Rate New Who Series

ClockworkOcean wrote:TL;DR:
- Ambivalent to mildly irritated by the early RTD era
- Interest began to grow with Series 4
- Greatly enjoyed the early Moffat era
- Interest declined with Series 7
- Somewhat perked up with Series 8
- Critically wounded with Series 9
- Irreparably destroyed with Series 11

Series 1: It's far too focused on pandering to the mainstream EastEnders crowd, there's nowhere near enough of a focus on exploration, the cheesy attempts at humour mostly fall flat, and it badly mischaracterises the Doctor, but it's still better than its two immediate successors. Rose was considerably less obnoxious before the romance arc, and the emphasis on sci-fi ideas is head and shoulders above Series 2. 'Dalek' and 'The Empty Child/The Doctor Dances' are the obvious highlights. The only time the Daleks have ever been handled reasonably well in NuWho.

Series 2: Easily the worst of the RTD era. Turning such a well-established asexual grandfather figure into an endlessly flirtatious womaniser was a dick move. The Tennant/Rose romance aimed squarely at capturing the horny teenage girl audience was an unwelcome development. It featured some of the most simplistic and insubstantial storytelling the show has ever seen. Turning the Cybermen into Daleks on legs was a stupid idea. The 'Love & Monsters/Fear Her' double bill was a new low. 'The Impossible Planet/The Satan Pit' is the only story of interest to the Classic Who fan. Next.

Series 3: Slightly better. Less self-indulgent soap opera crap, slightly less domestic stuff, a little more sci-fi focus and a more likeable companion. The first half feels pretty uninspired. 'Blink' is the only truly great story. Fuck the finale for teasing us with the prospect of a Jacobi Master before giving us Simm. Fuck RTD for letting Chibnall anywhere near this franchise.

Series 4: By far the most consistent of the RTD era. There's still a lot of guff, but a higher proportion of strong stories than in previous years, a greater emphasis on conceptual sci-fi, and a welcome return to a purely platonic Doctor/companion relationship. The winning streak from 'Silence in the Library' to 'Turn Left' was the most consistent NuWho had been up to this point. The finale was highly flawed in so many ways, but Julian Bleach's performance as Davros was excellent. As for the 2009 specials, only 'The Waters of Mars' is of merit. Bernard Cribbins was the only good thing about the obnoxiously self-indulgent 'End of Time'.

Series 5: Without a doubt the pinnacle of the revival and the closest it came to recapturing the glory of TruWho. Smith & Moffat restored the Doctor to an ancient, unearthly, whimsical, professorial boffin who explored the universe with a sense of childlike wonder. The soap opera domestic shit was significantly reduced, 'The Eleventh Hour' wipes the floor with any other modern Doctor debut, the Angel two-parter was great (I can overlook the inconsistencies), the Dream Lord was a fantastic villain, the time cracks mystery was compelling, and the historicals were actually enjoyable for a change. I didn't like James Corden, Chibnall's Titlurians (though it's his by far his best story simply because of how derivative it is), or the Power Ranger Daleks, but everything else was solid. In spite of everything that's happened since, I still have a great deal of affection for this era.

Series 6: Still pretty good. It's retroactively damaged by the rushed and unsatisfactory conclusion to the Silence arc, and definitely has a few more duds than Series 5, but it still represents NuWho at its most creatively unbound and unapologetic about being a science fiction show, not to mention the last ever glimpse of an uncucked Moffat before he started letting the BBC bigwigs and toxic elements of fandom call the shots. The opening two-parter introduced an excellent new villain in the Silents; I loved the setting and celebration of classic American pulp sci-fi tropes. 'The Doctor's Wife', 'The Girl Who Waited' and 'The God Complex' are three examples of NuWho at its best - tight, well-constructed sci-fi mysteries with a good dose of horror. 'A Good Man Goes to War' and 'The Wedding of River Song' are a little too style-over-substance, but I'll take them over London-based domestic soap tedium anyday.

