4.2: The Fires of Pompeii
Synopsis: The Doctor, more or less showing off for Donna, accidentally lands them smack in Pompeii on the eve of Vesuvius' eruption. As a Time Lord, his understanding of "fixed points" in time leads him to try and leave as quickly as possible, allowing events to take their course, whereas Donna refuses to leave unless and until she has warned the city of the coming disaster.
While they argue, the TARDIS is bought by a local marble merchant, Caecilius, who has been doing some stonework for a local soothsayer, Lucius Petrus Dextrus. Caecilius has a daughter who belongs to a coven of prophetesses, who have foretold the Doctor's arrival on this day. The soothsayer and the prophetess are genuinely powerful, however, none of the future-telling-types have any inkling of the imminent eruption.
The Doctor discovers that the psychic powers come from breathing the vapors from Vesuvius, which is inhabited by creatures from the planet Pyrovillia. Their planet is lost, and they are looking to make Earth their new domicile. In order to dispatch them, the Doctor realizes that he must detonate Vesuvius, or risk turning the Earth over to the Pyroviles. Vesuvius would never erupt but for his intervention.
Insisting that it is still a fixed point, and that events must proceed as history tells them, he attempts to leave Pompeii, just as ash begins to fill the air. In the last few moments, Donna pleads with him to save not everyone, but just someone. He opts to deliver Caecilius' family to the hills above, thus sparing their lives.
Golden Comic Moment: Well, it's not a particularly funny episode; in any case, it's not known for its jokes (except for the Latin/Celtic ones). It does have a lot to say about the nature of tragedy and history (namely, perhaps sometimes mass-tragedy is a necessary evil... look at the Black Plague! Some say that without it, the Renaissance would not have been possible, but I digress.) It also has something to say about religion. We're not sure if that was the intent, but if you look closely, you'll see adherents to a widely-accepted cult, following blindly a faith and practice that is literally turning them to stone. And, not-so-subtly, the Doctor comes out and tells the Sybiline Sisters that the Sybil would be ashamed of them for how they've perverted her message. In real life, many of us feel that way about some modern followers of ancient prophets. (Gandhi once said, "I like your Christ. I do not like your Christians." But again, I digress.)
But before we get to that, the episode proves once again that universal truth that all Doctor Who fans know: when you give David Tennant any sort of monologue to chew on, interesting things start to happen. Sometimes brilliant things, and sometimes just this: "Do you know, I met the Sibyl once, yeah, hell of a woman. Blimey, she could dance the Tarantella! Nice teeth. Truth be told, I think she had a bit of a thing for me. I said it would never last, she said, 'I know'. Well, she would."
As I have said before, committing it to words doesn't really do it justice. It is not only quite funny, but is actually a textbook example of how the Tenth Doctor speaks, and what makes his interaction with language totally unique. The fact is, the Doctor uses the monologue to disarm the Sybilines, or at least to surprise the crap out of them, rendering them (at least temporarily) speechless. And it's not just his words that do the trick - it's his tone and manner, his inimitable Ten-ness.
Golden Fangirl Moment: It's not a moment, it's the casting! Oh, the casting!
You saw it coming. The Fangirl in us wants to just burst with did you know that Karen Gillan and Peter-freaking-Capaldi are in this episode? And not just as, like extras! As, like, major characters!
It's hardly news, and it's hardly a novelty with just these two actors, that supporting players from an earlier episode later become Doctors and/or Companions. Freema Agyeman appearing in Army of Ghosts as Adeola Oshodi springs to mind, as does Colin Baker's appearance during the Peter Davison era, as a soldier. As a piece of Fangirl trivia, when Karen Gillan was cast, Freema was asked what she thought of the new Companion, and she said she thought Gillan was perfect because she's a great combination of "all of us:" she's Scottish like David, ginger like Catherine, has a similar "look" to Rose, and appeared in a bit part, just like Freema herself.
