This story in a nutshell: All the world's a story...
Nutty Professor: Still adorable at this point, Matt Smith is
riding high on the success of his debut year. The awkward, geeky, desperately
cute eleventh Doctor of season five is still my favourite version of his
character (at Smith's too) before the rot began to set in (season six is
responsible for a lot of problems in this era). Whilst the gentle pace of
Vincent and the Doctor and The Lodger afforded the eleventh Doctor the chance
to enjoy some of his warmest character moments it is nice to ramp up the pace a
little and see him trapped in an impossibly dramatic situation. Much of season
five is quite quiet in terms of huge threats for the Doctor to face (the run
from Vampires of Venice to The Lodger sees the Doctor squaring up to fish
people, himself, Silurians, an alien chicken and a spaceship interface) and
this is the chance to see how he copes under the pressure of the sort of danger
that his predecessor dealt with week in, week out. Pretty damn well, as it
happens. The much celebrated speech he makes atop Stonehenge to the collective
menagerie of monsters that have shown up is a scene that celebrates how
confident this character can be in the face of impossible odds. He does it all
with a smile on his face and a song in his heart. He doesn't have any weapons,
just a great deal of front. His 'look at me I'm a target!' and two
thumbs up to Amy when they dash into danger are just gorgeous, the sort of
simple character humour that the show forgot how to pull off in Smith's final
year. There will be moments in subsequent seasons where Matt Smith will wow me
despite the some of the material he is given but there is no moment where I was
quite as thrilled by his performance as the final scene where he is locked in
the Pandorica. The Doctor is completely at the mercy of his enemies, begging
for them to listen to him as the universe falls apart. Matt Smith really goes
for it, vulnerable and desperate, and I was quite literally on the edge of my
seat.
Scots Tart: 'She's Amy and she's surrounded by Romans,
I'm not sure history can take it...' Amy walks from the TARDIS drunk on her
own confidence, tipping wink to the
Roman Army and impossibly smug in her certainty. My teeth grind at how
appallingly self satisfied she is at this point. The mistreatment of the
character in season six couldn't come quick enough. The Doctor points out that
Amy's life doesn't make sense and the whole story is built around the mystery
of how vacuous her back story is. Beyond Rory, we still don't know a great deal
about the character (beyond the fact that she is stroppy and horny a lot of the
time) but Moffat is acknowledging that that has been done for a reason. I still
don't think it is the best approach to introduce part of a character with so
many gaps - it makes it very hard to warm to them when you can't see what their
motivation is or why they behave the way they do - but at least the repair work
has begun. Come her final half season Moffat will have assembled a full
character, it's just a shame that for much of her run she should be so lacking.
Just before she is shot to death, Amy starts to behave like a human being. Go
figure.
Loyal Roman: It's the first instance of the resurrection of
Rory so the idea is still innovative at this point. You can't help but cheer at
the re-appearance of the character and how Moffat plays it up to comedic
effect, the Doctor completely failing to notice the impossibility of him being
here. I'm glad they didn't go with the Doctor's 'it just happened, let's
just except it' explanation (I think Moffat is preparing us for the magic
tricks that he will pull off without explanation in the second episode) and
there is a solid reason for him showing up by the end of the episode. The scenes
that plays out between Amy and Rory at the climax are the first time I felt the
tragedy of their relationship really clicked into place.
Sparkling Dialogue: 'Everything that ever hated you is
coming here tonight.'
'Remember every black day I ever stopped you and then do the
smart thing, let somebody else try first.'
'No, we will save the universe from you!'
The Good:
* The pre-titles sequence is startlingly ambitious insofar
as it walks through a myriad of the stories earlier in the season and
re-acquaintens us with many of the characters that we met along the way. It's a
culmination of Matt Smith's debut year, bringing together all the elements in
such a way that makes them all feel connected. Either these vignettes were
filmed during their episodes or plenty of the actors agreed to come back for
small cameos but it was a delight catch up with Van Gogh, Churchill and
Bracewell, the 'bloodah Queen' and River Song and see how they are linked
to the Pandorica. At this point Steven Moffat is riding high on the success of
his first year and revelling in all the elements that made it work. It feels as
though a whole seasons budget might have been swallowed up in five minutes too,
such is the expense that makes it on screen as we cut from one setting and one
time to another. Bravo, it's the most grand and confident set piece in his
entire run to date, all leading up to that potent image of the TARDIS exploding
in the vortex as painted by Van Gogh.
