Doctor Who Season 5, Part 2

(Many of these are a bit shorter, because I've already talked about them in previous posts)

Amy’s Choice is, again, an awesome story, and while the characterization is a bit better, it’s not perfect. Amy is caught in between two fake worlds: the Doctor’s and Rory’s. In the Doctor’s world, she is in the Tardis in terrible danger, but clearly having the time of her life. In Rory’s, she is pregnant living in a quiet village with her husband and his ponytail. Now, it’s obvious that Amy prefers the Doctor’s world, much to Rory’s distaste, because it’s not like she could ever have any sort of compromise (in the finale, perhaps?). Rory clearly thinks that just because Amy wants to have adventures she obviously doesn’t love him at all. Interestingly, in the end, Amy does choose both: Rory dies in his world, so she chooses the Doctor’s world where Rory is still alive.

Also, in an interesting twist, the villain of the piece turns out to be the Doctor’s dark side, and reveals a lot about the Doctor’s insecurities and self-loathing. The more I think about it, the more I sort of like it, because it hearkens back a bit to the darkness of the Tennant era.

The Hungry Earth: I actually like this one, though I’m not quite as enthusiastic about this two-parter as I was when they first aired. But the story is pretty good, even if nothing much happens in this first installment. Some good characters are introduced, like Tony and Nasreen, and some not so good, like Ambrose, whose only role is basically to be a bitch.

Cold Blood introduces two more bitches, Silurian warriors. I still like the story overall, though the politics of it may be ill-advised. Also, Rory is erased from time and space.

Vincent and the Doctor is definitely my favorite episode of the season, and possibly one of my all-time favorites. Despite a couple of weak moments and a lot of emotional manipulation, the chemistry between the characters and the acting just made this a joy to watch. The ending was bittersweet and just beautiful.

The Lodger: This is another great one. Amy is largely absent as she is trapped in a malfunctioning Tardis, and the Doctor investigates a mystery in an apartment building. The ep is basically just Matt Smith being adorable for 45 minutes, and is honestly the moment when I decided that I wholeheartedly embrace him as the Doctor.

The Pandorica Opens marks the returns of River Song and Rory and the death of Amy. Although it’s not really the return of Rory, because he’s really an Auton and a Roman Centurion (yeah, it’s confusing). Also it’s the return of almost all of the Doctor’s past foes, who blame him for the Crack and lock him in the Pandorica to stop the end of the world (?). Which leads us to…

The Big Bang: Again, it’s probably too confusing for its own good, but still a good solid episode. After an impossible bit of time travel, the Doctor is freed from the Pandorica, and Amy is put in because she is only “mostly dead” a la Westley in the Princess Bride. In a lovely bit, remembering his humanity causes Rory to retain his humanity (basically) and he guards Amy in the Pandorica for 2,000 years while the Crack continues to open and screw with Amy’s past life. Honestly, there are so many elements and ideas it’s easy to get bogged down, but if you go with it, it’s good fun.

So then the Doctor gets all “mostly dead” himself, boards the Pandorica, transports it to the Tardis, and sends the Tardis into the sun in order to stop the end of time and gets erased from history for his trouble. Whew....

So here’s the cool part: Amy lives her life over again, but this time she has parents and actually marries Rory (no idea if she’s any more enthusiastic about him this time around). On her wedding day, she remembers the Doctor, causing him to return to existence, thus completing the theme. Mr. and Mrs. Pond then fly away into time and space.

For one thing, I really like this episode because unlike every other season finale, this episode has a happy ending, which I think we were due for. This episode does raise many more questions than it answers. Some of which, hopefully, will be answered next season. The memory-as-creation theme is awesome, but did the stuff with the Crack and Pandorica actually happen because Amy remembered it? How does this effect the events of the entire season (most importantly, did the stuff with Van Gogh and the Lodger actually happen?)? Was the entire season a dream of sorts? What about previous Doctors? Were they erased from existence, too? Is the entire history of Doctor Who now rendered moot? Did Amy return them to existence (and other people’s memories) with her memory? How has Amy’s life changed now that her life has started over?

Also, as a side note, the memory theme is interesting in connection with Donna’s story. As per the end of the 4^th season, Donna is now half Timelord, but she’s not because she doesn’t remember it. If she remembered, it would be real and it would kill her.