Since we're getting all fannish now, can we just say, we think Peter Capaldi was a brilliant casting choice for the part of Caecilius, since he's clearly a wonderful actor, as well as being possessed of distinctly Mediterranean good-looks. It's also worth mentioning that Capaldi (who, as of this writing, has been playing the Twelfth Doctor for one series) also appeared as government grunt John Frobisher in Torchwood: Children of Earth, which, of course, exists in the same universe as Doctor Who. And the Twelfth Doctor is not blind to the similarity of their looks. In fact, in his first story, he bothers to ask why he "chose" this face, in this particular regeneration, and wonders what message he is trying to send himself by doing so.
We have a theory, but we'll keep it to ourselves for now. Suffice it to say, Donna would approve.
And have you seen the Youtube mash-ups of Capaldi swearing up a storm as Malcolm Tucker on The Thick of It, juxtaposed with clips of Doctor Who? Some of it is truly priceless.
Cringeworthy Moment: After he has made the most terrible choice, and decided to sacrifice Pompeii to save the Earth (all the while, not believing that even he and Donna will survive), the Doctor is miraculously back in the home of Caecilius. As a Time Lord, he sticks to his guns, in that the eruption of Vesuvius in 79 A.D., no matter why or how it happened, is a fixed point, and must proceed as history knows it. Therefore, he cannot interfere.
We understand. And we sympathize with the Doctor in these moments, because we know he carries the burden of being the last of his kind, we know that he doesn't always approve of Time Lord ethics, but here he is, upholding them anyway, when and because no-one else can. In fact, we get a little frustrated with Donna when she takes the Doctor to task for his views, when clearly he is not happy about any of it, and what the hell does she know about the web of time and space anyhow?
But we still cringe when the building is falling down, ugly, horrible death is imminent for Caecilius and his family, they are huddled together, crying, asking for help, Donna is pleading with the Doctor to save them... and he ducks into the TARDIS and shuts the door, and starts up the engines to leave. We know he'll redeem himself in a few minutes, but boy, does he look like a coward doing that, doesn't he? We actually physically turn away from the screen when this scene arises, because it's so (if temporarily) disappointing to see from our Hero.
Golden Moment: At the cornerstone of this story lies the fact that a great, big, world-as-you-know-it-will-end disaster is coming in less than twenty-four hours, and though the town's psychics are well in-the-know about everything else, they do not see the doom and gloom. And why not? Well, why indeed. Therein lies the mystery.
But in order to create that mystery, the episode first must establish that the soothsayers are not, in fact, just "mad," as the Doctor appears initially to believe. Lucius Petrus Dextrus and Evelina are the two main psychics in the story, and only once are they in the same room together, but when they are, it is pretty Golden. And fairly creepy. The writer could have had them simply predict future events, like the assassination of JFK, or 9/11, or even the outcome of the Battle of Hastings in 1066, or Martin Luther's Reformation. It would do the job, but would be ultimately predictable. Instead, they choose to hit the Doctor and Donna right in the gut, right, literally, where they live. Across time, and across the cosmos and dimensions, as it turns out.
Evelina is able to discern the Doctor and Donna's names ("Is that your opinion as a Doctor?... You call yourself Noble.") though they are both completely out of their time, and they have told their real names to no-one thus far. When the Doctor informs Dextrus that he's been "out-soothsayed," Dextrus comes back with, "Is that so, Man from Gallifrey?" This moment gives us chills, and it surprises the pants off the Doctor. The first time we saw it, we gasped. Like a proper "Holy crap!" gasp.
"Real" psychics can, almost by definition, see things across time, especially into the future, but the Doctor is an enigma. Gallifrey itself is an enigma. Never has anyone (yet) been able to read the Doctor quite so like an open book. Once again, we must mention the power that lies in Naming. Remember when Doomfinger was forced completely into retreat in The Shakespeare Code when the Doctor knew her name? And later in this season, the Doctor will be forced similarly into compliance by a character who knows him by name. None of what is happening here should be possible, even with the most powerful oracle on Earth.
