4.X: Voyage of the Damned (2007 Christmas Special)
Synopsis: The TARDIS crashes into a ship, unbelievably, labeled Titanic. Turns out it's a luxury passenger starship, orbiting the Earth, and the Doctor promptly joins the party, quickly attracting the attention of a flirtatious waitress named Astrid.
Before long, the Captain has sabotaged the airshields (for money) and the ship is struck by a violent meteor shower, which kills numerous passengers and puts the ship's engines in danger. This is bad news, because once the engines go, the ship loses orbit and crashes into the Earth, and the engine is a Nuclear Storm Drive, which would wipe out life on the Doctor's second-favourite planet.
Dodging "The Host," some information robot angels with a vendetta, the Doctor and Astrid join a band of rag-tag survivors, and they attempt to make their way through the broken ship toward something called Deck 31. There, they hope to find a hub for the Host, and some answers. When he arrives, the Doctor finds Max Capricorn, CEO of the company that owns the ship, now a cyborg, stowed away. The Doctor works out Capricorn's business plan wherein he crashes the ship into the Earth and walks away with heaps of cash. Astrid, who had only recently agreed to travel with the Doctor, turns up with a forklift and drives the Capricorn cyborg, and herself, into the storm drive.
As the ship dives into the Earth, the Doctor literally leans back on the throttle with all his strength to avert the crash. Afterwards, the Doctor attempts to resurrect Astrid via a teleport bracelet she had been wearing when she fell, but he is unsuccessful, and instead, he releases her consciousness into the cosmos.
Golden Comic Moment: "I shall be taking you to old Londontown in the country of UK, ruled over by Good King Wenceslas. Now, human beings worship the great god Santa, a creature with fearsome claws, and his wife Mary." Poor old Mr. Copper, with his "Earthonomics" degree from a dry cleaner, has no flipping idea what he's talking about. It's quite entertaining to hear his misinformation, his jumble of history/mythology soup. It's rather tempting to wonder if Russell T. Davies was making a point with this, showing how mixed-up all of our traditions and beliefs have become. Enjoy Christmas! Who cares if it's Santa or Mary? The truth lies somewhere in-between anyhow!
But while it makes us smile to hear Mr. Copper's nuttiness, the real laugh comes with the Doctor's initial reaction to him. The left eyebrow very slowly makes its way upward, and absolutely nothing else about his face moves. He is, of course, well-informed on the human race and Christmas, and is baffled by Mr. Copper, but still too nice to say anything.
Honorable mention must go to, "Allons-y, Alonzo!" We know it's dumb, but that's why it's fun.
Golden Fangirl Moment: Sigh. Ten in a tux.
Sorry, we know this has been cited as a Golden Fangirl element before, but it just cannot be denied: there is something about that man in that tux. Perhaps its the incongruous shoes. Yeah, we're used to the suit and the Converse, but perhaps the Converse with a tuxedo hints at just that much more audacity. Perhaps it's that somehow, the self-assured swagger grows more pronounced, sexier and also carries more weight in a crisis. Perhaps it's the James Bond connection that Martha mentioned, the suggestion that a man-of-action cannot be boxed into formalwear without getting well and truly mussed... or mussing someone else. Perhaps it's simply the nod to beauty, romance, the idea that the Doctor might get dressed up, attend a party, and dance with a pretty girl!
And if we can't put our finger on what it is about the tux, then we certainly can't put our finger on what it is about the undone bowtie. Just... shiver.
Cringeworthy Moment: Well, you might be sick of hearing about it by now, but it needs to be said: Martha. All of this takes place (minus the Children in Need Special with Peter Davison) about five seconds after Martha leaves. He is awfully quick to jump on the bandwagon with the next pretty blonde in a short skirt, isn't he? Where's the period of brooding? Where's the acknowledgement of feeling at least somewhat raw over having lost someone who just saved the bloody world? Like, yesterday? Sigh.
Aaaaanyway, as you may have guessed, the Cringeworthy Moment is a bit of Doctor/Astrid absurdity. As he is bidding her goodbye, he says, "Astrid Peth, citizen of Sto, the woman who looked at the stars and dreamt of travelling, there's an old tradition..." followed by that really awkward ghost kiss. Come to think of it, it's not really the Doctor/Astrid element that makes us cringe, it's the simple weirdness of it. Plus, can he really feel her? Can she feel him? She still thinks she's falling - what must she believe is going on now, as the Doctor kisses the air that some, perhaps, ectoplasm of Astrid's non-corporeal form occupies? Does he seriously need to give her a kiss goodbye? Although, we suppose that the Titanic setting makes it rather a propos that he's suddenly heartbroken over someone he's known for a day...