Anyway, there is obviously lots to think about before the start of the next season. Hopefully, some of the above questions will be answered. And hopefully Matt Smith continues to be adorable!

Doctor Who Season Five, Part 1

I’m definitely late on this, but I really feel the need to do an overview of the Doctor Who season after seeing the whole thing and finding out how the story arc was completed. However, I should say that it’s been a few weeks since I’ve seen the finale, and there were definitely some things that I missed/didn’t understand upon first viewing. So these are just my initial impressions of the season—I think a second viewing would really help, but I don’t have that kind of time right now.

Overall, I thought this was a strong season. There were definitely some low points, but when it was good, it was really good. Also, some of my opinions on specific episodes have changed in hindsight.

The Eleventh Hour: I thought this was an awesome beginning—a great entrance by Matt Smith, although I was admittedly unsure of him until near the end of the season (I apparently have issues with change). Here we meet little Amelia Pond, who is adorable, though definitely not normal. For one thing, she is way too mature for her age, and doesn’t seem to have any guardians.

Her strange life is made even stranger by the arrival of the Doctor, who completely charms her before taking off in the Tardis, promising to be back in five minutes. He doesn’t return for twelve years.

Now, a lot has been written about Amy Pond, some of it by me, and the sexism inherent in the writing of her character. Some have taken issue with the media focus on Karen Gillan’s basic hotness. Though I’m generally against objectification, I can’t help but take note of the fact that she is very, very pretty. That said, I have no problem with Amy’s job as a “kiss-o-gram,” and disagree with those who have said that this somehow means that the Doctor turned her into a giant whore. It’s refreshing to see a woman on television who is secure in her sexuality. I think Amy is screwed up, but in a way where she doesn’t know what she wants or even really who she is (and honestly, neither does the audience).

By abandoning her, the Doctor seems to have left Amy without any sense of direction or way to move on and grow up, and now he has to fix it, which he pretty much does in the finale. Looking ahead to that episode, which I admit I didn’t entirely understand, we find out that somehow the crack in Amy’s wall is responsible for her lack of a family, and the Doctor’s sacrifice fixes it. What we don’t really find out to what extent her life was changed as a result of the finale. Is she still a kiss-o-gram? Is she still in charge of her sexuality? Is she really all that in love with Rory? Maybe we’ll find out next season.

The Beast Below: This episode is one of those low points that I mentioned earlier. First off, there’s just some lazy writing. Queen Elizabeth asks her minions if the Doctor did “the thing?” for no other reason than to add mystery and to keep whatever stupid thing a secret from the audience. Like really, who would say that? Also, the Doctor is a complete dick to Amy for trying to protect him from the knowledge of the space whale.

Then there’s the space whale itself. The end of this episode could be seen as kind of beautiful in a way, but I have trouble believing that an animal who would willingly have lived in servitude to the humans would continue to do so after it had been brutally tortured for centuries. I feel like there’s a weird analogy to African slavery there. Also, the whale is awesome because it spared the children that were fed to it, but did we forget that it still apparently ate the adults? This just fails on so many levels.

However, this does mark the beginning of a giant theme throughout this season of memory. According to the recording, the people must choose to forget the truth, because if they remember, it will be changed, and everyone will die. Memory brings about change.

Victory of the Daleks was actually pretty forgettable, all things considered. For one thing, the Mighty Morphin’ Power Daleks were nothing but a blatant marketing ploy. However, this episode does further the theme of memory and ties directly to the finale. While I didn’t like this subplot the first time it aired, in hindsight I think the idea that just by remembering something, even something that didn’t actually happen, it becomes real, is an interesting one. The scientist becomes human just by remembering his (false) human life.

Time of the Angels introduces us to the concept that “That which holds the image of an Angel becomes itself an Angel,” which could be an interesting play on the theme of memories coming true. However, I really hate both of these episodes for what they do with the Weeping Angel mythology. Now, instead of sending people back in time, they just snap their necks, which just seems so… vulgar. And they have all these new powers, like stealing the voices of dead people and becoming stone just by an image. Perhaps worst of all, we get to see these angels move, which actually made them a lot less scary for me. The cool thing about the angels in “Blink” is that when audience was watching, the angels didn’t move. The camera and the audience literally shared in the gaze. And then the camera would cut for a second, and when it returned, however they had moved was so creepy. This episode was just disappointing.

