The Empty Child / The Doctor Dances

As of this writing, this two-part story seems to be the fan favorite from the Christopher Eccleston season, according to both the Doctor Who Dynamic Rankings page and this site’s own 2005 fan poll. I would not rate it quite so highly, but overall it is an extremely satisfying story, and my enthusiasm for it is dampened mostly by the issues raised by the introduction of Captain Jack Harkness, which I’ll deal with below.

But let’s get to the good bits first (and there are many). The story is well-plotted and quite spooky, delightfully in keeping with the traditions of the classic series. At its best, Doctor Who was always a mystery-horror show in a sort of sheer sci-fi drag, and this story combines the various genre elements in a harmonious way that many fans will find familiar and wonderful. The eerie dead child and its zombie offspring provide many chilling moments (of which the best probably comes when Dr. Constantine illustrates that the bodies in his ‘morgue’ are still very much alive), and of course Constantine’s own transformation is horrifying, and a wonderful throwback to the ‘body horror’ so often employed in the old series. The Blitzkrieg-era London locale is fairly well realized, historically, and more important it’s just so wonderfully British, a most fitting setting for this UK TV institution. Steven Moffat’s script might be the wittiest of the Eccleston season – “I don’t know whether it’s Marxism in action or a West End musical” is only one of many funny lines – and Eccleston’s Doctor is truly Doctorish most of the time. (His exchange with Jack about what happened to the weapons factory at Villengard is hilarious, and perfectly in character.) The action set pieces are scary and fun, and if Rose’s adventure on the rope is a little silly, and looks a little fakey, it is so in the grand style of what’s come before – replace the CGI with CSO and it could be Jo Grant up there. The revelation of Nancy’s true relationship to Jamie might ultimately be a bit easy to guess, but it’s nonetheless satisfying in terms of the overall drama. And the sci-fi resolution, too, works well . . . at first, the idea of medical nano-robots ‘repairing’ everything they encounter struck me as a little silly, but on reflection I think it’s actually a pretty nifty idea. (Maybe it was the Tinkerbell dust that *represents* the nanogenes that made it seem silly . . . .)

But the story isn’t only interested in this drama, of course – it also introduces the new companion. And John Barrowman is an immediate presence at Captain Jack – I confess, from hearing the character described before actually seeing the series, I was expecting much, much worse. There’s extremely little camp about Barrowman’s portrayal; the actor really does choose to play Jack straight, which may sound funny, but by that I don’t really mean ‘masculine,’ I mean unself-conscious. Jack may be written as boastful and cocky, but in Barrowman’s hands the lines become obvious jokes at his own expense – it’s very easy to see the ordinary guy behind all this ‘captain’s’ affected suaveness and bravado.

The problem is, Barrowman’s good acting doesn’t really make up for the way his character is used. (At least, it doesn’t here.) A sidebar: in this first series of the new Doctor Who, Russell T. Davies has truly created a new dynamic between the Doctor and his companion Rose. It is as close to a love relationship between Doctor and companion as the series ever got (possible exception: ‘The Movie’), and yet Davies opts not to consummate it. He seems to want to have it both ways: to play with sex, and yet never to develop the Doctor and Rose into an actual romantic/sexual couple, something which, while it would certainly outrage older fans, would at least make his winking and nudging pay off. And apart from a kiss that isn’t necessarily a kiss in ‘The Parting of the Ways’ (it’s in a non-sexual context, after all), Davies ultimately gives us nothing, remaining coy about the Doctor’s sexuality and his interest (or lack thereof) in his pretty blonde companion.

That’s all fine and dandy, and elsewhere I’ve written that the use of sex and sexuality in the new Doctor Who is actually quite understated anyway (and I meant it as a compliment). So what’s the problem, then? Only this: why the hell does Davies make us sit through so much unnecessary, intrusive love-triangle nonsense if he’s never going to actually *do* anything with it? And that’s where Jack comes in to this discussion – although Davies and Moffat happily give him a lot to do (and plenty of jokes), probably his main purpose in this story (as was the case with Adam Mitchell in ‘Dalek’) is to make the Doctor jealous when Rose expresses interest in him. Now, there are fans who have rationalized this as simply another example of the Doctor’s traditional selfishness, bringing up such examples as the First Doctor’s pouting in ‘The Chase’ when Ian and Barbara decide to leave him. But there’s more to it than that, given that Jack is introduced from the very outset as a sexualized character (ogling Rose’s bottom while patting Algy’s), and given the story’s rather forced and artificial focus on dancing. Jack is clearly presented as a sexual threat, and the Doctor responds, indeed, like a posturing punk watching somebody else flirt with his girl at a high school dance. Some fans don’t mind this, I choose to ignore it; either way, it’s an annoying distraction from the otherwise tense and dramatic plot. Not to mention the fact that it reduces Rose, who has made a most satisfyingly active companion to this point, to the status of a love object.

But ultimately, the story is entertaining and worthwhile despite these objections, and, as I said, the love angle hasn’t really played out into anything significant – yet.