But mostly it's just awkward, as mentioned above. It looks terrible. It looks like David Tennant kissing air, which is exactly what it is. Could've done without it, thanks.
Golden Moment: When the Doctor is desperately, desperately, machine-gunning in a language that no-one can understand, sonicking the hell out of the teleport, trying to find a way to use the bracelet system to save Astrid, it is fairly clear to everyone in the room that it's not going to work. Even Rickston is shaking his head sadly, and thus far, the man has shown no demonstrable concern for anyone other than himself.
It takes Mr. Copper to convince him. "Doctor, let her go," he says, in a fatherly sort of way.
To this, the Doctor responds by kicking the machine in anger, and screaming, "I can do anything!" protesting against this state of affairs that means that Astrid dies, and displaying a swift and blinding temper that we do not often see. We have seen this level of fear in him before (see 42 for details) but never this level of frustration. It is another reminder of who the Doctor is: a man who can solve just about any problem using brains and technology... except death. Death follows the Doctor, and as Davros will point out at the end of this year, it's almost exquisite to see. It's a fatal beauty that the Doctor possesses; people give their lives for him, and they do it gladly.
Every now and then, of course, we crave a reminder of who and/or what our hero is. It bears restating on a regular basis, but it doesn't always have to be "in so many words" as was Martha's monologue in the previous story, or even grandiose like Tim Lattimer's mini-soliloquy in "The Family of Blood." Sometimes, it's the anomalous actions of the hero himself that serve as reminders of what we have come to expect from him.
Added to this Golden Moment is Mr. Copper's musing to the Doctor, "If you could choose, if you could decide who lives and who dies, that would make you a monster." He is, of course, absolutely correct. It's all the more poignant when you realize that the Doctor does sometimes decide who lives and who dies (consider the not-as-yet fully explained digital resurrection of River Song, and the events of The Day of the Doctor). So, is he a monster?
Why I Beg To Differ: The magazine chose the moment in which the Doctor introduces himself, and announces his species, planet and constellation of origin, age and objective to the peanut gallery with a shocking amount of authority. Then he follows it up with "Have you got a problem with that?" It was difficult to discern their full reasons for choosing this moment, other than, it's a bunch of bluster that means, ultimately, nothing. But boy, does David Tennant sell it.
Sure he does, but our ideals are loftier. Far from being a big show of bravado from a handsome guy in a tux, his display of anger at not being able to play god reveals so much more. It's not his name or age or background, it's something in his guts, or in his hearts, that cannot be said with words - only with actions and circumstances. It's more information about the Doctor than we get from his literally telling us who he is!
Before long, the Captain has sabotaged the airshields (for money) and the ship is struck by a violent meteor shower, which kills numerous passengers and puts the ship's engines in danger. This is bad news, because once the engines go, the ship loses orbit and crashes into the Earth, and the engine is a Nuclear Storm Drive, which would wipe out life on the Doctor's second-favourite planet.
Dodging "The Host," some information robot angels with a vendetta, the Doctor and Astrid join a band of rag-tag survivors, and they attempt to make their way through the broken ship toward something called Deck 31. There, they hope to find a hub for the Host, and some answers. When he arrives, the Doctor finds Max Capricorn, CEO of the company that owns the ship, now a cyborg, stowed away. The Doctor works out Capricorn's business plan wherein he crashes the ship into the Earth and walks away with heaps of cash. Astrid, who had only recently agreed to travel with the Doctor, turns up with a forklift and drives the Capricorn cyborg, and herself, into the storm drive.
As the ship dives into the Earth, the Doctor literally leans back on the throttle with all his strength to avert the crash. Afterwards, the Doctor attempts to resurrect Astrid via a teleport bracelet she had been wearing when she fell, but he is unsuccessful, and instead, he releases her consciousness into the cosmos.
Golden Comic Moment: "I shall be taking you to old Londontown in the country of UK, ruled over by Good King Wenceslas. Now, human beings worship the great god Santa, a creature with fearsome claws, and his wife Mary." Poor old Mr. Copper, with his "Earthonomics" degree from a dry cleaner, has no flipping idea what he's talking about. It's quite entertaining to hear his misinformation, his jumble of history/mythology soup. It's rather tempting to wonder if Russell T. Davies was making a point with this, showing how mixed-up all of our traditions and beliefs have become. Enjoy Christmas! Who cares if it's Santa or Mary? The truth lies somewhere in-between anyhow!
But while it makes us smile to hear Mr. Copper's nuttiness, the real laugh comes with the Doctor's initial reaction to him. The left eyebrow very slowly makes its way upward, and absolutely nothing else about his face moves. He is, of course, well-informed on the human race and Christmas, and is baffled by Mr. Copper, but still too nice to say anything.
