Iâm four episodes into the reign of Ncuti Gatwaâs Fifteenth Doctor … well, five if you count the âDoctor Who Special 4â in which he met his companion Ruby Sunday (Millie Gibson) … well, five and a half if you also count the âDoctor Who Special 3â in which he emerged, via the worldâs first bi-regeneration, from the side of the Tenth-turned-Fourteenth Doctor (David Tennant).
In any case, Iâm burrowed into this season of âDoctor Whoâ and as per regenerative usual, Iâm feeling conflicted.
Not with Gatwa, who is an absolute delight; Iâm just in the final stage of grief/acceptance that is required of all Whovians every few years. The previous Doctor â Jodie Whittaker (Tennantâs special-episodes Doctor notwithstanding) â is gone and itâs time to let go and embrace the new one.
Itâs always a bittersweet process. âDoctor Whoâ gives its fans much, but with a lead character who is a regularly regenerating Time Lord, it also asks a lot, perhaps more than any other television series in history.
Every few seasons, the person you have come to know and love as the Doctor is going to be replaced by someone completely different.
Well, not completely different â still the Doctor, with two hearts, the TARDIS, sonic screwdriver, Gallifrey trauma, pacifist leanings and psychic-paper credentials â but still very different. In mien, in dress, in catch phrase and in temperament.
âDoctor Whoâ began in 1963 as a family show designed to entertain and educate by exploring, via time travel, the glories and pitfalls of science and historical moments. William Hartnell was the First Doctor and when his health began to fail, the producers came up with the notion of ârenewalâ (which would eventually become âregenerationâ) to allow him to be replaced by Patrick Troughton but still remain the Doctor.
I have only seen bits and pieces of the original show, which featured eight Doctors over 26 years. Like many modern fans, I began watching in 2005, when it was, um, regenerated by Russell T. Davies.
Christopher Eccleston was Daviesâ first Doctor (the showâs ninth) but for reasons of his own, he only lasted one season. Then came Tennant, who, if pressed, I would still identify as my Doctor. Even with his penchant for fish fingers and custard, it took me a while to warm up to the 11th version, Matt Smith. But soon he was very much the Doctor, bow tie, fez and all. A 50th anniversary special united Tennant and Smith, while introducing John Hurt as the War Doctor before providing a mere glimpse of the next in line. Which may be the reason it took me nearly half a season before I truly accepted the Twelfth Doctor (Peter Capaldi). Companion Clara (Jenna-Louise Coleman) spoke for many when, in her shock at seeing Smith turn into Capaldi, said, âI donât think I know who the Doctor is anymore.â
But of course she did, and so did we. And then, just as it seemed that Capaldi had always been, would always be, the Doctor, hey presto, Whittaker appeared as the 13th.
And donât get me started on the ever-shifting lineage of inevitably engaging companions â I still miss Martha (Freema Agyeman), for whom I watched âLaw and Order: UKâ), and I was so glad to see Donna (Catherine Tate) in last yearâs specials â or the changing faces of that other pesky Time Lord, the Master (or Mistress â come back, Michelle Gomez).
For someone who loves deeply or not at all, itâs a lot of emotional turnover. Particularly for an art form founded on the promise of familiarity and consistency.
Long before âGame of Thronesâ and other modern âprestigeâ dramas began killing off leads in the name of shock and authenticity, âDoctor Whoâ has continued to bend, if not break, the cardinal rule of television: Create characters that audiences want to invite into their homes for seasons on end. Sure, those characters could change â age, face crises, grow (or devolve) â a bit but not so much that audiences did not recognize them.
Can you imagine if James Gandolfini had been replaced as Tony Soprano every few seasons?
While other shows blur the line between TV and film â âitâs like a 10-hour movieâ is something showrunners really need to stop saying â âDoctor Whoâ straddles television and theater.
The Doctor is a character, like Hamlet or Willy Loman, Dolly Levi or the Phantom of the Opera, who exists not to be defined by any one actor but to be inhabited and reinterpreted by a dizzying array of performers. (Many of whom are, not surprisingly given the Britishness of the show, accomplished stage actors.)
The change is part of the showâs magic and delight; anticipation and speculation swirl among fans and the media as each Doctor approaches his or her final season â who will be next in line?
The one-two punch of Whittaker and Gatwa (finally) broke the long line of white, male and presumably heterosexual Doctors. This provoked tedious cries of âwokenessâ from the deeper, damper parts of the cultural cave, whinging made even more ridiculous by the modern history of the show, which has included Black, brown and queer companions galore.
Still, as the first Black and openly queer Doctor, Gatwa is being celebrated for ushering in a ânew eraâ of the series. Overseen once again by Davies, who has returned as showrunner after handing over the reins to Steven Moffat in 2009, âDoctor Whoâ is now a co-production between Disney, BBC and Bad Wolf with a new home on Disney+ and hopes of appealing to a new and broader audience.
Hence Gatwaâs Doctor taking time to carefully explain to Ruby, a young woman in search of her birth mother, all the Time Lord basics, including several references to the first Doctor and his granddaughter/companion Susan (Carole Ann Ford) who may, if you can believe Reddit, become a character once again in this season.
Iâm hoping that Davies will bring back Jenny, the Doctorâs âdaughter.â A clone created with his DNA in Tennantâs day, Jenny was played by Georgia Moffett. The daughter of Peter Davison, who played the Fifth Doctor, Moffet went on to marry Tennant in what may be the best real-life twist of any cinematic franchise ever. In âThe Doctorâs Daughter,â Jenny appeared to die only to revive after the grieving Doctor had left; last seen she was rocketing through space in search of adventures of her own.
Giving the Fifteenth Doctor a very young companion was a smart move and not just in a Disney sense. At 19, Ruby not only harks back to the modern versionâs first companion, Rose Tyler (Billie Piper), she also allows the Doctor to be patiently expository (as opposed to Capaldiâs Doctor who initially referred to humans as âpudding brains.â)
This Doctor also appears to be the most self-aware that we have seen, quickly sharing information about his history and origins (though not, of course, his real name) that previously had to be pried out of him or her. Gatwaâs unbridled exuberance makes this an easy sell and serves as a data bridge between new viewers and old. Mentions of the first Doctor reassure die-hard fans, the appearance of powerful new opponents creates an original shared experience for all.
But still itâs a change and change is hard even when itâs part of the bargain and part of the fun. The Doctor is a magical creature â both singular and universal. The Doctor is very much him/her/themself, but also all of us everywhere.
We are each on an adventure through space and time, we dare to love deeply even though all love ends in loss of one sort or another. Even so, as âDoctor Whoâ reminds us every few years, regeneration is always possible.
It will always look different, wear different clothes, say different things than it did before, but it is love just the same.