#dw meta

[manhasetardis]

[polarity-disturbed]

One thing that’s become really clear while watching Classic Doctor Who alongside the current era, especially starting with the Fifteenth Doctor, is how well the Ninth through Twelfth Doctor eras nailed the balance of episode length and story structure.

Classic Who usually split its stories into four or five 20 to 25 minute episodes per arc, which roughly equals the runtime of a modern two-parter. But while that format allowed for sprawling narratives, it came with a tradeoff: pacing. Entire episodes sometimes feel like narrative treading water, not because the writing was bad, but because of the constraints of mid-20th century television. (That’s its own fascinating rabbit hole, but we’ll save that for another time.)

To be fair, Classic Who did experiment with its format. Some stories, like The Edge of Destruction, a tight, two-part psychological thriller set entirely inside the TARDIS, used a smaller runtime to great effect. It’s still one of the strongest entries of Season 1, partly because it had no room to meander.

Later, the show dabbled in stories of two 45-minute episodes during Season 22. But those episodes often had the same problem: some stories still didn’t need the extra time. Take The Mark of the Rani, for example. It was padded out to fit that two-part, 45-minute-per-episode format (roughly 90 minutes total), but honestly? It could’ve been a sharper, more effective 40-minute story. There’s a lot of unnecessary fluff that drags the pacing down.

But then you get something like The Keys of Marinus, a six-parter (20 minutes each part) that essentially functions as a sci-fi anthology. Each episode throws the Doctor and co. into a new setting with a self-contained mini-plot. It uses its extended format to experiment and surprise without feeling stale. That’s when the long form works.

Then came the 2005 to 2017 revival era, and to me the show hit its structural gold standard: twelve episodes per season, blending 40-minute standalones with 80-minute two-parters. 

Episodes like Blink and Midnight were tight stories that landed precisely because they didn’t overstay their welcome. Try stretching either one to feature length, and the tension would unravel. Meanwhile, two-parters like The Empty Child / The Doctor Dances had room to build atmosphere and layer in character development. They remain fan favorites for a reason: the format gave them the breathing room they needed, and then stopped.

Which brings us to the Fifteenth Doctor’s era.

Right now, we’re back to a one-size-fits-all approach but in the opposite direction: single 40-minute episodes across the season, with only the finale allowed to be a two-parter. And the result? Some stories just aren’t getting the space they need to land.

Doctor Who thrives on structural flexibility. Some stories need 80 minutes to unfold. Others are perfect little 40-minute excursions. Locking every episode into the same runtime is like asking every alien to fit inside a human suit: it works until it doesn’t, and when it doesn’t, it’s obvious.

The point is: variety in format has always been one of Doctor Who’s strengths. When the show leans into that, it sings. When it forgets that, you end up with stories that could’ve soared if they were just given a little more space to breathe.

(Also I don’t mean to exclude 13. It’s just that her era experimented with structure so much across her run that it’s kind of its own thing. There’s a whole separate post to be written about what worked and didn’t there.)

(Fun fact for reading this far: The Edge of Destruction was only two 25-minute parts because the production team didn’t know if the show was getting picked up for more episodes. They wrote a short, self-contained story set entirely inside the TARDIS to avoid building new sets. It was meant to be cheap filler, and it ended up being one of the highlights of the First Doctor’s era.)

[mwagneto]

like seriously belinda being forced to lose sight of all her goals and become a mother is a horror movie right???!! literally the entirety of ep7 revolved around the horror of 1950s forced heterosexual suburbia and then ep8 is like yeah belinda has ceased to exist as a person and her only interest now is this random baby that she wants to mother more than anything. the programming of conrad's world fully clinging to her the entire time and then when 15 "resets" the timeline it's extremely uncanny how she rewrites her entire story so it was always about the baby and her motherhood. not to mention whatever 15 did almost definitely full on erased ruby from existence. extremely unsettling episode please please can we please get belinda out i'm shaking

[dandelionjack]

We Invest Things With Significance, or: Why Sutekh Isn’t Sutekh, But Death Itself. alternative title: Fear Is the Mind Killer.

