"Like A Friendly Easter Island Statue with a Bow Tie"

I can't help but feel a little righteous (okay, quite a bit righteous) regarding Matt Smith's obvious success with establishing himself as The Doctor. The confident bounce in his delivery is impressive, a frankly seamless magic trick where there is both at once the recogniseable arrogance and urgency of his predecessors as well as a sweeping shift in tone; a New Man.

Whereas The Doctors 9 and 10 were weighted by the trauma of war, the realisation of mortality and general guilt and loneliness, this Doctor v11.0 has finally shaken off the angst and self-pity, instead running off in a feverish love affair with his own desire for adventure. Underlying all the 'woe is me'-ing of Tennant's apologies for getting everyone in such a mess was the blatant thrill of danger and uncertainty; The Doctor was a closet Indiana Jones. This Doctor, he's well up for some jeopardy! Having spent (more than) enough time settling scores and tying up loose ends with old friends, he's off to rekindle the eager fugitive-detective days of yesteryear with nary a care in the world.

That's all in the here and now though. Why were we so confident and enthusiastic for this new doctor when he was first revealed nearly a year before Tennant had even ended his tenure? Well, obviously in Steven Moffat we trusted, the newly appointed head writer and executive producer clearly had his reasons. The man clearly adores Doctor Who, and revels in timey-wimey narratives, so why would anyone doubt him? I'm not sure if this is anything new, but certainly in the past few years, a TV writer's reputation has been considerably more instrumental in a show's success, certainly in sci-fi anyway, if not since the rise and rise of American TV drama as a whole. Nevertheless, the unveiling of Matt Smith as The Doctor revealed that a large chunk of the viewing public, as always, were adverse to the idea of any bold change.

I was utterly dismayed by the number of people I personally know who (in some cases) were prepared to outright abandon the show on the basis of Matt Smith's weird-ass face. On a side note, let it be noted that in my particular sample of case-studies, these were all women who made this point - how odd, you might think, considering the general rage at the constant absence of normal (read: ugly) people in the media. Thank you very much Tennant and Barrowman (shakes fist), your pretty boy looks have led the public to assume that Doctor Who, in its Saturday night light entertainment slot is a place reserved for someone to sit back and sigh quietly and gently swoon after, when in fact...

Oh, wait... "It was this or a french maid outfit". Phwoah. Just give me a minute or two, ta.

Yeah, alright, I'm just going to have to let Matt Smith's weird face go; I'm far too happy to have Karen Gillan's redhead kissogram running about on the telebox to tackle this issue with any credibility. I mean just look at her. Sigh. Swoon.

Somewhat back on track, though keep Karen Gillan in mind, I'm coming back to her, Steven Moffat has an agenda. Firstly, the most major of changes to the show were largely directorial, with a delicately more filmic appearance and in physical design, with the exuberant and flamboyant shift to Barbarella-esque (Barbarellaean?) 60s flair, it seems this series has discovered what exactly makes Doctor Who a true gem of contemporary British design. It's the melding of the kitsch and domestic with the grand and inventive (the 3D glasses that see particles from other dimensions, the elegant and epic steampunk time machine hidden inside a phone box, the pocket watch that contains the secrets of a Timelord, a terrifying unseen entity borne from the bickering of a self-scaremongering crowd of Daily Mail types etc. ).

Hey, that last example wasn't an example of design, that was an example of scripting! Yes, yes, you're right there, Hypethetical Reader of Blog. Suck me off - stream of consciousness coming through.

I'm eager to see where Moffat's Doctor's character arc is headed; it's far too early to tell, I know. What he has made clear is his vision of Doctor Who as a fairy tale, which is an exceptional angle to elaborate upon. Certainly in the past, Moffat's stories have revolved around bump-in-the-night style creatures, and our introduction to Amelia Pond was simply spellbinding. In fact, the series opener very much introduced Pond as our chief protagonist, and the Doctor the magic and mystery at the bottom of the garden. How far this fairy tale will extend, I'm not sure yet - though that 'crack in the world' that keeps following them about, I would guess, indicates that that first story isn't entirely done with, and like any good fairy tale, it'll be our heroine's responsibility to fix it, the Doctor will only be the herald and facilitator to such an end. Well, maybe; that's my prediction anyway.

Och, I never actually mentioned Karen Gillan's Amy Pond there, just the little girl version, which isn't exactly what I'd had in mind. Cue unmotivated picture.

Finally, lets talk about Moffat's Scottish Agenda. I'm keen to see how this one plays out, and how audiences react to it. At first glance, its incredibly jarring, and not at all subtly imposed; I can imagine many an English viewer wondering why they're getting Scottish nationalism shoved down their throats. A wise move then to place episode two upon the Starship UK (side note: though its the weakest episode so far, there are some brilliant ideas in this one, just not enough time given to any one of them).

Since New Who began, the show has held a rather uncomfortable nationalistic pride of queen and country. For the most part, I can forgive them for simply trying to both mimic the quintessentially British hallmarks of the series' history (the past forty years of Doctor Who are more or less a map of British identity and sensibilities - more on Old Who another time though) as well as admirably trying to establish a personality separate from the successful template of American science fiction. Nonetheless, once Russell T. Davies got a taste for it, he just couldn't stop bumming the Queen (har har) and the pride of Britain was just all too much.

The Beast Below (another side note: I'm going to have to write another post dedicated to just how much sex is written between the lines of this new series... The Beast Below, now really...) was set upon a ship filled with 'British' people, covered in 'British' iconography, except no one on the ship are Scottish (they got their own ship). Nothing of the standard Doctor Who depiction of British life has changed, they still use the Union Jack, and there's very little reflection of Scottish identity other than Pond's accent marking her out as unusual. I'm very often told that I read too much into television, to which I reply Nonsense! and wave my arts degree in the air, to which they then humour me, because speaking at length about film and tv is about the only luxury it can afford me right now, but anyway!

I reckon these quips about the Scottish, particularly in this context are far more cynical and questioning of the series' portrayal of cultural identity in general than mere stamps of ownership from a Scottish writer. I'd love to see what effect this movement has on future episodes, whether the animosity over representation is explored, or the whole thing cooled and put to rest; on the one hand, you've got Winston Churchill portrayed as a bit of a thief, not to mention, a leader of the daleks, but on the other hand, they suggested that The Doctor got his hole with Elizabeth I.