2.4: The Girl In The Fireplace
Synopsis: A fifty-first century spaceship in disrepair is entirely oriented to the life of a particular woman, with time portals leading into different points in her life. She is Jeanne-Antoinette "Reinette" Poisson, a.k.a. Madame de Pompadour, mistress to King Louis XV. All her life, clockwork men stalk her, and she relies upon the Doctor to save her from them. As a teen, she falls smitten with him and remains so, and he finds that the feeling is rather mutual.
Mickey and Rose explore the spaceship and discover no crew, only incredibly disturbing examples of crew members' body parts removed and applied to the repair of the ailing ship. One more part is required to repair the ship: the brain of Madame de Pompadour, at the age of thirty-seven.
Sometime after her thirty-seventh birthday, the droids come for her. As the Doctor breaks through the sealed time portal to help her, all links with the ship break, and he is trapped in 18th century France. But Madame de Pompadour reveals that she had her childhood fireplace, the portal to and from her childhoood, sent to her at Versailles. Since it was off-line when the portals closed, the Doctor is able to open it again. He promises to show her the stars, but when he returns, too much time has passed, and she has died from illness. The Doctor departs in the TARDIS, utterly heartbroken, and when it disappears, it is revealed that the fifty-first century ship stalking the woman from the eighteenth was called SS Madame de Pompadour.
Golden Comic Moment: Once again, we are having trouble deciding between the funniest moments of a Steven Moffat script. Quelle surprise. But just for sheer over-the-top comic value, we'll choose the few minutes during which the Doctor is pretending to be sloshed, and sings, "I could have danced all night and still have begged for more! I could have spread my wings and done..." So much going on there. First of all, the Doctor having had a bit too much vino is a delicious idea, and really, it makes us wonder why he doesn't get hammered more often! Second of all, that hair held aloft with his necktie, and the glasses. What were they thinking putting him in that stuffy pinstriped suit when they could have dressed him like Rod Stewart all along? Third of all, we love David Tennant and bless him, he gives it his all, but he's no singer. And the fact that he goes for it anyway just makes it bloody brilliant.
And last but not least, the scene, before the Doctor reveals that it's a put-on, leaves many of us wondering, did he just get laid? (Ultimately, we think probably not, but it's an interesting idea. Perhaps the Tenth Doctor is trying to rack up the royals on his Time Lord bedpost notches... see later cringeworthy notes on Queen Elizabeth I.)
Golden Fangirl Moment: There are a bunch of cute squee moments in this episode ("I'm the Doctor and I just snogged Madame de Pompadour!"), but given the way the series has gone, it would be a crime not to mention the ongoing Moffatisms which are, with The Girl in the Fireplace, finding their way into the Doctor's world. After all, what does a fan do, if not point out continuity quirks?
1. "You've had some cowboys in here." The Tenth Doctor says this about the ship, he says it to Madame de Pompadour when he's scanning her brain (which, in context, actually winds up sounding a bit dirty), and the Eleventh Doctor says it to seven-year-old Amelia Pond when he's examining the crack in the wall.
2. I'm hardly the first one to notice this, but Moffat seems to enjoy the strain of a non-villainous villain, a being just doing its job. The Nanogenes, the clockwork men, the Weeping Angels, the Vashta Nerada - just doing their thing, what they were wired up to do. Although the Angels do become a bit malevolent later...
3. "Doctor who?" This episode has the second instance in which Moffat has a character ask that question. Rose asks it in The Empty Child, and Madame de Pompadour asks it here.
4. "Dance with me." There it is, that great big metaphor brought back to life in all of its flashing glory. So much has been made of Madame de Pompadour's invitation here and what happens next, in the time when we are not seeing them...
Cringeworthy Moment: "You and I both know, don't we, Rose? The Doctor is worth the monsters." Madame de Pompadour leaves the shot at this point, and Rose watches her go, with rather a reflective expression.
