In Which I Ramble (spoilers for TWORS)
Further thoughts on Moffatt, Rory and That Wedding finale (feel free to look away now)
I can't remember the male term for a Mary Sue, but that's what Rory is.I don't actually have it in for Moffatt as much as people think. I think he's probably a nicer, less tormented soul than RTD. Sherlock rocked, and as far as DW is concerned he does a difficult job with good humour and imagination and grace. Mostly. He's a brilliant writer who is still capable of the laugh-out-loud lines that others can only dream of. That wonderful exchange with Churchill about records vs downloads for example.
What I do find fascinating is how people's fantasies and prejudices will always out, however nice they try to be, and I think there's quite a gulf between the nuanced meanings that well-informed viewers with an academic background will infer from a show, and the overall taste in the mouth that the general punter will take away. When you cut to the opening credits on the words "A Woman" - after you've been witnessing a discussion about how the whole of time and space has gone to hell in a handbasket, it leaves certain impresions behind that could only be described as unflattering to the female sex. Ditto the closing credits (of LKH) immediately following River Song charming a grumpy old professor by announcing that all she wants to do is find a good man. Regardless of who the good man is.
I think Moff probably understands some of his own limitations, and in S6 he was more inclined to get other writers, who happen to be better than him at this sort of stuff, in to do his emotional heavy lifting. Episodes like Closing Time, The Good Complex and The GIrl Who Waited all explored the emotional fallout from the Doctor's lifestyle and the way he sees himself, generally successfully, but they were hampered by a clumsily executed overall narrative arc. Once you find yourself asking if you can believe in Amy and Rory's feelings about their kidnapped child, it opens a door that makes almost any emotional reaction from a character unconvincing, no matter how well written the standalone episode may be. It seems to me that only Gaiman transcended that problem (albeit before the kidnapping of Melody) - and he did so by reaching, with great skill, into the very foundations of the mythology of the franchise.
There are other factors working against Moffatt, also, and I think that taking a break in 2012 will help address some of those. Quite simply, the same old tropes keep coming around, and New Who has been around long enough to make them somewhat tedious. There will always be so the old conflict between the Doctor's need to have companionship and the risks that exposes his companions to, thereby loading him with guilt. There'll always be the spunky companions-that-should-have-been, like Anita, whom you just know are doomed, the "love saves the day" resolutions, the monsters hiding in human form and the looming presence of Gallifrey with all its freight of guilt and nostalgia. It's simply time for a break.
Moff has done some genuinely original and creative things. He's genuinely tried to give the Doctor a companion who is his equal in courage, intellect and strength, He's put a married couple on board the TARDIS and - bless him - given us the pleasing thought of their nights together being filled with what Jack would call (and I quote ralallon here) sweet cross-species love. (Well, maybe. You could argue they're the same species, just about). He's given us a layered, old-style, likeable Doctor who mercifully avoids the emotional excesses of the RTD years and is absolutely brillliant with kids. And when he's at his best, he makes the whole crazy show look like so much fun.
So, please don't think I have it in for Moffatt. No, what really intriges me is how fandom takes all the things that they hated about the Rose Tyler years, in particular, and handwave them away when Moffatt does the same things. I've already mentioned the woman who'll burn up the whole of time and space for love of her mate. And then there's Rory. Finally, I've figured out where he fits in. I can't remember the male term for a Mary Sue, but that's what Rory is. Endlessly kind, patient, sacrificial, heroic, badass when necessary, and yet he's never quite invited to the party. He's always waiting in the background, hoping for the affirmation that never comes. In the end, it's Amy in her badass get up that throws him a marriage proposal like a dog to a bone. We're told she loves him, but it never feels completely genuine. We rarely see an unforced, sincere moment of tenderness directed from Amy to Rory, no matter what he sacrifices. He gets his girl, but he never really gets her; he's doomed to stand at the window, watching the women (his wife and daughter) share a laugh, a hug and a bottle of wine as they discuss the man that Rory will go to his grave suspecting that both women love that little bit more than him. Like Ten standing in the rain outside Donna's house, or watching through the window as Martha is reunited with her extended family, Rory will be the outsider. Women hurt him, thoughtlessly rather than deliberately, but he can't give them up.
