Because which is more inherently violent: Ten punishing people, as he did the Family of Blood or Harriet Jones, or Eleven allowing one villain to die through premeditated neglect? And why is it somehow worse when the Doctor (any Doctor) allows the antagonist to die than it is when he witnesses the demise of good people every day-like Pompeii, or those incidental companions who never make it onto the TARDIS. When Sir Robert volunteered to protect Queen Victoria from the werewolf in Tooth and Claw, knowing he was condemning himself to death, and Ten just said “Good man,” LETTING him, how is that better?
I loved seeing Amy come into her own and take charge, fostering her own companions in a constructive and positive way. I never thought I’d hear anyone utter the phrase “lessons in gender politics” in this era of Doctor Who, and I certainly didn’t anticipate that I’d actually LIKE what was being said. If this is them trying to respond to fan criticism (like mine), then truly, I commend them. It’s a bit little a lot late, but I’ll take what I can get and I really appreciated the effort. There was a lot said about treating people as objects in Dinosaurs on a Spaceship, and I honestly felt that Chibnall took it in a respectably progressive direction.
I loved meeting Rory’s dad, and I loved that it showed a more proactive, more engaged, and more enthusiastic side of Rory. So often he’s cast as the wet blanket, and to see a) why he is the way he is, and b) that he’s really not that bad after all were both wonderful choices.
And overall, I loved that this episode got me thinking about how sad it is-truly, wonderfully sad, in a way I feel this show must always make me-that Eleven has to keep returning to the Ponds for companionship. Amy was the first person he ever met, and he imprinted on her like a duckling. When he said “You’ll be here til the end of me,” it was a beautiful moment, because she was there for the start of him. Ten said goodbye to everything he knew, cut ties, and gave himself a clean slate. Amy was the first thing to be written on that empty life, and the fact that the Doctor can’t say goodbye to her, won’t say goodbye to her, is… well, tragic. He’s meant to be dead, and his rules don’t allow him to see just about anyone from his first ten regenerations. His life starts with the Ponds, and they’re all he has, and the Doctor will always, always be lonely. Dinosaurs on a Spaceship spoke to that in a beautifully nostalgic way, without straying towards melodrama.
And you know what? I even loved the bickering robots, because Doctor Who should always be a little bit silly, and it’s been a long time since I made a “come on, guys, really?” face like I did when I first saw the Slitheen make fart jokes. I love making that face! It makes me get over myself and keeps me young.
So no, anon, I’M NOT GOING TO STOP WATCHING THIS SHOW. I LIKE THIS SHOW.