Series 7A: Disappointing. The beginning of Moffat's excruciatingly long fall from grace. There had been a massive backlash against Series 6 from RTD fanboys who didn't like having to think about what they were watching. Whether due to BBC pressure or his own insecurity, Moffat responded to this by suddenly abandoning the past two years of build-up, leaving his own fans in limbo and focusing on a series of markedly less interesting standalone episodes. Matt, Karen & Arthur helped to retain some of the charm, but the sense of magic and inspiration of the first two years was gone. 'Asylum' began a trend of poor Moffat Dalek stories that made them look incredibly stupid and ineffectual. Chibnall was brought in to write some bland, domestic RTD imitation crap. Whithouse's wild west story was okay. The Angels Take Manhattan was jumbled and incoherent. Not the worst series by any means, but notably the first to feature no real standouts. The beginning of the Moffat era's decline.

Series 7B:The stories were marginally more entertaining. Clara's character was ill-defined. Not a bad series but again, largely forgettable. No must-see episodes here. I don't have anything more to say about the actual series. 'Day of the Doctor' had its merits, but certainly wasn't what the 50th anniversary special should have been. 'Time of the Doctor' was a rushed and tonally inconsistent end to an era that deserved better. Smith's performance was great, but the anticlimactic end to the Silence arc was like a massive slap in the face.

Series 8: I was instantly hooked by Capaldi's performance and loved the dark, morally ambiguous take on the character, but I was increasingly frustrated by the frequently mediocre stories and wondered why such a compelling character was constantly being side-lined in favour of a tedious MOR romcom about two fucking schoolteachers. I had only just become aware of the SJW craze and had no idea how pervasive it was becoming. While a few things did stick out (Missy being the biggest red flag), I initially dismissed my concern as paranoia. I still love 'Mummy on the Orient Express', but that's about it story-wise. In retrospect, the original iteration of Capaldi's Doctor was the only thing keeping me invested, and that was all about to change...

Series 9: This was the straw that broke the camel's back, for numerous reasons. The Doctor I found so compelling the previous year was gone. Moffat had sold out to the Tennant fangirls and drastically watered down his character. I was excited about the return to multi-part stories and foolishly hoped the show would begin to more closely resemble Classic Who. Instead, it became more vacuous than ever before, full of 45-minute stories lazily padded out to double-length with pointless filler and embarrassing empty spectacle. 'Under the Lake/Before the Flood' was the only one that actually justified its length. The SJW propaganda was now too prominent to ignore. The frequent anti-male snipes, the Doctor's general weakness, the fact that there were suddenly no high-ranking men whatsoever in UNIT, replaced by flawless female commanders berating their gullible, idiotic white male canon fodder, and the removal of all significant male Time Lords including a gender swap regeneration. 'Heaven Sent' was a tragically brief return to form, a maddening glimpse of how great the Capaldi era could've been if Moffat weren't such a status-obsessed, insecure weakling. I didn't actually see it until last year because I lost interest after part one of that dreadful Zygon story. Hell Bent squandered the return of Gallifrey and was largely an exercise in anti-male posturing. Moffat's bizarre need to kick just about every sacred cow imaginable felt incredibly cheap and showcases his grotesque egotism at its worst.

Series 10: A definite improvement, but still not very good. A fair chunk of the stories were at least rooted in decent sci-fi concepts, and he'd thankfully stopped padding out stories into hollow two-parters. The aging rocker shtick was toned down and the Doctor was written with a little more care. Bill was a more likeable character than Clara, but the millennial pandering and SJW quips pissed me off. Even Missy was handled a little better here, even though she was still nothing like The Master, a character who should NEVER have been given this sort of redemption arc. There were a few too many forgettable filler episodes. Twice Upon a Time's treatment of Hartnell's Doctor was fucking disgusting, and if I still considered NuWho canon (I don't), The Doctor Falls would be where I'd end it.

Series 11: Pure, unadulterated, worthless shite without so much as a single redeeming quality, other than that it was the final nail in the coffin of what little naïve hope I still had that NuWho could ever evolve into the show it always should have been, giving me the perfect excuse to finally expunge it from my headcanon and purify my perception of the legacy.