And I wonder, deep down, if that's how Moffatt sees himself.
I can't remember the male term for a Mary Sue, but that's what Rory is.I don't actually have it in for Moffatt as much as people think. I think he's probably a nicer, less tormented soul than RTD. Sherlock rocked, and as far as DW is concerned he does a difficult job with good humour and imagination and grace. Mostly. He's a brilliant writer who is still capable of the laugh-out-loud lines that others can only dream of. That wonderful exchange with Churchill about records vs downloads for example.
What I do find fascinating is how people's fantasies and prejudices will always out, however nice they try to be, and I think there's quite a gulf between the nuanced meanings that well-informed viewers with an academic background will infer from a show, and the overall taste in the mouth that the general punter will take away. When you cut to the opening credits on the words "A Woman" - after you've been witnessing a discussion about how the whole of time and space has gone to hell in a handbasket, it leaves certain impresions behind that could only be described as unflattering to the female sex. Ditto the closing credits (of LKH) immediately following River Song charming a grumpy old professor by announcing that all she wants to do is find a good man. Regardless of who the good man is.
I think Moff probably understands some of his own limitations, and in S6 he was more inclined to get other writers, who happen to be better than him at this sort of stuff, in to do his emotional heavy lifting. Episodes like Closing Time, The Good Complex and The GIrl Who Waited all explored the emotional fallout from the Doctor's lifestyle and the way he sees himself, generally successfully, but they were hampered by a clumsily executed overall narrative arc. Once you find yourself asking if you can believe in Amy and Rory's feelings about their kidnapped child, it opens a door that makes almost any emotional reaction from a character unconvincing, no matter how well written the standalone episode may be. It seems to me that only Gaiman transcended that problem (albeit before the kidnapping of Melody) - and he did so by reaching, with great skill, into the very foundations of the mythology of the franchise.
There are other factors working against Moffatt, also, and I think that taking a break in 2012 will help address some of those. Quite simply, the same old tropes keep coming around, and New Who has been around long enough to make them somewhat tedious. There will always be so the old conflict between the Doctor's need to have companionship and the risks that exposes his companions to, thereby loading him with guilt. There'll always be the spunky companions-that-should-have-been, like Anita, whom you just know are doomed, the "love saves the day" resolutions, the monsters hiding in human form and the looming presence of Gallifrey with all its freight of guilt and nostalgia. It's simply time for a break.
Moff has done some genuinely original and creative things. He's genuinely tried to give the Doctor a companion who is his equal in courage, intellect and strength, He's put a married couple on board the TARDIS and - bless him - given us the pleasing thought of their nights together being filled with what Jack would call (and I quote ralallon here) sweet cross-species love. (Well, maybe. You could argue they're the same species, just about). He's given us a layered, old-style, likeable Doctor who mercifully avoids the emotional excesses of the RTD years and is absolutely brillliant with kids. And when he's at his best, he makes the whole crazy show look like so much fun.
So, please don't think I have it in for Moffatt. No, what really intriges me is how fandom takes all the things that they hated about the Rose Tyler years, in particular, and handwave them away when Moffatt does the same things. I've already mentioned the woman who'll burn up the whole of time and space for love of her mate. And then there's Rory. Finally, I've figured out where he fits in. I can't remember the male term for a Mary Sue, but that's what Rory is. Endlessly kind, patient, sacrificial, heroic, badass when necessary, and yet he's never quite invited to the party. He's always waiting in the background, hoping for the affirmation that never comes. In the end, it's Amy in her badass get up that throws him a marriage proposal like a dog to a bone. We're told she loves him, but it never feels completely genuine. We rarely see an unforced, sincere moment of tenderness directed from Amy to Rory, no matter what he sacrifices. He gets his girl, but he never really gets her; he's doomed to stand at the window, watching the women (his wife and daughter) share a laugh, a hug and a bottle of wine as they discuss the man that Rory will go to his grave suspecting that both women love that little bit more than him. Like Ten standing in the rain outside Donna's house, or watching through the window as Martha is reunited with her extended family, Rory will be the outsider. Women hurt him, thoughtlessly rather than deliberately, but he can't give them up.
And I wonder, deep down, if that's how Moffatt sees himself.