Flesh and Stone: These episodes really piss me off. My big issue in these, though, I covered in a previous post. The fear of Amy’s sexuality apparent in the writers is just shitty. However, something I should have covered is the fact that Amy essentially sexually assaults the Doctor. She comes on to him, he says no, and she doesn’t stop; and the whole thing is played for laughs. Honestly, if the roles had been reversed, nobody would have been laughing or cheering Amy on or whatever. So there’s that, which is inexcusable, but there’s also the fact that the Doctor reacts by basically saying, “You’re not in charge of your own body and we need to get you married off ASAP to this guy you’re not incredibly attracted to.” It’s just problematic on so many levels.

One more thing: the Doctor says that Amy can remember the soldiers eaten by the Crack because she is a time-traveller, but unlike with the Doctor in the finale, her ability to remember them does not make them exist. I don’t really know what to do with that, but there it is.

Vampires of Venice was both cool and infuriating. I really like the idea of it, and the baroness lady was a great villain, although the raping fish aliens squicked me out. Yet again, though, the writers horribly mishandled Amy. This time, her fiancé Rory is along for the ride, and it’s clear that she’s more attracted to the Doctor than to him. The Doctor maintains, though, that once Amy experiences the thrill of danger with Rory, she’ll go mad for him again. And it works, suggesting again that Amy is an irrational lady with an irrational lady-brain that will go after anything once her adrenaline starts pumping. She doesn’t know what she wants, and if she thinks she does, she is obviously wrong.

Okay, that's part 1, part 2 will probably be posted tomorrow....

Minorities on Television: Were the 80s and 90s Less Racist?

I was flipping through the channels last night when I came across a rerun of Family Matters. Immediately filled with nostalgic childhood memories I watched for a few minutes, remembering the days when sitcoms were actually awesome. And the '80s and '90s really did have some great shows for the whole family. Besides Family Matters there was Full House, The Cosby Show, and of course, Fresh Prince. Oddly enough, three out of four of these shows feature almost entirely all-black casts.

What I find really remarkable about this is that everyone I knew back then watched these shows. They were for everyone, not just people of color. Now, however, the only show I can think of that centers on a black family is Tyler Perry's House of Payne, and I don't think I know anyone who watches that show. Otherwise, the only recent show I can think of featuring a leading actor of color that people actually watched is Battlestar Galactica, which actually had a fairly diverse cast. Besides BSG, there aren't just a whole lot of shows that feature minority actors on a regular basis. The ones that immediately come to mind are Dollhouse and Firefly, as examples of cancelled scifi shows, and also Glee, and shows with black sidekicks, like House, The Vampire Diaries, and Psych. All of these shows, however, have white leading actors with people of color who show up mainly to help the lead characters in some way or to serve as the episode's b-plot.

So does the decreasing popularity of shows with all-black casts signal that our television shows have become more racist since the early '90s? Or is it a good thing, since we're now pushing for more diverse and inclusive casts (although we're obviously not making as much progress as we should be)?

Was the heyday of Steve Urkel and Bill Cosby racist in itself? Maybe those shows were a form of segregation, so other shows wouldn't have to include people of color? The networks could say, "Look at these shows featuring black families! Their existence proves we're not racist!" Or perhaps the shows catered specifically to white audiences: "These black families are so normal! Just like white families! So there's nothing to be afraid of!" I'm inclined to lean toward this argument, but I'd love to hear what others think.

New Doctor Who Post

So, it's been a couple of weeks, and I haven't even mentioned Doctor Who. Obviously this must be remedied. I'm actually really excited about the past two episodes, "Cold Blood" and "Vincent and the Doctor," and I'd like to do a largely positive Who post for once.

"Cold Blood" is the second of a two-parter, following "The Hungry Earth." "Hungry Earth," while fine, is obviously the setup for "Cold Blood," and therefore doesn't merit a whole lot of comment IMO. Most people are going to talk about this episode's fantastic ending, in which Rory is basically written out of existence and everyone's memory except the Doctor's. Rory's exit is unexpected and very sad, especially following his death in "Amy's Choice," and Amy's desperation to get him back in that episode. At the end of "Cold Blood," Amy doesn't even remember that Rory existed, which is all the more poignant after her indifference to him in previous episodes even though they were supposed to get married. One might think of it as Rory's worst fear, as he was always very jealous of the Doctor and unsure of his position in Amy's heart. Furthermore, this ending mirrors the show's season 4 finale and Donna's loss of memory of the Doctor. Perhaps the Doctor's painful memories of Donna explains his vaguely paternalistic behavior towards Amy in the following episode. More on that later.

