still trying to define the season for myself
I've been seeing (and hearing) a lot of comments like, "I wish they'd chosen someone really different to play Eleven/chosen to make Eleven really different; Matt Smith (or Eleven) is just David Tennant (or Ten) lite." I find these comments fairly baffling, in part because I've been reading season 5 as an extended meditation on the fact that Eleven is not Ten.
I would never have described Ten as "that old and that kind," for example; he was "fire and ice and rage." For Ten, the Time War was oppressive and omnipresent; for Eleven, it's a hint here, a "Bad things happened; don't want to talk about it" there. And I'm really enjoying that.
But I also don't think that Matt Smith is playing the Doctor in the same way that David Tennant did. They are both pale Brits with interesting hair, and they...both wear slightly odd clothes? Honestly, I'm out. I don't know, maybe it's because I always saw Ten's frequent streaks of babbling as at least 60% performance; from day one, he uses the fact that he's "certainly got a gob" to do things: to distract villains, to buy himself time, to avoid harsh truths. (As in the last scene of LotTL, when he's trying to act as though everything is fine--"I've always wanted to met Agatha Christie; bet she's brilliant!"--and Martha's going to come with him, even though he knows she's not.) There are times (and I want to say that this happens more often with Donna, but that's just a feeling, probably because I can remember Donna being frustrated with the babbling on several occasions) when Ten seems genuinely carried away by the sound of his own voice, when he starts trying to explain something to someone and just keeps adding provisos and qualifications, but the babbling "set pieces" are usually directed in some way, I'd say.
Eleven, by contrast, is much more inwardly focused: when he babbles, he's talking to himself because that's how he processes; hence the repeated thing where he rudely tells the people around him to shut up because he's thinking. (Ten does this a bit--the thinking out loud, not the "shut up" thing--as in "Smith and Jones," but the payoff seems to be the loud realization: that "Yes. No, wait a minute. YES!" thing that Ten does.) And I think that maybe that definition could describe the difference between Ten and Eleven as a whole: Ten is something of an exhibitionist and a performer--both at once, because he uses the performance of himself to hide emotions, but he's also always losing the mask and showing us what he feels. (This may be because the writing caters to David Tennant's ability to sadface so well.) Eleven is much more private and inward.
The other thing is that Matt Smith plays Eleven as young-and-old at the same time--he hops back and forth between moods in a way that's more genuine than Ten (and I don't mean that pejoratively; it's just that Ten is more deliberate about his mood shifts). I was expecting Eleven to be an old man in a young man's body, but that isn't quite what I'm seeing with him. On the one hand, the show has deliberately identified him with the oldest Doctor by having Matt Smith pull out his library card, with the picture of the First Doctor on it, instead of the psychic paper; and there's that lovely little moment in "The Hungry Earth" in which Eleven says "good lad" to Tony, who is physically much older than he is, and the man gives him a disgruntled look. And there is something a bit avuncular or grandfatherly about the way he relates to Amy at times (kissing her on the forehead, which is dear), or about his attempts to be "cool." ("Bowties are cool," he says, defensively, which only serves to show how not cool they are; or that ridiculously awkward moment when he tries to say "who da man?") If Ten was "geek chic," Eleven is professorial and out of step.
But on the other hand, Eleven's emotional reactions read as very young to me, much of the time. He does have those moments of "ancient and forever" (to quote Tim again), particularly in conversation with his alien antagonists. (Eleven has a slightly paternalistic attitude toward humans in those scenes in particular, a bit of familiar, pat-them-on-the-head loftiness.) But when he's sad, he looks about seven, and when he's upset, he sulks; that's why Amy can twit him as one would a little boy--"Aw, are we Mr. Grumpyface today?"--and it works. And because of that, he's vulnerable to me in a way that Ten wasn't (which is not to say that Ten wasn't vulnerable--but they were often snatched, accidental moments for me). And maybe that's why we've seen him interact with children so often this season, and why his chat with Amelia is so lovely, because he treats her with no trace of condescension: as though he's just as old as she is, and as though she's just as clever and brave as he. He's not acting like an old man in a young body; he's acting like a young man who nevertheless happens to be very old.