ClockworkOcean wrote:For a long time, I was baffled as to how Moffat could have let this happen. Reading his old rival Lawrence Miles' accounts of interacting with him back in the Fitzroy Tavern days was informative. He paints a picture of a painfully insecure, status-obsessed man desperate to be popular, desperate to be perceived as mature, cool, sophisticated and respectable, terrified of being exposed as the nerdy sci-fi enthusiast he is at heart. Sure, it's the unverified testimony of one man, but it would certainly explain his bizarre, career-spanning history of contradicting himself on a constant basis.

One minute, he's berating us about how it's just a dumb kids show for seven-year-olds and we shouldn't take it too seriously; next minute, he's broadcasting episodes suggesting that the dead remain conscious and showing a blood-soaked Doctor committing suicide by electrocution. In 2013, he publicly mocks the notion of a female Doctor and vows never to let gender-swapping regenerations happen; by 2018, he's been responsible for three and he's viciously attacking fans who question the decision. In 1996, he describes Tom Baker as a "complete moron"; in 2013 he invites him back for an honorary guest appearance in the 50th anniversary special. He's frequently mentioned feeling embarrassed to be a fan, and there are accounts of him mocking people at Fitzroy for indulging in similar geeky interests.

That's his problem - he'll say or do just about anything to get in with the in-crowd.

When Series 5 was the underdog, widely praised as an unexpected triumph and Series 6 was exploding across the Atlantic, everything was hunky dory. The moment some controversy began to stir, his confidence plummeted. All the RTD fanboys and ideological parasites had to do pile on the smallest amount of pressure, and he became putty in their hands. It's a damn shame, because when he takes his ego out of the equation, he's a wonderfully imaginative writer.

Still, that's not our problem. He's an irresponsible cunt for letting his emotional insecurity contribute to the destruction of an internationally beloved, 56-year-old franchise. History will judge him as such.

Steven Moffat wrote:Back when I was in my early twenties, I thought Doctor Who was the scariest programme on television. I had one particular Who-inspired nightmare which haunts me to this day — except it wasn't a nightmare at all, it was something that happened to me on a regular basis. I'd be sitting watching Doctor Who on a Saturday, absolutely as normal... but I'd be in the company of my friends!!

Being a fan is an odd thing, isn't it? I was in little doubt — though I never admitted it, even to myself — that Doctor Who was nowhere near as good as it should have been, but for whatever reason I'd made that mysterious and deadly emotional connection with the show that transforms you into a fan and like a psychotically devoted supporter of a floundering football club, I turned out every Saturday in my scarf, grimly hoping the production team would finally score.

Of course my friends all knew my devotion to the Doctor had unaccountably survived puberty and had long since ceased to deride me for it. I think (I hope) they generally considered me someone of reasonable taste and intelligence and decided to indulge me in this one, stunningly eccentric lapse. And sometimes, on those distant Saturday afternoons before domestic video my nightmare would begin. I'd be stuck out somewhere with those friends and I'd realise in a moment of sweaty panic that I wasn't going to make it home in time for the programme—or worse, they' d be round at my house not taking the hint to leave — so on my infantile insistence we'd all troop to the nearest television and settle down to watch, me clammy with embarrassment at what was to come, my friends tolerant, amused and even open-minded.

And the music would start. And I'd grip the arms of my chair. And I'd pray! Just this once, I begged, make it good. Not great, not fantastic —just good. Don't, I was really saying, show me up.

And sometimes it would start really quite well. There might even be a passable effects shot (there were more of those than you might imagine) and possibly a decent establishing scene where this week's expendable guest actors popped outside to investigate that mysterious clanking/groaning/beeping/slurping sound before being found horribly killed/gibbering mad an episode later.

At this point I might actually relax a little. I might even start breathing and let my hair unclench. And then it would be happen. The star of the show would come rocketing through the door, hit a shuddering halt slap in the middle of the set and stare at the camera like (and let's be honest here) a complete moron.

I'd hear my friends shifting in their chairs. I could hear sniggers tactfully suppressed. Once one of them remarked (with touching gentleness, mindful of my feelings) that this really wasn't terribly good acting.