I think the rest of the episode is just as good. We have human nature rearing its ugly head as the Silurian trapped with the humans eagerly anticipates her death so that her people will start a war--and her wish is ultimately fulfilled. There are also some great scenes with Amy and Nasreen negotiating with the Silurians, and attempting to find a way for humans and Silurians to share the Earth. I was unsure about the use of the narrator at first, but I think it actually worked, especially after the ending when they decide to use religion to prepare the humans for the return of the Silurians, which I think is actually a really cool concept.

The next episode, "Vincent and the Doctor" was penned by Love Actually's Richard Curtis, and you can tell. It's totally cheesy in many of the same ways as Love Actually, and I love it in many of the same ways. In this ep, Amy and the Doctor travel back in time to meet Vincent van Gogh and fight a silly invisible chicken monster. Much of the main characters' fawning over Vincent's paintings and the painter's low self-esteem verges on "yes, we get it" territory, but the episode handled his insanity well, and the chemistry between the three was absolutely wonderful.

I'm definitely enjoying the Doctor more and more as he is revealing himself to be incredibly affectionate and tender in a different way from his predecessors. He allows himself a lot of intimacy with Amy--not in a sexual way--that's really adorable to watch. He's always hugging her, pressing their faces together, and kissing Amy's forehead in a way that I suppose could be described as paternalistic--especially as he's so concerned about her after her loss of Rory, which she doesn't even remember--but honestly just gives me the warm fuzzies (yes, I'm easy).

The defeat of the monster was weak. Apparently, it was just blind and scared, and Vincent kills it by accident, and then completely over-identifies with it in a way that's sort of embarrassing to watch. But the rest of the episode really makes up for this. There's a wonderful scene in which the three lie on the ground holding hands and looking at the stars (again, cheesy, but sort of beautiful), and by this point I was ready for Vincent to travel with the two for awhile. Luckily, he does get one trip: to an art museum in 2010 where he sees that he's become appreciated as one of the greatest artists of all time. Again, this scene had the potential to make you barf, but the actors really sell it. Tony Curran, in particular, is really affecting as the tearful, overwhelmed-with-gratitude-and-wonder Vincent. And while it may seem unbelievable to Amy that van Gogh still killed himself after their adventure, the show manages to make us feel okay about that, too.

Overall, I'd call these two of the most successful episodes all season so far.

Happy Memorial Day!

Okay, this is probably completely old news, but I never professed to be a history buff--especially war history. But I wanted to look at a different side of Memorial Day, without getting into the politics of the rights or wrongs of war.

Obviously, World War II had its share of badass ladies: women who went to work and took on what were then (and now, really) considered "men's jobs" to help with the war effort and make some extra money. But I hadn't, until this morning when my mom told me about a story she'd seen on the Today show, been aware of the WASPs (Women Airforce Service Pilots) of WWII.

While the MSNBC article says that "Their mission was to fly noncombat missions to free up male pilots to fly overseas," 38 of these women ended up being killed in service. Despite this, they received almost no recognition and weren't even considered veterans until 1977. These women "weren't considered 'real' military pilots. No flags were draped over their coffins when they died on duty. And when their service ended, they had to pay their own bus fare home."

They were awarded the Congressional Gold Medal in March 2010. WASP pilot Ty Hughes Killen remarked, "I really don't care for publicity but what I really do care about is the 900 or more that are already dead and gone and have not had the cognizance and recognition that I feel they should have for their families."

So when you go about your Memorial Day festivities, I hope you'll take a moment to recognize and reflect on those war heroes who tend to go unsung and unrecognized, and realize that there are a lot more people involved in war than we often see.

The Pursuit of Happiness

Okay no, I'm not actually talking about the movie.

Lately, I've been on this big "happiness" kick--self-help books, meditation, the whole thing. It may seem silly, but I do have some emotional issues. I've been known to fly off the handle at the least provocation; any unpleasant surprises, and I go nuts. Which, needless to say, isn't good. Unnecessary stress over stupid things is definitely unhealthy, and some things really just aren't worth taking too seriously.

