10.18: Gridlock
In which Russell investigates religion, and decides Doctor Who is probably better than God, actually.
Broadcast: April 2007
Watched: August 2021
“Everyone goes to the motorway in the end.”
Completely and utterly brilliant. Starts very well and then builds until the last act is one of the most amazing things the show has ever done.
Firstly, there’s the world building, based largely on some (now quite dated) CGI and a single, small set. Somehow, by redressing that set and filling it with people, this creates a real sense of scale, and the use of Sally Calypso’s news broadcast helps persuade us that these strange and diverse people share a world, from the first appearance, covered in the blood, of the couple from the American Gothic painting onwards. (Actually, not, because the painting is probably his daughter, not his wife, but never mind.)
Also: the design work! The weird dog woman who appears to be keeping a couple of blondes as pets! The Cassini sisters! The car spotter! The kittens! Macra! I still can’t really believe The Macra Terror got a 40th anniversary story.
Then there’s the real story, in which Martha is abducted by the world’s most hilariously apologetic kidnappers and the Doctor finally notices that he’s been acting like a prick. This is the first time the show really separates the two, and it’s a mark of what a great character Martha is that this works, even though the actress isn’t that strong (although her delivery of “about six years” “...what??” is brilliant).
I love the way this episode sort of does a vaguely Beckettian thing of scratching around the edge of meaning but never quite nailing it down. There’s clearly something here about the importance of community – communal fears, hopes, hysterias – and the fact you also sometimes need to help yourself. The prayer inspires the Doctor to action – his jump is a literal leap of faith, blah blah – that’s sort of reflected later in Milo’s decision to turn the engines back on (“There’s always the Doctor”, “Martha, no one’s coming”). With a lesser writer this would feel like thematic incoherence, but here it somehow works.
Oh, also, there’s something really pleasing in the way the last act of the Senate was to seal off the undercity to protect people there. This story is obviously now about lockdown, but the twist is “this government actually gives a f-”.
Then it turns out that there isn’t a God but there is a Doctor, and he opens the sky and everyone cries and then ascends to heaven. Then we all stand around and watch a giant cat nurse nun ugly cry over the death of a giant animatronic head, then finally the Doctor admits that he’s not lonely because he misses his girlfriend, it’s that he misses his entire species. Which makes it the moment the 10th Doctor stops being a pain in the arse, too.
Does it mean anything? Does it matter? The whole thing is just really, really beautiful.
Other things.
This is a key story in the evolution of that sub-genre of vaguely Futureshock-y stories that now feel like a key part of the mix but which the show never really did before 1987. Or would be, if anyone except me believed that was a thing. [Since I wrote this, others have pointed out to me that The Sun Makers (1977) and Vengeance on Varos (1985) also fit into this genre, but it does really kick off when Andrew Cartmel takes over as script editor in 1987.]
If you can’t lie to the computer, how did the couple in the intro manage to get into the fast lane? Hackers, I guess.
I love the way you see Novice Haim loading a gun and then she disappears from the narrative for 25 minutes, so you assume she’s the villain.
Ardal O’Hanlon has a recognisable enough voice that it’s obviously him even when he’s a giant cat.
Brannigan’s wife is Bill Potts’ mum.
“Imagine that, a 50 foot head!” is a hilarious line in a Face of Boe episode
A virus mutating inside a compound. RTD as strong on science as he is on politics, there.
“The Macra used to be the scourge of this galaxy!” Did they, though.