Of course, as even they would concede, Tom Baker (for it was he) had been good once — even terrific — but he had long since disappeared up his own art in a seven-year-long act of self-destruction that took him from being a dangerous young actor with a future to a sad, mad old ham safely locked away in a voice-over booth.

Which brings us, of course, to Peter Davison (for it was about to be him). I was appalled when he was cast. I announced to my bored and blank-faced friends that Davison was far too young, far too pretty, and far, far too wet to play television's most popular character (as, I deeply regret to say, I described the Doctor). Little did I realise, back in 1982, that after years of anxious waiting on the terraces in my front room, my home team were about to score — or that Davison was about to do something almost never before seen in the role of the Doctor. He was going to act.

Let's get something straight, because if you don't know now it's time you did. Davison was the best of the lot. Number One! It's not a big coincidence or some kind of evil plot, that he's played more above-the-title lead roles on the telly than the rest of the Doctors put together. It's because-get this!-he's the best actor.

You don't believe me? Okay, let's check out the opposition, Doctor-wise (relax, I'll be gentle).

1. William Hartnell. Look, he didn't know his lines! (okay, fairly gentle. It wasn't his fault) and it's sort of a minimum requirement of the lead actor dial he knows marginally more about what's going to happen next than the audience. In truth, being replaceable was his greatest gift to the series. Had the first Doctor delivered a wonderful performance they almost certainly would not have considered a recast and the show would have died back in the sixties.

2. Patrick Troughton. Marvellous! Troughton, far more than the dispensable, misremembered Hartnell, was the template for the Doctors to come and indeed his performance is the most often cited as precedent for his successors. Trouble is, the show in those days was strictly for indulgent ten-year-olds (and therefore hard to judge as an adult). Damn good, though, and Davison's sole competitor.

3. Jon Pertwee. The idea of a sort of Jason King with a sillier frock isn't that seductive, really, is it? In fairness he carried a certain pompous gravitas and was charismatic enough to dominate the proceedings as the Doctor should. Had his notion of the character been less straightforwardly heroic he might have pulled off something a little more interesting. His Worzel Gummidge, after all,is inspired and wonderful.

4. Tom Baker. Thunderingly effective at the start, even if his interpretation did seem to alter entirely to fit this week's script. (Compare, say, THE SEEDS OF DOOM and THE CITY OF DEATH. Is this supposed to be the same person?) I think I've said quite enough already about his sad decline so let's just say that it's nice to see him back on top form in Medics. Well, is was while it lasted.

5. Colin Baker and Sylvester McCoy. Miscast and floundering. Neither made much impression on the role and none at all on the audience. Or at least on me.


So what makes Davison — for me — the best, and his episodes the ones I wouldn't mind watching in the company of my most cynical and sarcastic friends? I'm certainly not claiming the show was suddenly high art or great drama — it was after all, the adventures of space man in a frock coat who lives in a flying telephone box — but for a brief three years it seemed to take the job of being an entertaining, adventure-romp for kids of all
ages with just the right mix of seriousness and vivacity, the way Lois And Clark does so adroitly now and the leading man, bless him. was really delivering.

It's become traditional to say that the Doctor is not an acting part — I think Tom Baker started it and he certainly seemed increasingly determined to prove it true. This is, of course, nonsense. Like any other heroic character in melodrama, James Bond, Sherlock Holmes,Tarzan — he has his motivations and fallibilities. In fact, the Doctor's are rather well defined — perhaps unusually so, for a "Hero'.

We know him to be a sort of academic aristocrat who one day, on a simple moral imperative, erupts from the cloisters and roars through time and space on a mission to end all evil in the universe, unarmed and,if possible, politely.

Consider for a moment — as you would have to if you were casting this part — what kind of man makes a decision like that? He's profoundly emotional (it's a profoundly emotional decision), he's idealistic (unarmed?? Not even a truncheon??), he feels the suffering of others with almost unbearable acuteness (or he'd have stayed at home like we all do when there s a famine or a massacre on the news), he's almost insanely impulsive (I don't think I need explain that one) and he is, above all, an innocent — because only an innocent would try to take on the entire cosmos and hope to persuade it to behave a little better. Now look at the seven Doctors. Which one best fits the picture? Which one could you see acting this way? Be honest — it's number five.

