004: Amy Pond and the Narrative that crashed into a wall
I was just considering this and figured I might as well make it one of my 100 Things.
You know, conceptually, Amy Pond's story arc is gorgeous. Here's a girl who everyone leaves and in desperation she hinges her life around someone who most people believe is her imaginary friend. The Doctor then basically fixes her entire life to the point where it's practically perfect in every way, she finally allows herself to grow up, she gets married, she tries to have a family but oh, hey, the Doctor gets in the way of that because once you're that close to the Doctor you're a good thing to use against him. Once that gets sorted, the girl who desperately needed the Doctor no longer really needs him, she needs other parts of her life. But the Doctor is her best friend and drops in and out of her life infrequently and sporadically so that she comes to rely on people and things that are more consistent for her while still enjoying his company. And it turns out, in the end, that it's really been the Doctor who needed her all along, and not the other way around.
Because 11 (oh, dear, sweet 11!)--particularly contrasted to 1, since I'm in the process of watching some Classic Who--is like those who hit a second childhood. 1 is serious like a teenager trying to prove he's mature. He's the oldest physically, but the youngest mentally. 11 is the youngest physically, but the oldest mentally. 11 masks his self-hatred and his darkness and his disillusionment under frivolity and play. He's mischievous and he takes a childlike wonder with so much of what he sees. I was told to watch DW by about five of my friends who all turned out to hate 11 because "he's a frickin' toddler!" Yes, that's why I love him. His coping mechanism is that bouncy, channel-changing, poke-it-with-a-stick reverence and energy as opposed to 10's moping hypocrisy. But 11, more than any Doctor that I've seen (mind, I haven't seen even half of them) relies heavily on his companion to keep him grounded and his main companion has been Amy from the start. He needs that naivete with equal energy to constantly amuse and bemuse and bewilder and if Amy matches the Doctor in anything it's energy. If she exceeds him in anything it's pluck. Just as Donna was going to be with him forever, the Doctor assumed Amy would be with him forever because Amy always kept up. And now she isn't. She isn't there. And he can't cope.
But here's my thing: the way the show actually did all of this is appalling. Amy seems scatterbrained and constantly out of character past series five because no one bothered to figure out who Amy was after that series. She wasn't the same character anymore. All of her damage had essentially been erased, although it was later claimed that she had both timelines in her head. Rory (ugh) is sweet in series five but constantly comes across as a guilt-tripping, shaming, control-freak beyond that. If the focus had remained on Amy--who she is, why she is, how she is--and if Amy's story had been properly built up then Amy's story would be an amazing story from start to finish. However, Rory is so much easier to write, and so the narrative skidded sideways and became Rory's rather than Amy's. Rory gets to make the quips; Rory gets to object; Rory gets to save the day and know the score and be genre savvy; Rory's needs are put first; Rory's desires are paramount; Rory this; Rory that. I find Rory despicable. Rory--a window-dressing of Amy's story--eclipses Amy completely. And the funny thing is, Amy is still the Doctor's touchstone, but now we get to suffer through all of Rory's righteous indignation and manpain at the same time. I thought I'd be happy when Rory was gone--I thought I'd be able to enjoy the show again. But I found that the manner and execution of his exit were so repulsive--particularly where Amy was concerned--that I've given up on the show altogether. I don't think I can stomach any more of the same crap. (I'll also note that Amy and Rory's "romance" never seemed even halfway genuine and I was only aware of it because the writing continually informed me that they were in love, oh so in love, look how desperately in love. And I was like "yes, you keep saying that. Where is it?")
Amy's my favorite because she's the wishful thinking companion. Her power is a power of imagination and tenacity. Her story is one that suggests that the Doctor can drop in on us at any time--past, present, future--and mix up our whole world and make it part of his. So that lonely little girl ten or fifteen years ago? She still has a shot. All of that sadness can go away. That's what Doctor Who is about, for me, is giving people hope--not just in themselves but in the world and in other people. That it takes a time-skipping spastic alien to do that is a bit extreme, but worth it.