Honorable mention must go to, "Allons-y, Alonzo!" We know it's dumb, but that's why it's fun.
Golden Fangirl Moment: Sigh. Ten in a tux.
Sorry, we know this has been cited as a Golden Fangirl element before, but it just cannot be denied: there is something about that man in that tux. Perhaps its the incongruous shoes. Yeah, we're used to the suit and the Converse, but perhaps the Converse with a tuxedo hints at just that much more audacity. Perhaps it's that somehow, the self-assured swagger grows more pronounced, sexier and also carries more weight in a crisis. Perhaps it's the James Bond connection that Martha mentioned, the suggestion that a man-of-action cannot be boxed into formalwear without getting well and truly mussed... or mussing someone else. Perhaps it's simply the nod to beauty, romance, the idea that the Doctor might get dressed up, attend a party, and dance with a pretty girl!
And if we can't put our finger on what it is about the tux, then we certainly can't put our finger on what it is about the undone bowtie. Just... shiver.
Cringeworthy Moment: Well, you might be sick of hearing about it by now, but it needs to be said: Martha. All of this takes place (minus the Children in Need Special with Peter Davison) about five seconds after Martha leaves. He is awfully quick to jump on the bandwagon with the next pretty blonde in a short skirt, isn't he? Where's the period of brooding? Where's the acknowledgement of feeling at least somewhat raw over having lost someone who just saved the bloody world? Like, yesterday? Sigh.
Aaaaanyway, as you may have guessed, the Cringeworthy Moment is a bit of Doctor/Astrid absurdity. As he is bidding her goodbye, he says, "Astrid Peth, citizen of Sto, the woman who looked at the stars and dreamt of travelling, there's an old tradition..." followed by that really awkward ghost kiss. Come to think of it, it's not really the Doctor/Astrid element that makes us cringe, it's the simple weirdness of it. Plus, can he really feel her? Can she feel him? She still thinks she's falling - what must she believe is going on now, as the Doctor kisses the air that some, perhaps, ectoplasm of Astrid's non-corporeal form occupies? Does he seriously need to give her a kiss goodbye? Although, we suppose that the Titanic setting makes it rather a propos that he's suddenly heartbroken over someone he's known for a day...
But mostly it's just awkward, as mentioned above. It looks terrible. It looks like David Tennant kissing air, which is exactly what it is. Could've done without it, thanks.
Golden Moment: When the Doctor is desperately, desperately, machine-gunning in a language that no-one can understand, sonicking the hell out of the teleport, trying to find a way to use the bracelet system to save Astrid, it is fairly clear to everyone in the room that it's not going to work. Even Rickston is shaking his head sadly, and thus far, the man has shown no demonstrable concern for anyone other than himself.
It takes Mr. Copper to convince him. "Doctor, let her go," he says, in a fatherly sort of way.
To this, the Doctor responds by kicking the machine in anger, and screaming, "I can do anything!" protesting against this state of affairs that means that Astrid dies, and displaying a swift and blinding temper that we do not often see. We have seen this level of fear in him before (see 42 for details) but never this level of frustration. It is another reminder of who the Doctor is: a man who can solve just about any problem using brains and technology... except death. Death follows the Doctor, and as Davros will point out at the end of this year, it's almost exquisite to see. It's a fatal beauty that the Doctor possesses; people give their lives for him, and they do it gladly.
Every now and then, of course, we crave a reminder of who and/or what our hero is. It bears restating on a regular basis, but it doesn't always have to be "in so many words" as was Martha's monologue in the previous story, or even grandiose like Tim Lattimer's mini-soliloquy in "The Family of Blood." Sometimes, it's the anomalous actions of the hero himself that serve as reminders of what we have come to expect from him.
Added to this Golden Moment is Mr. Copper's musing to the Doctor, "If you could choose, if you could decide who lives and who dies, that would make you a monster." He is, of course, absolutely correct. It's all the more poignant when you realize that the Doctor does sometimes decide who lives and who dies (consider the not-as-yet fully explained digital resurrection of River Song, and the events of The Day of the Doctor). So, is he a monster?
Why I Beg To Differ: The magazine chose the moment in which the Doctor introduces himself, and announces his species, planet and constellation of origin, age and objective to the peanut gallery with a shocking amount of authority. Then he follows it up with "Have you got a problem with that?" It was difficult to discern their full reasons for choosing this moment, other than, it's a bunch of bluster that means, ultimately, nothing. But boy, does David Tennant sell it.
Sure he does, but our ideals are loftier. Far from being a big show of bravado from a handsome guy in a tux, his display of anger at not being able to play god reveals so much more. It's not his name or age or background, it's something in his guts, or in his hearts, that cannot be said with words - only with actions and circumstances. It's more information about the Doctor than we get from his literally telling us who he is!