It wouldn't surprise me, given the meticulous actor Davison is known to be, that some of the above was actually thought through and consciously foregrounded in his interpretation. Certainly, he seemed to reject the theatrical eccentricity of his predecessors (leading to the ridiculous criticisms that he's 'bland' and 'wet') in favour of a more visceral, emotional performance, emphasising the Doctor's anxieties and escalating panic in the face of disaster.

Davison's Doctor is beautifully unaware that he is a hero — he simply responds as he feels he must when confronted with evil and injustice, and does so with a very 'human' sense of fluster and outrage. In one of the comparatively few perfect decisions in Doctor Who, Davison is allowed to finally expire saving, not the entire universe, but just one life. This isn't to show, as has been suggested, that he's any less capable or powerful than the other Doctors —just that, for him, saving one life is as great an imperative as saving a galaxy. This, then, is the Doctor as I believe he ought to be — someone who would brave a supernova to rescue a kitten from a tree.

But that's not the whole picture, is it? A terrific central performance — but what about the stories? Astonishingly, they were pretty damn good too. Only Twice in the whole run did the show lapse into the embarrassing (TIME-FLIGHT and WARRIORS OF THE DEEP) which, given my team's previous propensity for own goals, showed amazing restraint and there were whole runs of straight-forward but corkingly well realised yarns (THE VISITATION, FRONTIOS, MAWDRYN UNDEAD, RESURRECTION OF THE DALEKS, ENLIGHTENMENT, THE AWAKENING, THE FIVE DOCTORS and quite a few others). And there were some real stand-outs, weren't there? EARTHSHOCK, for instance, while having a story crafted almost entirely out of gaping plot holes had some cracking set pieces, thumping good direction, and some real 'moments' (Davison's first sighting of the Cybermen being my favourite). THE CAVES OF ANDROZANI, while again needing some tightening up on the plot front (I mean just where was the Doc during episode 3) was also superbly directed, had a terrific guest villain (Christopher Gable) and Davison's all time best Doctor performance as his heart-breaking doomed innocent gives his all to save a woman he's only just met.

Best of all, of course, there was KINDA and there was SNAKEDANCE and if you don't know those are the two best Who stories ever you probably stopped reading after I slagged off Tom Baker anyway.

I find it genuinely surprising that Who fans don't routinely consider the Davison era to be their finest hour. It's only serious competition in terms of consistency and quality are the early Tom Baker stories and those, being largely a set of one-note Hammer hand-me-downs, lack the same variety and ambition.

Is it because Davison doesn't fit the established, middle-aged image of the Time Lord — even though, with twelve regenerations the Doctor must be a rather young Gallifreyan with, we know, a definitively youthful, rebellious outlook? Is it that some fans had actually latched on to tackier, more juvenile style of the earlier seasons and actually missed that approach? Whatever the explanation, if it's possible for anyone to watch something like KINDA and not realise the show was suddenly in a whole different class then I find that slightly worrying. Perhaps — no definitely — there's something about being a fan that skews your critical judgements.

Still, never mind all that. Back when the Eighties were young, and I was still one of those fans, all I cared about was that my show was suddenly kicking sci-fi bottom and I was proud and renewed in my faith. And once, on a visit to London, I persuaded my smart and cynical (and now slightly older) friends that Doctor Who really was a new and better show — respectable, intelligent, well made. And I persuaded them, for the first time in a long time, to watch an episode with me. I wasn't forced to, this time — I had a VCR recording at home, I could always see it later — but I wanted to surprise them with just how much better my team was playing.

Self loathing fanboy cuck wrote:Apologies for bumping this thread but for the world's most angriest Scot who keeps sharing this thread on other sites to show how Moffat was bullied by social justice thingies, get some therapy.
Seriously get some therapy.