the Doctor Who Series 14/1 thesis statement

i don’t think that sutekh has literally been attached to the TARDIS since Pyramids of Mars. i think that the salt at the edge of the universe — the grievous mistake that caused all myths to become a reality — was what made him appear. and he’s not the same character as sutekh the osiran, a powerful alien that delusionally believed himself to be a god. he *is* a god. nuwho-Sutekh is Death Incarnate.

ergo, this version of Sutekh is the literal psychic manifestation of the Doctor’s deep-seated, guilt-motivated fear of the idea that his arrival brings death wherever he treads. this death-anxiety was turned into a physical presence, haunting the TARDIS all through the Doctor’s timestream, because of the salt. that’s the reason why the Doctor didn’t spot any Susan Twists before Wild Blue Yonder…

there are two timelines in Doctor Who — relative time and universal time. universal time is the history of the universe. relative time is how the Doctor experiences it. in universal time, Sutekh has supposedly been hitchhiking through the vortex for millenia. in relative time, he has only been doing so since Fourteen accidentally invited myths back into the world.

the Doctor was insecure and afraid and believed the above quote (from the very first episode!! spoken by the very first named character in nuwho to die on screen, no less!) to be true. but until WBY it had only been true on a symbolic, metaphorical level. myths, legends, concepts and stories becoming real after the salt caused the Doctor’s anxiety about being a death-bringer to take the shape of a black dog — a universally recognised symbol of death — wearing the name and voice of his most formidable enemy, Sutekh.

in a way, this plotline mirrors The Woman from 73 Yards similarly being a manifestation of Ruby’s worst fear — that of being abandoned by everyone she loves for something intrinsic and incorrigible inside her that she cannot change. Ruby fears being left completely alone, so “The Woman” causes everyone in her life to leave her. the Doctor fears that his coming always heralds mass destruction (“maybe i’m the bad luck”), so “Sutekh” makes sure that the TARDIS literally becomes an altar of death.

ever since Wild Blue Yonder, stories in doctor who have become sources of immense power. the worst, most potent stories we tell ourselves are the lies that our sick brains whisper to us — secret anxieties that we’re not good enough, that all our loved ones will inevitably leave, that we carry nothing but bad luck in our wake. what better clay to mould a monster from than the protagonists’ own neuroses?

and if anybody’s still in doubt, here’s the plain text, all laid out below:

we invest things with significance. that’s what the salt at the edge of the universe really meant. that’s what almost every episode this series has been about, thematically — the imaginary kastarions, the cosplaying chuldur, the bogeyman written into life because kids need a scary story. myths become real to us because we believe in them, love and death and monsters too.

[intuitive-revelations]

Ok, but consider...

You can't just give me a bunch of elite sheltered assholes in a domed, transduction shielded city associated with a destroyed 'homeworld' and not expect me to make connections.

(also sorry Rodan, you don't deserve to be giffed next to Lindy in any respect, let alone twice over)

[causalityparadoxes]

Okay but the Rogue throwing the bouquet and the Doctor catching it. The bride's bouquet, superstition signifying the next person who will marry. The Doctor putting on the Rogue's engagement ring.

Its the fantasy era, whats a billion trillion to one when you have coincidence on your side. What story is complete without a marriage.

They are going to find him and they are having that goddamn wedding.

[praetyger]

Thinking about how it would play out if Clara crossed paths with 13. 13 would panic and try to hide who she was but it wouldn’t take longer than a couple of sentences for Miss “I’d know you anywhere” to figure it out. I’m also thinking about how she’d be overjoyed and yet smile that sad, watery smile of hers because “you’re young again”.

The way that would contrast with the beginning of her relationship with 12, being heartbroken seeing old 11 at Trenzalore, relieved and happy when he resets before regenerating, and scared when he regenerates into 12. How she “didn’t know who the doctor was anymore” and couldn’t see him.

Maybe she’d caress her cheek like she used to, maybe she’d let her. “You’ve hidden yourself away again, you stupid old man”.

[ghost-bison]

I had a sort of epiphany as to what makes Ten and Donna's relationship so appealing to so many people, so much so that it's been over 15 years and we're still talking about it.

