The Day of the Doctor

Now, I say, that was a Doctor Who.

Please bare with me as I do some preliminaries. As some of you will remember, Doctor Who and I had a falling out after the last series, which I felt had dug the doctor who that I knew and loved into a hole and stamped on it. There was no character. There was no depth. And Doctor Who had become something it was ‘cool’ to like regardless of its quality, story or content. So I awaited the 50th anniversary special with a sense of dread, because I feared that it would be the last straw in the way I thought about Doctor Who. It may have been the last doctor who I ever saw.

I’m a Whovian at heart, ever since the first episode I watched with Christopher Eccleston and some frisky mannequins, and that’s why it bugged me so much to see what Doctor Who was becoming. I know a lot of people won’t feel as strongly about this as I do, and some may say that a true fan would stick by it whatever happened, but I don’t agree with that. We’re fans because Doctor Who makes us feel something. So when I see my favourite show being changed to feed popularity, I’m going to have something to say about it. Hence, I was vocal on this blog over the last series about these views, and swore to myself that if the 50th anniversary were to follow in the same way, that it would be the last of my viewing of Doctor Who. I took a moral standing as much as it killed me to do so.

Yesterday was the day of the doctor. The awaited day.

And on that day, Doctor Who was back. It was brilliant. Just brilliant. Everything I felt Doctor Who was missing in the last few series was back in its fullest. The story was incredible, and the moral issues inside it meant something. That’s the key – they really meant something. The character of the doctor was there. He wasn’t just a man in a suit running around eating fish fingers and custard, but he was a man in a suit running around eating fish fingers and custard with a character. With intelligence. With vulnerability. With kindness. It’s the whole point of doctor who. It’s the whole point of the doctor. He’s a man made imperfect like everyone else. It’s not all just fun and games and saving the world, but the consequences of everything and the emotion surrounding it, and the depth of relationships he has. That’s our doctor who, people. And there it was, yesterday.

So, as you can tell, I’m very pleased. I was fangirling all around the house. And you have to admit, there was plenty to fangirl about. David Tennant, for one. Especially the “I don’t want to go” reference which nobody missed. Tom Baker. Yes, please. Peter Capaldi flashing on screen. And John Hurt did a fantastic job. All the other references, I don’t need to mention. We can just sit happily dreaming about them.

The best thing about this one was that all the fans who came in to Doctor Who later because it was ‘cool’ to like Doctor Who and for no other reason, and who I believe (although, it’s possible I’m being harsh- justifiably harsh) were not ever real fans – well, they hated the episode. They were livid. They didn’t understand what was happening. Well. I say. Ha. Ha ha. Hahaha! I know it’s not nice of me, but I don’t take kindly to the following of something because its ‘popular’. And I exclude any of the people who are genuine new fans to the show – I only refer to the ones who’s primary motive for liking the show was popularity.

The episode was incredible. And I thank all the people who made that happen. Who brought it back. I am officially a fangirl again, and proud to be. I can only hope the next series keeps it up, but I have a new found faith for it. Doctor Who has returned, my friends. It has returned! #queldommagedavros