Whovians, unite. I’m back, fresh from watching the 50th in Staples Corner cinema and I am still sniffling.
Alright. It was epic. It was clever. It was FANTASTIC. It was everything we love about Doctor Who and everything we hate about Moffat.
It was both heartbreaking and touching.
Now, *she sing-songs in a River Song voice* …spoilers…!
No, seriously, don’t read if you haven’t seen it yet!
I won’t spell everything out, because what’s the point, but I’ll rant a bit because it was SO. GOOD.
Consider yourselves warned.
Also, warning, this is long. Like, really.
First of all, I wasn’t sure whether I’d be the only maniac at the cinema covered in tally marks. That I was. But there were people in fezzes, bow ties and epic scarves. I’ve never been to a movie where you could FEEL the community in the air. Whovians <3 That alone was incredibly special.
Now, I offered a girl in a fez and her friends some jellies because I like feeding people, and they were like, awww, Haribo bears…
Me, *sternly*: ‘No. They’re not. Would you like a jelly baby?’ – Everybody in close vicinity: *ooooowwwhhhh!*
That’s what happens when you go to a cinema full of Whovian madness <3
11th introducing the 50th anniversary special? Yes, please. He should give the opening speech of the next Oylmpics. He’s THAT good.
Minor detail, he thought it was in 12D AND the 100th. There’s been 57 Doctors already.
Now, writing about these highlights makes me cry anew – if I was writing this in a traditional journal, you know, leather bound, beautiful pages, it’d be covered in my tears. As it is, only the blue tally marks on my face are getting all blurry. And my glasses. I can still type though. ‘I’ll get through this, I’ll write the post’, she said, in her best superhero voice…
Seriously, too fantastic not to share.
11th, dangling from the TARDIS first somewhere between the Gherkin and the Eye, then over Trafalgar Square.
I knew this was going to happen, it still, frankly, rocked.
10th, wearing a fez. AAAAAAND boom, it just got cooler.
Tennant, so brilliant, like he never left. Cheeky and intense.
Doctor proposing to Elisabeth. The FIRST.
And then marrying her. She turned out NOT to be a Zygon. Who knew. SO obviously, he married her.
So much for the Virgin Queen.
She still kicks ass though, that Lizzie. One of the MANY awesome one-liners – ‘I may have the body of a weak and feeble woman. But at the time so did the Zygon.’
And there’s kissing.
‘TARDIS had a grunge phase. She grew out of it.’
10th has a face off. With a rabbit.
‘You wanted a big red button.’
There’s people breaking OUT of paintings.
11th steals a fez from an uber secure under-gallery. Clara: ‘Someday you could just walk past a fez…’ The entire cinema (apart from my dad): *squeel*!
Billie Piper saves EVERYONE. And I mean everyone.
Also, Billie rocking desert-chic, torn tights and boho braids… I’ll allow it. It’s Rose after all.
10th: ‘Did you say ‘Bad Wolf’?’ Me: ‘ANSWER HIM! DAMN IT, ANSWER HIM!!!’
There’s a girl with an inhaler, who’s sort of a scientist maybe, but more importantly, she’s wearing a Fourth Doctor scarf. It’s epic. It’s like a Whovian meeting the Doctor who wants a report (on stone dust), on his desk, ASAP. And he wants a desk. That inhaler is totally needed. Damn, I’d need one if 11th wanted a report from me. Or said hi. In Trafalgar Square.
The curator. Oh my lord. Tom Baker. I almost choked on my jelly babies.
10th on a horse! Again! Not Susan. A sucky alien person thing.
Children of Gallifrey.
John Hurt’s Doctor – brilliant, just brilliant.
And a nanosecond of Capaldi! Well, his eyes. Still!
Three Doctors together – poetry. There’s banter, there’s cheekiness, “chinny”, “sandshoes” and “mid-life crisis”, Tennant, Smith and Hurt are awesome together.
11th’s is bigger than 10th’s.
Also, there’s cackle-inducing lines aplenty and inside jokes that only Whovians will get – my Dad just sat there. He still enjoyed it, he said, although he understood 10% of both the story line and the inside jokes.
My Dad: ‘I don’t get it – so he burned it? What? Why’s there 3 of them? So many police boxes… Why are you ALL LAUGHING?!’
Me: ‘Shut up. I’ll explain later’
Everybody’s clapping, a sense of community, some are crying (I’m looking at you, crazy me) and my dad goes, OUT VERY LOUD, ‘I’m surrounded by nutters.’