It's not exactly cringeworthy, in fact, I'd go so far as to say there may actually be nothing cringeworthy in any of the first four Moffat scripts for Doctor Who. It's more of an "oh please." On the heels of an episode that saw Rose lock horns rather violently with another woman in the Doctor's life, we're supposed to believe that she can survive that entire day on a spaceship, helping a clearly lovelorn Doctor save Madame de Pompadour, and never show the slightest sign of jealousy?
Steven Moffat has implied that he's not fond of Rose's rapport with the Tenth Doctor (which is another reason why we like him), and for the purposes of this story, he simply separated them. And when they do get the chance to comingle, all of the usual Doctor/Rose angst and drippyness gives us a much-needed break.
Golden Moment: It's a shame that the Golden Moment is such a grand one, one of the Doctor's greatest, and the actual footage is of a stunt man. Or more accurately, a stunt rider. With a mullet.
When the Doctor comes crashing through the mirror in the ballroom at Versailles on horseback, it is epic and beautiful, rather unexpected, and made all the more symphonic when one realises that he's knowingly trapped himself on the slow path. It is a moment of true old-fashioned heroics. Forget about solving the problem with chemicals or a giant machine, or with some timey-wimey trickery. The hero crashes through a mirror on horseback, and he does it for the love of a beautiful woman! And she's standing by, panting, beaming with excitement! How much more cinematic does it get than that? It's so different from the standard Doctor Who fodder, and for that matter from what we've come to expect from Moffat's repertoire, and yet, it is absolutely the Doctor, through and through. He sacrifices himself to save the day.
Why I Beg To Differ: The "mind-meld," as DWM points out is a science-fiction staple. Here, the Doctor and Madame de Pompoadour experience this phenomenon, and she gains insight into his lonely existence. She is the first and only friend of the Doctor's to ask how he can bear it, because she's the only one who has truly seen it. DWM names this as its Golden Moment because it's the point at which the series "grows up" and begins to confront the very dark question of the loneliness at the Doctor's core.
I would argue that this issue has been explored plenty, including in the previous episode! I consider this to be a moment of intimacy for the two characters, designed to bring them closer, and not a major leap for the show.
Not that the Doctor riding a horse and breaking a mirror is going to change television history as we know it, but it is something rather romantic that actually could make us stand up and shout!
Mickey and Rose explore the spaceship and discover no crew, only incredibly disturbing examples of crew members' body parts removed and applied to the repair of the ailing ship. One more part is required to repair the ship: the brain of Madame de Pompadour, at the age of thirty-seven.
Sometime after her thirty-seventh birthday, the droids come for her. As the Doctor breaks through the sealed time portal to help her, all links with the ship break, and he is trapped in 18th century France. But Madame de Pompadour reveals that she had her childhood fireplace, the portal to and from her childhoood, sent to her at Versailles. Since it was off-line when the portals closed, the Doctor is able to open it again. He promises to show her the stars, but when he returns, too much time has passed, and she has died from illness. The Doctor departs in the TARDIS, utterly heartbroken, and when it disappears, it is revealed that the fifty-first century ship stalking the woman from the eighteenth was called SS Madame de Pompadour.
Golden Comic Moment: Once again, we are having trouble deciding between the funniest moments of a Steven Moffat script. Quelle surprise. But just for sheer over-the-top comic value, we'll choose the few minutes during which the Doctor is pretending to be sloshed, and sings, "I could have danced all night and still have begged for more! I could have spread my wings and done..." So much going on there. First of all, the Doctor having had a bit too much vino is a delicious idea, and really, it makes us wonder why he doesn't get hammered more often! Second of all, that hair held aloft with his necktie, and the glasses. What were they thinking putting him in that stuffy pinstriped suit when they could have dressed him like Rod Stewart all along? Third of all, we love David Tennant and bless him, he gives it his all, but he's no singer. And the fact that he goes for it anyway just makes it bloody brilliant.