So one of the books I've read recently is the Dalai Lama's The Art of Happiness. I have a lot of respect for the Dalai Lama, and I like that his advice doesn't focus on religion. But I had a hard time with this book, which I believe is mostly my fault. I found myself misunderstanding a lot of his points at first, and jumped to conclusions before he had finished a thought. It sometimes seemed as if a lot of what he was saying was very passive--that we should submit to oppression, have compassion for our enemies, see the good in every situation. But reading further, it became apparent that while he was saying these things to an extent, when it comes to the big things, he was clear that people should do whatever was necessary for their own protection if they are threatened with real harm. The Dalai Lama's own life illustrates that he is not at all passive. While he advises us to remain happy and see the good in just about every situation, that doesn't mean that we can't still recognize the bad and work to make it better. The Dalai Lama himself has done phenomenal work advocating for world peace, human rights, and environmental stewardship.

I'm also in the process of reading Don't Sweat the Small Stuff, which by the title, sounds like the perfect book for me. Unfortunately, I'm having many of the same problems with it as I had with The Art of Happiness. The subtitle of the book, "and it's all small stuff" is wildly offensive to me, and I wish it hadn't been included. Because Carlson is not actually saying that war, genocide, and poverty are "small stuff," but the subtitle sure as hell makes it sound as if he is. Much of Carlson's advice is similar to the Dalai Lama's, but if you only read the chapter titles and don't pay much attention to the actual content of the chapters (there are 100 chapters, each one devoted to a different piece of advice), it's easy to believe that the author really doesn't think there are any "big" issues. Some of his advice includes, "Let Others Be 'Right' Most of the Time" (12), "Surrender to the Fact that Life Isn't Fair" (17), "Choose Being Kind over Being Right" (37), "When in Doubt about Whose Turn It Is to Take Out the Trash, Go Ahead and Take It Out" (40), and "Think of What You Have Instead of What You Want" (66). I could see some of this advice having unintended consequences.

For example, taking out the trash yourself is all well and good, but what if it's something like finding yourself doing all of the housework even though both you and your husband have full-time jobs? Should you do anything to rectify the situation or simply continue doing all of the housework, possibly to the detriment of your physical and emotional health? Does it extend to people taking advantage of you? My point is, just because it's small stuff now, doesn't mean it can't turn into bigger stuff, which probably should've been nipped in the bud when it was still small.

Also, accepting that life isn't fair and being grateful for what you have instead of thinking about what you want has implications akin to anti-feminists telling women to appreciate the strides they've already made and STFU essentially. The bad stuff just isn't as important as the good stuff so there's no need to get all worked up about it.

But is not being constantly "happy" really that bad? In a recent article, Rebecca Traister takes issue with the cultural idea that people are supposed to be happy. She claims that unhappiness can potentially have very positive effects,

Unhappiness is propellant; disappointment and dismay prompt us to work for a better grade, to ask for a promotion or seek a new job, to search for a more affordable or comfortable abode, to go out at night and meet someone new, to try to get pregnant or decide not to have another kid. More specifically, the elements of life that make us sad or upset or bored show us what we do not want; they give shape and specificity to what it is we do want and perhaps the motivation to work toward it. That which leaves us empty prompts us to find what we want to fill us up, whether it results in picking up a phone to talk to a friend or picking up and moving to Bali.

In archetypal American rags-to-riches stories, the dissatisfactions of poverty and degradation are what provoke heroes to make their giant forward leaps. In my far more privileged experience, fear, humiliation and error provided me with the fuel, the desire and the ambition to move away from where I was and toward something else, something that quite often turned out to be better. For that transformative power, I give unhappiness a lot of credit.

I once had a therapist who, overall, was completely wonderful, but in hindsight I do remember him saying something that I now think is completely wrong. He asked me, "If you stop worrying about all this political stuff, what really happens? Does the world end?" My answer now would be, "Nothing would happen, which is actually a big fucking problem." If everyone stopped worrying about all the political stuff, nothing would ever change. Or chances are, the bad people would feel validated and things would be worse. Like, I know that the sexist characterization of Amy Pond on Doctor Whomay not seem like a big deal, but it is a reflection of a larger cultural problem of denying women agency over their sexuality/bodies/lives. Ignoring small instances of sexism, even on tv, definitely doesn't help the problem, and, best case scenario allows the status quo to remain in place. Worst case scenario, it gives the perpetrators of the problem a free pass to continue and even escalate their actions.