But then literally the only series of NuWho that I even enjoy is series 5. You can keep the rest of it.
You know, conceptually, Amy Pond's story arc is gorgeous. Here's a girl who everyone leaves and in desperation she hinges her life around someone who most people believe is her imaginary friend. The Doctor then basically fixes her entire life to the point where it's practically perfect in every way, she finally allows herself to grow up, she gets married, she tries to have a family but oh, hey, the Doctor gets in the way of that because once you're that close to the Doctor you're a good thing to use against him. Once that gets sorted, the girl who desperately needed the Doctor no longer really needs him, she needs other parts of her life. But the Doctor is her best friend and drops in and out of her life infrequently and sporadically so that she comes to rely on people and things that are more consistent for her while still enjoying his company. And it turns out, in the end, that it's really been the Doctor who needed her all along, and not the other way around.
Because 11 (oh, dear, sweet 11!)--particularly contrasted to 1, since I'm in the process of watching some Classic Who--is like those who hit a second childhood. 1 is serious like a teenager trying to prove he's mature. He's the oldest physically, but the youngest mentally. 11 is the youngest physically, but the oldest mentally. 11 masks his self-hatred and his darkness and his disillusionment under frivolity and play. He's mischievous and he takes a childlike wonder with so much of what he sees. I was told to watch DW by about five of my friends who all turned out to hate 11 because "he's a frickin' toddler!" Yes, that's why I love him. His coping mechanism is that bouncy, channel-changing, poke-it-with-a-stick reverence and energy as opposed to 10's moping hypocrisy. But 11, more than any Doctor that I've seen (mind, I haven't seen even half of them) relies heavily on his companion to keep him grounded and his main companion has been Amy from the start. He needs that naivete with equal energy to constantly amuse and bemuse and bewilder and if Amy matches the Doctor in anything it's energy. If she exceeds him in anything it's pluck. Just as Donna was going to be with him forever, the Doctor assumed Amy would be with him forever because Amy always kept up. And now she isn't. She isn't there. And he can't cope.
But here's my thing: the way the show actually did all of this is appalling. Amy seems scatterbrained and constantly out of character past series five because no one bothered to figure out who Amy was after that series. She wasn't the same character anymore. All of her damage had essentially been erased, although it was later claimed that she had both timelines in her head. Rory (ugh) is sweet in series five but constantly comes across as a guilt-tripping, shaming, control-freak beyond that. If the focus had remained on Amy--who she is, why she is, how she is--and if Amy's story had been properly built up then Amy's story would be an amazing story from start to finish. However, Rory is so much easier to write, and so the narrative skidded sideways and became Rory's rather than Amy's. Rory gets to make the quips; Rory gets to object; Rory gets to save the day and know the score and be genre savvy; Rory's needs are put first; Rory's desires are paramount; Rory this; Rory that. I find Rory despicable. Rory--a window-dressing of Amy's story--eclipses Amy completely. And the funny thing is, Amy is still the Doctor's touchstone, but now we get to suffer through all of Rory's righteous indignation and manpain at the same time. I thought I'd be happy when Rory was gone--I thought I'd be able to enjoy the show again. But I found that the manner and execution of his exit were so repulsive--particularly where Amy was concerned--that I've given up on the show altogether. I don't think I can stomach any more of the same crap. (I'll also note that Amy and Rory's "romance" never seemed even halfway genuine and I was only aware of it because the writing continually informed me that they were in love, oh so in love, look how desperately in love. And I was like "yes, you keep saying that. Where is it?")
Amy's my favorite because she's the wishful thinking companion. Her power is a power of imagination and tenacity. Her story is one that suggests that the Doctor can drop in on us at any time--past, present, future--and mix up our whole world and make it part of his. So that lonely little girl ten or fifteen years ago? She still has a shot. All of that sadness can go away. That's what Doctor Who is about, for me, is giving people hope--not just in themselves but in the world and in other people. That it takes a time-skipping spastic alien to do that is a bit extreme, but worth it.
But then literally the only series of NuWho that I even enjoy is series 5. You can keep the rest of it.