Doc of the new
Peter Capaldi enters the TARDIS, owns it…
DOCTOR WHO: SEASON 8 12
OUT NOW DVD, BD
The Doctor doesn’t hug. His ‘pal’ is a duplicitous thrill junkie. Her boyfriend harbours grim secrets. And the Master? Well, he’s a whole new woman… Showrunner Steven Moffat wasn’t puffing hot air when he pitched Peter Capaldi’s TARDIS takeover as a series shake-up. Still playful but more patient than Matt Smith’s often loveably giddy, occasionally wayward tenure, it’s an overhaul that treats the Doctor’s regeneration cycle as the cue for a fresh, fearless reboot, fitted to suit a series that runs on reinvention.
As ever, it starts with the Doctor, whose crisp togs hang on a crisp persona. Just as the clockwork opening titles signal hardened edges, so Capaldi is a harder Doctor, bristling with brainy impatience and broom metaphors. If he takes time to click, so he should. The Ben Wheatley-directed opener is droll, dark, devious… and faintly detached, its Doctor a magnetic enigma. In the Dalek follow-up, his unapologetic pragmatism (“Top layer…”) first alienates, then slowly comes into focus. Resisting the immediacy of David Tennant and Smith, Capaldi is made for mystery.
So if Mark Gatiss’ Robin Hood script is so loosely strung it couldn’t fire a Q-tip, it still pleases because it hits Capaldi’s droll scepticism and prickly reserve head-on. Then comes episode four – and lift-off. Between probing the concept of fear and quoting from Doctor Who’s first story, Moffat’s instant-classic ‘Listen’ finds fresh fuel in Doctor Who’s very engine room and nails the new Doctor beautifully: Capaldi’s “Dad skills” gag speaks volumes about his bedside manner
Afterwards, slight series stumbles (‘Time Heist’) are offset by successes. If Jenna Coleman’s Clara is a constant revelation, Samuel Anderson’s Danny Pink makes an affecting impact as the stories range from Coal Hill comedies to crackpot lunar fancies. Top prize goes to debuting DW writer Jamie Mathieson, who marshals seamless mergers of story/subtext in ‘Mummy On The Orient Express’ (out-of-kilter friendship, out-of-phase dangers) and the ingenious ‘Flatline’ (multi-dimensional nightmares).
If Frank Cottrell Boyce’s ‘In The Forest Of The Night’ sweetly, subtly situates Doctor Who within kids’ fiction traditions, Moffat’s finale manages to both incinerate subtlety and hold some back. Michelle Gomez’s deranged performance matches the go-for-broke tone of Moffat’s cyber-Missy epic. But series subtexts are niftily resolved and Capaldi’s surprise show of tenderness is beautifully judged. There’s even room to salute old pals, a gesture you’ll also want to offer Moffat and Capaldi.
Shame none of the principals feature on the disc commentaries, but the extras (unavailable at press) haul of docs and interviews should compensate. Also included is Foxes’ ‘Don’t Stop Me Now’ music video: a good fit for TV’s most
Kevin Harley unstoppable series. Extras › Commentaries › Documentaries › Featurettes › Music video