And last but not least, the scene, before the Doctor reveals that it's a put-on, leaves many of us wondering, did he just get laid? (Ultimately, we think probably not, but it's an interesting idea. Perhaps the Tenth Doctor is trying to rack up the royals on his Time Lord bedpost notches... see later cringeworthy notes on Queen Elizabeth I.)
Golden Fangirl Moment: There are a bunch of cute squee moments in this episode ("I'm the Doctor and I just snogged Madame de Pompadour!"), but given the way the series has gone, it would be a crime not to mention the ongoing Moffatisms which are, with The Girl in the Fireplace, finding their way into the Doctor's world. After all, what does a fan do, if not point out continuity quirks?
1. "You've had some cowboys in here." The Tenth Doctor says this about the ship, he says it to Madame de Pompadour when he's scanning her brain (which, in context, actually winds up sounding a bit dirty), and the Eleventh Doctor says it to seven-year-old Amelia Pond when he's examining the crack in the wall.
2. I'm hardly the first one to notice this, but Moffat seems to enjoy the strain of a non-villainous villain, a being just doing its job. The Nanogenes, the clockwork men, the Weeping Angels, the Vashta Nerada - just doing their thing, what they were wired up to do. Although the Angels do become a bit malevolent later...
3. "Doctor who?" This episode has the second instance in which Moffat has a character ask that question. Rose asks it in The Empty Child, and Madame de Pompadour asks it here.
4. "Dance with me." There it is, that great big metaphor brought back to life in all of its flashing glory. So much has been made of Madame de Pompadour's invitation here and what happens next, in the time when we are not seeing them...
Cringeworthy Moment: "You and I both know, don't we, Rose? The Doctor is worth the monsters." Madame de Pompadour leaves the shot at this point, and Rose watches her go, with rather a reflective expression.
It's not exactly cringeworthy, in fact, I'd go so far as to say there may actually be nothing cringeworthy in any of the first four Moffat scripts for Doctor Who. It's more of an "oh please." On the heels of an episode that saw Rose lock horns rather violently with another woman in the Doctor's life, we're supposed to believe that she can survive that entire day on a spaceship, helping a clearly lovelorn Doctor save Madame de Pompadour, and never show the slightest sign of jealousy?
Steven Moffat has implied that he's not fond of Rose's rapport with the Tenth Doctor (which is another reason why we like him), and for the purposes of this story, he simply separated them. And when they do get the chance to comingle, all of the usual Doctor/Rose angst and drippyness gives us a much-needed break.
Golden Moment: It's a shame that the Golden Moment is such a grand one, one of the Doctor's greatest, and the actual footage is of a stunt man. Or more accurately, a stunt rider. With a mullet.
When the Doctor comes crashing through the mirror in the ballroom at Versailles on horseback, it is epic and beautiful, rather unexpected, and made all the more symphonic when one realises that he's knowingly trapped himself on the slow path. It is a moment of true old-fashioned heroics. Forget about solving the problem with chemicals or a giant machine, or with some timey-wimey trickery. The hero crashes through a mirror on horseback, and he does it for the love of a beautiful woman! And she's standing by, panting, beaming with excitement! How much more cinematic does it get than that? It's so different from the standard Doctor Who fodder, and for that matter from what we've come to expect from Moffat's repertoire, and yet, it is absolutely the Doctor, through and through. He sacrifices himself to save the day.
Why I Beg To Differ: The "mind-meld," as DWM points out is a science-fiction staple. Here, the Doctor and Madame de Pompoadour experience this phenomenon, and she gains insight into his lonely existence. She is the first and only friend of the Doctor's to ask how he can bear it, because she's the only one who has truly seen it. DWM names this as its Golden Moment because it's the point at which the series "grows up" and begins to confront the very dark question of the loneliness at the Doctor's core.
I would argue that this issue has been explored plenty, including in the previous episode! I consider this to be a moment of intimacy for the two characters, designed to bring them closer, and not a major leap for the show.
Not that the Doctor riding a horse and breaking a mirror is going to change television history as we know it, but it is something rather romantic that actually could make us stand up and shout!