What i'm about to say is nothing really new but I find it interesting how for hundreds of years, the Doctor's been the person and the companion has been the mirror.

What I mean by that is, the Doctor's this all impressive, wonderful being, this super-human to the people he meets and especially those he travels with, and so they think that in order to deserve him and this life, they need to be like him.

We saw it with Rose, who by series 2 started becoming a totally different character: careless, her immaturity hidden behind a newfound confidence encouraged by the Doctor - who, at this point in the show where his most defining traits are guilt and regret, desperately needs an equal.

This change in Rose's personality and demeanor is explored during her talk with her mum in 2x12 "Army of Ghosts":

JACKIE: You even look like him. ROSE: How do you mean? I suppose I do, yeah. JACKIE: You've changed so much. ROSE: For the better. JACKIE: I suppose. ROSE: Mum, I used to work in a shop. JACKIE: I've worked in shops. What's wrong with that? ROSE: No, I didn't mean that. JACKIE: I know what you meant. What happens when I'm gone? ROSE: Don't talk like that. JACKIE: No, but really. When I'm dead and buried, you won't have any reason to come back home. What happens then? ROSE: I don't know. JACKIE: Do you think you'll ever settle down? ROSE: The Doctor never will, so I can't. I'll just keep on travelling. JACKIE: And you'll keep on changing. And in forty years time, fifty, there'll be this woman, this strange woman, walking through the marketplace on some planet a billion miles from Earth. But she's not Rose Tyler. Not anymore. She's not even human.

Then, we have Martha. The better-known side of her relationship with the Doctor is that she has an unrequited love for him, but do people ever think about what's going on inside his head during his year with her?

Cause he pretends like he doesn't see it and it sort of works, for we all know he's pretty dense (when Cassandra possessed Rose's body, not ONCE did he glance down at her voluntarily revealing neckline, and he always looks so dazed and surprised when women kiss him, etc...). So Martha believes him when he acts like he doesn't see how she looks at him.

But he didn't have to kiss her passionately if he didn't want her to fall for him. He could have just done some weird shit as always and lick her cheek or something. He chose to kiss her because at this point, because of what he's done to Rose, he's forgotten that that's not what his relationship with people needs to be. He thinks she'll leave him if she doesn't idolize him.

Another side of their relationship we think even less about is Martha being a doctor (or doctor-to-be). She has this particular view of the title that comes with years of university and hospital internships, a view that's less present in companions who don't work in the medical field (Rose, Donna, Amy, Clara, Bill, Ruby...). So she has this advantage where, as she said, "You need to earn that title", but also this bias where she realizes he does live up to it, and because she wants to be a doctor, he's everything she needs to be.

This creates an interesting parallel with other medical worker companions: Rory and Belinda, the nurses.

Rory's relationship with the Doctor mainly exists through Amy's relationship with the Doctor: he's been seeing, ever since they were kids, what their encounter did to her, and then by the time they're adults and Amy sees the Doctor again, what it evolves and will evolve into.

At some point, Rory tells the Doctor:

RORY: You know what is dangerous about you? It's not that you make people take risks, it's that you make them want to impress you. You make it so they don't want to let you down. You have no idea how dangerous you make people to themselves when you're around.

And then, this is what Belinda tells the Doctor the first time he takes her into the TARDIS:

BELINDA: Is that what you say to all the girls? Is that what you said to Sasha? She trusted you, and she died. You tested my DNA without even asking my permission. God... You're dangerous. [...] I am not one of your adventures. Now I'm asking you, Doctor, to do the right thing.

Interesting coincidence that the two nurses of the show, basically the two people who aren't impressed (in the sense of "dazed") by the title of "Doctor", are two of the only companions who can see how messed up some situations he puts them in actually are where most companions would make an awkward "that was bad" joke out of it, or even just not say anything.

BELINDA: Some things don't change. There's always a doctor standing back while the nurses do all the hard work.

then:

BELINDA: So what's your name? Doctor what? THE DOCTOR: Just the Doctor. BELINDA: What? You're actually called "the Doctor"? THE DOCTOR: Yeah. BELINDA: All right then, I'm called "the Nurse".

To them, this title is just this: a title. To Martha, it's her future.