As a fun aside, in the DVD commentary, David Tennant and Catherine Tate laugh about this scene, discussing the fact that Evelina is properly psychic, but even she can't see the Doctor's real name. Tate speculates that it's probably just as well, since it's likely something embarrassing like "Keith." Tennant laughs and says the Doctor's name is "Keith Who," and no wonder he wants to keep it a secret.
Anyway, it is a chilling and brilliant way of slowly exposing part of the conflict, distracting us just enough with the visceral implications for our lead characters, so as not to have to say, "See? The psychics really know what's up... now watch what happens next!"
But to over-analyze it sort of ruins the effect. Let's just say, it's COOL!
Why I Beg To Differ: Donna's begging, "Just save someone," not necessarily everyone, is Doctor Who Magazine's Golden Moment. And as I have said numerous times before, it is difficult to argue with this. The moment, and the moments following, when the Doctor rescues Caecilius' family at Donna's behest, is a nice way of symbolizing that though they have sacrificed 20,000 people, the Time Lord isn't just a cold fish, making decisions from his Time Lord Head. Yes, it sucks to be him sometimes, but fortunately, there's a lot he can do about it.
The moment even has implications for the future. It harkens forward to The Waters of Mars when the Doctor decides that if he's going to be the only one upholding the laws of time and space, then he should get to make the laws of time and space. Ultimately, that doesn't go very well, but starting with this story, we can se the progression to that end. It also brings to mind The Day of the Doctor when Kate Lethbridge-Stewart is willing to blow up London in order to save the planet, and wonders who many times the Doctor has made that calculation. He (they) claims that it was just once, when he sacrificed Gallifrey to save the universe, but we know it's been more often than that, and we know that he has regrets. Fortunately, in Pompeii, he has a chance at redemption, and Donna helps him get there.
But it's got to be worth something that Lucius Petrus Dextrus and Evelina, in their literally infinite wisdom, scare the hell out of the Doctor, and there's a moment when you think, "Okay kids, the game has just changed!" Perhaps we thought the soothsayers were rubbish, or that they were being played somehow, by forces beyond their ken (and they sort of are), but the fact remains, that they absolutely floor our Heroes, and that makes them bloody Golden!
While they argue, the TARDIS is bought by a local marble merchant, Caecilius, who has been doing some stonework for a local soothsayer, Lucius Petrus Dextrus. Caecilius has a daughter who belongs to a coven of prophetesses, who have foretold the Doctor's arrival on this day. The soothsayer and the prophetess are genuinely powerful, however, none of the future-telling-types have any inkling of the imminent eruption.
The Doctor discovers that the psychic powers come from breathing the vapors from Vesuvius, which is inhabited by creatures from the planet Pyrovillia. Their planet is lost, and they are looking to make Earth their new domicile. In order to dispatch them, the Doctor realizes that he must detonate Vesuvius, or risk turning the Earth over to the Pyroviles. Vesuvius would never erupt but for his intervention.
Insisting that it is still a fixed point, and that events must proceed as history tells them, he attempts to leave Pompeii, just as ash begins to fill the air. In the last few moments, Donna pleads with him to save not everyone, but just someone. He opts to deliver Caecilius' family to the hills above, thus sparing their lives.
Golden Comic Moment: Well, it's not a particularly funny episode; in any case, it's not known for its jokes (except for the Latin/Celtic ones). It does have a lot to say about the nature of tragedy and history (namely, perhaps sometimes mass-tragedy is a necessary evil... look at the Black Plague! Some say that without it, the Renaissance would not have been possible, but I digress.) It also has something to say about religion. We're not sure if that was the intent, but if you look closely, you'll see adherents to a widely-accepted cult, following blindly a faith and practice that is literally turning them to stone. And, not-so-subtly, the Doctor comes out and tells the Sybiline Sisters that the Sybil would be ashamed of them for how they've perverted her message. In real life, many of us feel that way about some modern followers of ancient prophets. (Gandhi once said, "I like your Christ. I do not like your Christians." But again, I digress.)