* It's worth remembering that at his height Steven Moffat is
capable of writing some very funny material and The Pandorica Opens is packed
full of some of his funniest jokes; the stick person drawing left on the wall
of River's cell, the insinuation that Jack's wrist has been cut off for his
vortex manipulator (which would tie into the idea that he is the Face of Boe),
the Doctor poking at Rory who cannot exist.
* The Pandorica is certainly given appropriate build up,
billed as the ultimate prison for the most feared creature in the universe. I
love how the story tries to trick us into thinking that there is something
inside that wants to get out when in reality it is an empty casket waiting to
be filled. I don't think anybody could have predicted quite where this story
was going. It always feels like the story is building to something impressive
with the clicking of the Pandorica's gears as it gets itself ready to open and
unleash...what?
* Cinematic influences abound with stirring footage on
horseback that reminded me of fantasy films such as Lord of the Rings
and a secret entrance beneath Stonehenge that apes Indiana Jones. The
soundtrack certainly thinks it is accompanying something more majestic than a small
screen production and the astonishingly vast sets below ground concur. When we
catch a glimpse of the Pandorica in the half light, draped in cobwebs and
adorned with symbols it is a masterpiece of design.
* It's almost a shame that Moffat pulls every trick out of
the hat for his first finale because he has nowhere to go in subsequent end of
season spectaculars. Russell T. Davies got to a point where he pulled together
all of the Doctor's friends across three series (Doctor Who, Torchwood and the
Sarah Jane Adventures) to take on the might of the Dalek Empire. The Pandorica
Opens brings together all of the Doctor's enemies to joining forces against
him. How can you possibly top that for sheer excitement? Subsequent season
finales would go to the lengths of marrying the Doctor off, introducing a new
Doctor and turning the Master into a woman for their kicks but nothing touches
the sheer dramatic strength of a union between the most evil races in the
universe. Daleks, Cybermen, Sontarans, Tereleptils, Slitheen, Chelonians,
Nestenes, Drahvins, Sycorax, Zygons, Draconians, etc. What could possibly be in
the Pandorica that all these races want? How spectacular is the light show in
the sky that represents all of these races screaming in and out of the atmosphere
of the Earth, all waiting for the right moment to pick off the Doctor. Smartly
the story makes us think that the Doctor has managed to convince the collection
of nasties to bugger off when they are just waiting for the moment to spring
their trap. The cracks in the skin of the universe are given some
consideration. All of reality being threatened is enough for the Doctor's
enemies to pool their resources and work together to defeat him because they
recognise that it is his Ship that causes the calamity.
* To my mind this is still the best use of the Cybermen in
NuWho. It works because the Cybermen are not the central threat of the story so
not a great deal is expected of them and thus Moffat is able to surprise with
some gloriously inventive and macarcbre moments as parts of a Cyberman come to
life and attack the Doctor and Amy. The standout moment of horror comes when
Amy is lashed at by the tendrils of a Cyber-head and when she grapples with the
mask it pops open and a screaming human skull is revealed inside. I have always
asked for the body horror of these creatures to be exploited and Moffat fulfils
some of that desire in these visually delicious scenes. On first transmission I
was screaming with delight. The head scuttling away to find its body and being
plonked on top to make a complete soldier might be my favourite moment of the
entire year.
The Bad:
* Whilst there are many, many things to praise in The
Pandorica Opens, it is also the point where Moffat realises that he can do
anything with the show and get away with it, almost to the point of smugness.
The first recorded words in the universe being HELLO SWEETIE scrawled on a
cliff face is the sort of self-satisfied nonsense that would pollute the next
two seasons. 'I hate good wizards in fairytales, they always turn out to be
him.'
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