And to Donna... it means strictly nothing.

The first time she meets him in 2x14 "The Runaway Bride", she's transported directly inside the TARDIS. She sees the inside before she sees the outside. So where other companions would realize "it's bigger on the inside", Donna sees the contrary: it's smaller on the outside.

When she asks WHO he is, he just says "I'm the Doctor". Then he asks who she is in turn, and she says "Donna". She doesn't try to understand why he gave her this instead of an actual name, nor does she try to obtain an actual answer to her question. She just gets that he's strange, rolls with it, and tells him her name in turn.

By the end of the episode, there's no mistaking the fact that she IS impressed with him... but it's not a good thing.

The Doctor is surprised: he's used to it being a good thing. Generally, it gets him what he wants, which is a new companion. He's done everything right: saved her life, showed her the stars, he's even made it snow to make her smile!

And yet, at this point, all Donna thinks about is how the Doctor drowned kids in front of her, and in front of their own mother, and didn't even blink as he did.

THE DOCTOR: Come with me? DONNA: No. [...] I can't. I mean, everything we did today... Do you live your life like that? THE DOCTOR: ...Not all the time. DONNA: I think you do. And I couldn't. THE DOCTOR: But you've seen it out there. It's beautiful. DONNA: And it's terrible. That place was flooding and burning and they were dying and you stood there like... I don't know. A stranger. And then you made it snow, I mean, you scare me to death!

She is impressed, yes, but she is not dazed, yet. And by the time she is in series 4, she's had too long to think about it to let it cloud her judgment:

When they meet again in 4x01 "Partners in Crime", and she's finally ready to come with him, she gets a glimpse of how narcissistic and self-centered he is when he makes it clear that he thinks she wants to be with him in a romantic way (as I said earlier, he's forgotten that not all his relationships needed to be like this, and this belief that he has was reinforced by his time with Martha).

But Donna immediately puts him back in his place, twice:

DONNA: That Martha must have done you good. THE DOCTOR: Yeah, she did, yeah... She fancied me. DONNA: Mad Martha, that one! Blind Martha, charity Martha. [...] THE DOCTOR: I just want a mate. DONNA: You just want to mate? THE DOCTOR: I just want a mate! DONNA: You're not mating with me, sunshine! THE DOCTOR: A mate! I want a mate! DONNA: Well just as well because I'm not having any of that nonsense, I mean you're just a long streak of nothing. You know, alien nothing.

Then, throughout the whole of series 4, she spends half of their time together learning things about the Universe, about herself, and the other half challenging him:

In 4x02 "The Fires of Pompeii", she doesn't obey blindly. She asks interesting questions, pushes back, disagrees with him. She wants to save the whole town, he tells her they can't do that, she doesn't care. He's not used to having to engage in long explanations as to why his word is to be followed, because he considers himself to be righteous. This is mainly why she challenges him: she's a grown, capable woman and he treats her like a child:

THE DOCTOR: Donna, stop it. DONNA: Listen, I don't know what sort of kids you've been flying around with, but you're not telling me to shut up.

Then, she reminds him once more that they're equals and that she knows what she's doing with him when she puts her hands on that lever, taking on part of a burden that the Doctor thought was going to be entirely his again. And then, finally, she shows him that if you can't save everyone, one person is better than no one at all. She gives him hope and reminds him of his purpose.

On and on, she keeps doing stuff like that, until the point where the line starts blurring between them: they were the DoctorDonna before Donna had even gotten near that hand.

And instead of the companion trying to mirror the Doctor like every other time, the Doctor starts becoming the companion. And Donna does find him dazzling, she said it to her gramps, but she knew better than to let it show when she was with him.

Where he changed Rose into someone else entirely (which ended badly and could have been avoided had they been more careful), pushed Martha into forgetting her own individual worth (which she ended up understanding and decided to leave for her own good), he only gave Donna a glimpse into what she already was, and SHE was the one who changed HIM for the better.

Donna's fate couldn't have been predicted or prevented by either of them; it was destined to end like this, and this, all of this, is what makes their relationship so absolutely magnificent: both the simplicity and complexity of it, and its ineffability.