But before we get to that, the episode proves once again that universal truth that all Doctor Who fans know: when you give David Tennant any sort of monologue to chew on, interesting things start to happen. Sometimes brilliant things, and sometimes just this: "Do you know, I met the Sibyl once, yeah, hell of a woman. Blimey, she could dance the Tarantella! Nice teeth. Truth be told, I think she had a bit of a thing for me. I said it would never last, she said, 'I know'. Well, she would."
As I have said before, committing it to words doesn't really do it justice. It is not only quite funny, but is actually a textbook example of how the Tenth Doctor speaks, and what makes his interaction with language totally unique. The fact is, the Doctor uses the monologue to disarm the Sybilines, or at least to surprise the crap out of them, rendering them (at least temporarily) speechless. And it's not just his words that do the trick - it's his tone and manner, his inimitable Ten-ness.
Golden Fangirl Moment: It's not a moment, it's the casting! Oh, the casting!
You saw it coming. The Fangirl in us wants to just burst with did you know that Karen Gillan and Peter-freaking-Capaldi are in this episode? And not just as, like extras! As, like, major characters!
It's hardly news, and it's hardly a novelty with just these two actors, that supporting players from an earlier episode later become Doctors and/or Companions. Freema Agyeman appearing in Army of Ghosts as Adeola Oshodi springs to mind, as does Colin Baker's appearance during the Peter Davison era, as a soldier. As a piece of Fangirl trivia, when Karen Gillan was cast, Freema was asked what she thought of the new Companion, and she said she thought Gillan was perfect because she's a great combination of "all of us:" she's Scottish like David, ginger like Catherine, has a similar "look" to Rose, and appeared in a bit part, just like Freema herself.
Since we're getting all fannish now, can we just say, we think Peter Capaldi was a brilliant casting choice for the part of Caecilius, since he's clearly a wonderful actor, as well as being possessed of distinctly Mediterranean good-looks. It's also worth mentioning that Capaldi (who, as of this writing, has been playing the Twelfth Doctor for one series) also appeared as government grunt John Frobisher in Torchwood: Children of Earth, which, of course, exists in the same universe as Doctor Who. And the Twelfth Doctor is not blind to the similarity of their looks. In fact, in his first story, he bothers to ask why he "chose" this face, in this particular regeneration, and wonders what message he is trying to send himself by doing so.
We have a theory, but we'll keep it to ourselves for now. Suffice it to say, Donna would approve.
And have you seen the Youtube mash-ups of Capaldi swearing up a storm as Malcolm Tucker on The Thick of It, juxtaposed with clips of Doctor Who? Some of it is truly priceless.
Cringeworthy Moment: After he has made the most terrible choice, and decided to sacrifice Pompeii to save the Earth (all the while, not believing that even he and Donna will survive), the Doctor is miraculously back in the home of Caecilius. As a Time Lord, he sticks to his guns, in that the eruption of Vesuvius in 79 A.D., no matter why or how it happened, is a fixed point, and must proceed as history knows it. Therefore, he cannot interfere.
We understand. And we sympathize with the Doctor in these moments, because we know he carries the burden of being the last of his kind, we know that he doesn't always approve of Time Lord ethics, but here he is, upholding them anyway, when and because no-one else can. In fact, we get a little frustrated with Donna when she takes the Doctor to task for his views, when clearly he is not happy about any of it, and what the hell does she know about the web of time and space anyhow?
But we still cringe when the building is falling down, ugly, horrible death is imminent for Caecilius and his family, they are huddled together, crying, asking for help, Donna is pleading with the Doctor to save them... and he ducks into the TARDIS and shuts the door, and starts up the engines to leave. We know he'll redeem himself in a few minutes, but boy, does he look like a coward doing that, doesn't he? We actually physically turn away from the screen when this scene arises, because it's so (if temporarily) disappointing to see from our Hero.