ETA: I knew I forgot one. This Doctor apologizes when he snaps at his companions. Yes please, and also, thank you.
I would never have described Ten as "that old and that kind," for example; he was "fire and ice and rage." For Ten, the Time War was oppressive and omnipresent; for Eleven, it's a hint here, a "Bad things happened; don't want to talk about it" there. And I'm really enjoying that.
But I also don't think that Matt Smith is playing the Doctor in the same way that David Tennant did. They are both pale Brits with interesting hair, and they...both wear slightly odd clothes? Honestly, I'm out. I don't know, maybe it's because I always saw Ten's frequent streaks of babbling as at least 60% performance; from day one, he uses the fact that he's "certainly got a gob" to do things: to distract villains, to buy himself time, to avoid harsh truths. (As in the last scene of LotTL, when he's trying to act as though everything is fine--"I've always wanted to met Agatha Christie; bet she's brilliant!"--and Martha's going to come with him, even though he knows she's not.) There are times (and I want to say that this happens more often with Donna, but that's just a feeling, probably because I can remember Donna being frustrated with the babbling on several occasions) when Ten seems genuinely carried away by the sound of his own voice, when he starts trying to explain something to someone and just keeps adding provisos and qualifications, but the babbling "set pieces" are usually directed in some way, I'd say.
Eleven, by contrast, is much more inwardly focused: when he babbles, he's talking to himself because that's how he processes; hence the repeated thing where he rudely tells the people around him to shut up because he's thinking. (Ten does this a bit--the thinking out loud, not the "shut up" thing--as in "Smith and Jones," but the payoff seems to be the loud realization: that "Yes. No, wait a minute. YES!" thing that Ten does.) And I think that maybe that definition could describe the difference between Ten and Eleven as a whole: Ten is something of an exhibitionist and a performer--both at once, because he uses the performance of himself to hide emotions, but he's also always losing the mask and showing us what he feels. (This may be because the writing caters to David Tennant's ability to sadface so well.) Eleven is much more private and inward.
The other thing is that Matt Smith plays Eleven as young-and-old at the same time--he hops back and forth between moods in a way that's more genuine than Ten (and I don't mean that pejoratively; it's just that Ten is more deliberate about his mood shifts). I was expecting Eleven to be an old man in a young man's body, but that isn't quite what I'm seeing with him. On the one hand, the show has deliberately identified him with the oldest Doctor by having Matt Smith pull out his library card, with the picture of the First Doctor on it, instead of the psychic paper; and there's that lovely little moment in "The Hungry Earth" in which Eleven says "good lad" to Tony, who is physically much older than he is, and the man gives him a disgruntled look. And there is something a bit avuncular or grandfatherly about the way he relates to Amy at times (kissing her on the forehead, which is dear), or about his attempts to be "cool." ("Bowties are cool," he says, defensively, which only serves to show how not cool they are; or that ridiculously awkward moment when he tries to say "who da man?") If Ten was "geek chic," Eleven is professorial and out of step.
But on the other hand, Eleven's emotional reactions read as very young to me, much of the time. He does have those moments of "ancient and forever" (to quote Tim again), particularly in conversation with his alien antagonists. (Eleven has a slightly paternalistic attitude toward humans in those scenes in particular, a bit of familiar, pat-them-on-the-head loftiness.) But when he's sad, he looks about seven, and when he's upset, he sulks; that's why Amy can twit him as one would a little boy--"Aw, are we Mr. Grumpyface today?"--and it works. And because of that, he's vulnerable to me in a way that Ten wasn't (which is not to say that Ten wasn't vulnerable--but they were often snatched, accidental moments for me). And maybe that's why we've seen him interact with children so often this season, and why his chat with Amelia is so lovely, because he treats her with no trace of condescension: as though he's just as old as she is, and as though she's just as clever and brave as he. He's not acting like an old man in a young body; he's acting like a young man who nevertheless happens to be very old.
ETA: I knew I forgot one. This Doctor apologizes when he snaps at his companions. Yes please, and also, thank you.