From the moment Matt emerged from the smoking TARDIS and walked straight into a tree, he was the Doctor. His physical performance easily stood out from his recent predecessors: Eccleston was a tiger, and Tennant was, well, Tigger. Smith reminded me of an uncoordinated housecat who pretends that he meant to do that after falling off a piece of
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LOL.
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BWAHAHAHA!
Both of the above remind me of a letter from Steven Moffat in DW mag#419 where he waxes poetical on this very issue of Matt Smith's problems with coordination:
"...Terrifying Fact Number two, is that I've just watched Matt Smith carrying a flaming torch on screen...Look, Matt's lovely, he's a magnificent, brand new, hilarious, heartbreaking, heroic Doctor--but the fact is, if that man walks into a room with a coffee then it's only so long before you're wearing it. No, really, clumsiest man on Earth. He walks like he's in a constant state of surprise at his own limbs..."
He goes on to talk about a debacle with a guitar and some coffee at a readthrough and then the torch scene (which ends up to be from Pandorica) and Moffat worries that Matt will set fire to all of Wales!
Matt Smith, Mister Magoo?
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It was a surprisingly apt comparison too!
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