Golden Moment: At the cornerstone of this story lies the fact that a great, big, world-as-you-know-it-will-end disaster is coming in less than twenty-four hours, and though the town's psychics are well in-the-know about everything else, they do not see the doom and gloom. And why not? Well, why indeed. Therein lies the mystery.
But in order to create that mystery, the episode first must establish that the soothsayers are not, in fact, just "mad," as the Doctor appears initially to believe. Lucius Petrus Dextrus and Evelina are the two main psychics in the story, and only once are they in the same room together, but when they are, it is pretty Golden. And fairly creepy. The writer could have had them simply predict future events, like the assassination of JFK, or 9/11, or even the outcome of the Battle of Hastings in 1066, or Martin Luther's Reformation. It would do the job, but would be ultimately predictable. Instead, they choose to hit the Doctor and Donna right in the gut, right, literally, where they live. Across time, and across the cosmos and dimensions, as it turns out.
Evelina is able to discern the Doctor and Donna's names ("Is that your opinion as a Doctor?... You call yourself Noble.") though they are both completely out of their time, and they have told their real names to no-one thus far. When the Doctor informs Dextrus that he's been "out-soothsayed," Dextrus comes back with, "Is that so, Man from Gallifrey?" This moment gives us chills, and it surprises the pants off the Doctor. The first time we saw it, we gasped. Like a proper "Holy crap!" gasp.
"Real" psychics can, almost by definition, see things across time, especially into the future, but the Doctor is an enigma. Gallifrey itself is an enigma. Never has anyone (yet) been able to read the Doctor quite so like an open book. Once again, we must mention the power that lies in Naming. Remember when Doomfinger was forced completely into retreat in The Shakespeare Code when the Doctor knew her name? And later in this season, the Doctor will be forced similarly into compliance by a character who knows him by name. None of what is happening here should be possible, even with the most powerful oracle on Earth.
As a fun aside, in the DVD commentary, David Tennant and Catherine Tate laugh about this scene, discussing the fact that Evelina is properly psychic, but even she can't see the Doctor's real name. Tate speculates that it's probably just as well, since it's likely something embarrassing like "Keith." Tennant laughs and says the Doctor's name is "Keith Who," and no wonder he wants to keep it a secret.
Anyway, it is a chilling and brilliant way of slowly exposing part of the conflict, distracting us just enough with the visceral implications for our lead characters, so as not to have to say, "See? The psychics really know what's up... now watch what happens next!"
But to over-analyze it sort of ruins the effect. Let's just say, it's COOL!
Why I Beg To Differ: Donna's begging, "Just save someone," not necessarily everyone, is Doctor Who Magazine's Golden Moment. And as I have said numerous times before, it is difficult to argue with this. The moment, and the moments following, when the Doctor rescues Caecilius' family at Donna's behest, is a nice way of symbolizing that though they have sacrificed 20,000 people, the Time Lord isn't just a cold fish, making decisions from his Time Lord Head. Yes, it sucks to be him sometimes, but fortunately, there's a lot he can do about it.
The moment even has implications for the future. It harkens forward to The Waters of Mars when the Doctor decides that if he's going to be the only one upholding the laws of time and space, then he should get to make the laws of time and space. Ultimately, that doesn't go very well, but starting with this story, we can se the progression to that end. It also brings to mind The Day of the Doctor when Kate Lethbridge-Stewart is willing to blow up London in order to save the planet, and wonders who many times the Doctor has made that calculation. He (they) claims that it was just once, when he sacrificed Gallifrey to save the universe, but we know it's been more often than that, and we know that he has regrets. Fortunately, in Pompeii, he has a chance at redemption, and Donna helps him get there.
But it's got to be worth something that Lucius Petrus Dextrus and Evelina, in their literally infinite wisdom, scare the hell out of the Doctor, and there's a moment when you think, "Okay kids, the game has just changed!" Perhaps we thought the soothsayers were rubbish, or that they were being played somehow, by forces beyond their ken (and they sort of are), but the fact remains, that they absolutely floor our Heroes, and that makes them bloody Golden!