I think I’m going to like the Twelfth Doctor. Possibly quite a lot. And he has the advantage of being almost the same age as me. I really liked Matt in the role but, let’s face it, he was a little boy and sometimes I like to watch a man.
I can’t do clever analysis and annoyingly I can’t remember most of the moments that I enjoyed at the time, but I do remember a couple of digs about the Scottish referendum, and taking a poke at religion - “I’m going to paradise / there’s no such thing”. (And if that woman at the end is supposed to represent the 72 virgins the guy was robbed!)
More round things in the control room, definitely. The kids couldn’t understand why I started laughing at that point.
Hmm, couples’ power dynamics: “So why am I still pouring the tea then, even though we’re in private?” I could quite fancy Jenny myself when she was doing the artistic posing bit; quite astonishing how much more gorgeous she looked than usual.
And the most poignant words from the Doctor:
“I’m not your boyfriend.”
“I never thought you were.”
“I never said it was your mistake.”
But even with that I still don’t like Moffat’s writing overall. How is it that the man who wrote Blink and The Empty Child / The Doctor Dances can turn out seemingly endless reams of overly-plotty emotionless turgidity? Rusty used to say he rewrote everyone except Moffat, but if that was true then he must have given him very strict instructions on the emotional tone of the episodes. Nowadays we get the occasional telling line but most of the time I really struggle to feel emotionally invested even when I’m quite enjoying the episode.
And on a completely unrelated note, but sticking with emotional investment, I’ve just been rewatching us - the crowd - singing to Bohemian Rhapsody just before Green Day came on stage at the Emirates Stadium (London) last June, and oh wow it brought it all back. Before the gig I’d been reading the forums about previous concerts on the tour so I knew they would play BR as the last song just before they came on, and I can still feel the thrill of excitement when I heard the first notes and the entire crowd surged to their feet. (Except my OH, who I’d forgotten to warn - he was like this isn’t even Green Day yet, why’s everybody standing up - but he soon cottoned on.) Singing along to Bohemian Rhapsody was in a strange way even more satisfying than singing along to Green Day afterwards. Because there was no band on the stage to watch, just the track being played, our attention was on us, and our singing, and we were all concentrating on doing the best and loudest job we could rather than focussing outwards. It was a great feeling.
Anyway, I promised myself an early night tonight as I seem to have a bit of a temperature, so as it’s suddenly become tomorrow morning I’m going to stop there.