So while I plan to continue working on my emotional issues and trying to be a less stressed, even a happier person, I think I'll set aside some of my personal comfort and reject the notion that "it's a small stuff." And while I'm worrying about the bit stuff, I think I'll continue to "sweat the small stuff" if it means that any miniscule part of this world could potentially change for the better.

ETA: Sorry about the weird formatting issues in this one. I can't seem to fix it, nor do I know what happened.

Amy's Choice

Okay, this blog is (probably) not going to be all Doctor Who all the time, but it is my favorite show, and many of these episodes have really interesting elements to them that, being obsessive, I can’t just ignore.

So I just finished watching the newest episode “Amy’s Choice,” and I currently have a lot of half-formed ideas and opinions that I will now foist upon the world—some of which may come into play later on in the season.

As a whole, the episode was really good—miles better than “Vampires of Venice.” The monsters were cool, the conclusion was really emotional and dramatic, and it proved what we’ve all known for some time: old people are terrifying.

I had high hopes for the episode from just the title. “Amy’s Choice” led me to think that Amy would be getting back some of the agency that she lost last week, and it worked out that way, to an extent. In the episode, the Doctor, Amy, and Rory are confronted with two dangerous situations in two different realities—one of which they are told is a dream and one of which is the real universe—and it becomes Amy’s job to choose which one is which. The reason for this is not entirely clear. The episode’s villain of the week, the “Dream Lord” claims that it’s because the Doctor and Rory are “Amy’s men,” and will abide by whatever she chooses. Upon reflection, maybe it’s more because the reality of the TARDIS flying into the cold star is clearly the Doctor’s world while the reality of the tiny village and pregnant Amy is clearly Rory’s world, and Amy is the one stuck in the middle of the two?

Anyway, so Amy finally chooses, but only after Rory dies in the tiny village reality and she decides that she doesn’t want to live without him. Although, if the Doctor had been the one to die in the tiny village reality, I feel like Amy would have done the same thing. Basically after anyone died in either reality, I would expect the other two to follow suit, and prove that the other reality was the real one, so the tension was sort of gone after that moment. I'm no television writer, but I think I would rather that Amy were forced to choose without Rory dying. The choice was too easy whether she was in love with him or not, especially since Amy didn’t seem too keen on Rory’s reality anyway, and only pretended to like it because she didn't want to hurt Rory's feelings. I wish she could have confronted Rory about what she really wanted—because it’s possibly to love Rory and yet not necessarily want to live an ultra-quiet life staying home and nine months pregnant and cooking and living with a husband who makes such unfortunate hairstyle choices. Wanting Rory and a life of adventure don’t have to be mutually exclusive.

Then there’s the Doctor. I started the season very ambivalent about him, but since then, I’ve started to see real differences between him and David Tennant. In “Flesh and Stone,” particularly, he showed a very tender side with Amy. In “Vampires of Venice,” though, he denied Amy’s agency by insisting that Amy loved Rory. Now, "Amy's Choice" has the Doctor competing with Rory for Amy’s affections in a way sort of reminiscent of Mickey and Nine, but in a more annoying way, especially in light of last week. There is a wonderful moment, though, when Amy decides to kill herself in Rory’s reality, and the Doctor completely accepts her decision and calmly, trustingly, gets in the car beside her.

In this ep, though, it seems that the Doctor has mostly lost his mojo. He just doesn’t seem to do a whole lot. And maybe it’s his youth (visually speaking), but Amy and Rory, as companions, seem to have very little respect for him, which is, on one hand, good that they’re not treating him like an all-powerful god who’s so much better than them, but also a bit disturbing. Furthermore, we find out that the Dream Lord was actually the Doctor’s dark side made manifest (or something), which is a cool idea, but, judging from the dialogue in most of the scenes with hero and villain together, it seems that this Doctor is somehow very, very self-conscious. Actually more than that: he's self-loathing. And again, while I don’t want him cocky, I also don’t want him always doubting himself. It just doesn’t seem very “Doctor-ish” to me.