Later: ‘Did you REALLY understand that?’
‘Yes. He destroyed Gallifrey. Then he undestroyed it. It was incredible.’
Apart from the plot being genius and twisted and lovely, some of the shots were even better – the director, Nick Harran, did a spectacular job! Camera work is beautiful too.
At the end, when everybody started clapping like crazy – it was so amazing, and even made me cry some more.
So, it wasn’t as soul-smashing as say, Angels in Manhattan, but it was touching and beautiful and genius.
And the last scene was so epic I can’t even.
Are you a total Whovian? Did you cry? Did you love it? Were you confused?
That Time When I Cried in Tesco
First, you gotta know something about me. I don’t cry. Not when something traumatic happens. Not when I’m hurt. Not when there’s people around me.
Sure, I’m not a Dalek and I’ve shed tears in my life, but my dad said he’s never seen me cry at a movie (and going to the cinema has been our thing since I was 2 and we’ve been to see Star Wars) and he rarely sees me cry at home. When I cried in my boarding school, 2nd year, when I got news about my great grand mother, everybody was more shocked at me crying than interested in the actual reason.
I’m only telling you this so you don’t go reading this and thinking I’m a person who causally cries in shops. I know some who do. Must be cathartic and I’m actually jealous of them. But I’m not one of them.
So, on our way back from the cinema we decided to pop into Tesco. Since my face was all puffy and I was still in a ‘it was so beautiful *sniffle* mood’ my dad said calmly – stop crying, or they’ll call the police. I was like, WHY?
Right, because I’m covered in tally marks, which look like stitches for non-Whovians, especially the blue ones on my face as Fatih said (‘OMG, why do you have stitches on your face?!’). Also, I’m limping and using a crutch. Also, I’m still tearing up, although only delicately. Alright. Dad might have a point when he says, they’ll think I abuse you or something. So I decided to be strong.
And I was. All through veggies, a debate over spinach, another debate over free range vs organic eggs, freezing meat isles, tea, coffee, you’ve shopped before, you know the drill.
This broke me.
So I stand in front of those damn instants soups and start crying again, full on, muttering ‘Those paintings… *tears* …like slices of time. It’s like Cup-a-Soups, except you add time.’ Thank gods I didn’t remember the exact quote, or 11th’s words might’ve made the crying way worse.
My dad was just staring at me.
He wasn’t the only one.
Now I’m at home and in a very Who mood, and nobody called the police, so it’s all good.
Although when we got home and I was calm and composed, my dad told my mom I was crying like ‘a loony’ in the cinema AND Tesco. So my mom, bless her, said: ‘Oh, it’s going to be OK. He’s coming back (she has no idea what IS Doctor Who)’ Well hell, thank you for that. HE’S NOT!!! AND HE DIDN’T WANT TO GO! Thanks mom, I’m crying again.
Finally, my mom: ‘I don’t think I’m competent to try and make you feel better’.
I want to hear what other Whovians thought.
When we gathered in the foyer after the movie, everybody was like ‘Oh my GOD, so the entirety of those 50 years, destroyed like that, he changed everything, omg.’ – tell me what you thought and share the obsession. After all, what are the internets for if not crazy fandoms?
But in all honesty, the most beautiful and clever moment, out of all those timey-wimey insane time jumps and plot turns was the end, calm and enlightening – all those years and all that pain, and all he was doing was looking for HOME.
The incredible thing about The Day of the Doctor is that it acknowledges history, both of the Doctor and the show, respects it, and manages to rewrite it without making it nonsensical and incoherent. Gallifrey was not destroyed and then saved. It was NEVER destroyed. Yet still, Doctor doesn’t remember that, the jumbled, paradoxical time streams don’t allow it. And so his tormented hearts, Eccleston’s, Tennant’s and Smith’s remain hurt, and the pain of killing the children of Gallifrey is still there. Even the War Doctor realizes he’ll forget about creating the pocket universe and hiding his home. That he’ll have to live with the pain of destroying his own planet and people. But he asks Clara, in a beautiful, calm moment:
How many worlds has his regret saved?
And the side of the Doctor we all love prevails, the not-always gentle hero, with flailing arms, flailing scarves and mad ideas, the man who saves thousands and hundreds and his favourite planet (mostly London) all over again to atone for the burning of his people.
The man who forgets, the man who regrets, the alien and familiar man we will always love.
*all stills – credit goes to BBC