Steven Moffat: The Good, The Bad and the Timey Wimey
Guest contributor Christopher Ritchie shares his views on Moffat’s strengths and weaknesses.
The Good
Steven Moffat has written some of Doctor Who’s most memorable and genuinely terrifying episodes. His skill lies in making the ordinary and everyday absolutely menacing and chilling – to invert our perceptions. The Empty Child / The Doctor Dances made gas mask-wearing children calling for their mummy legitimately frightening. The sound of a ticking clock now feels threatening as a result of The Girl in the Fireplace and Deep Breath – hold your breath, an anatomy harvesting clockwork droid approaches!
Viewers will never able to look at a statue in the same way again because of Blink. Similarly, we think twice about cracks in the wall (The Eleventh Hour), shadows are that much more sinister (Silence in the Library/ Forrest of the Dead), snow is evil (The Snowmen) and we are more wary of the risks of Wi-Fi (The Bells of Saint John). Moffat is a mastermind in playing on our irrational fears: there really is something under our beds (Listen) or lurking behind us – in the corner of our eye (The Eleventh Hour).
In his casting of Matt Smith and Peter Capaldi as the 11th and 12th Doctors, respectively, Moffat made intelligent choices. Both have been markedly different to their immediate predecessors – the brilliant Christopher Eccleston and exceptional David Tennant. Smith and Capaldi’s interpretations have kept the character fresh, exciting and appealing. Moffat’s The Night of the Doctor was also a triumph – the bridge between the classic and new series which reintroduced the 8th Doctor.
Throughout Series 5-8, Moffat has followed in Russell T Davies’ footsteps, delving deeper into the Doctor’s inner turmoil, particularly the protagonist’s existential crisis and the ramifications of having to choose between the lesser of two evils (The Beast Below, The Night of the Doctor, The Day of the Doctor, Into the Dalek).
The 50th anniversary special is, unquestionably, one of the all time great episodes. Exploring the Doctor’s participation in the Time War was a marvellous idea. Initially, I was disappointed that Moffat had the Doctor save Gallifrey. There was something more real and satisfying about a Doctor who has saved, and will continue to save, countless planets, but couldn’t save his own – that he is fallible and can’t always fix his mistakes. Moffat’s decision meant the Doctor became more of a Christ-like saviour – incapable of evil or doing wrong, and able to shed the connotations of ‘warrior’, ‘loner’, ‘villain’ and ‘victim’ which had come to define him. Yes, the War Doctor, ninth and tenth incarnations will still have to live with the belief that they destroyed Gallifrey rather than attempted to save it, but Moffat’s resolution still feels like it devalues Eccleston and Tennant’s interpretations of the Doctor.
That said, Moffat’s narrative redirection has certainly reinvigorated the show. The 12th Doctor has a mission – to find Gallifrey; to return home – a plot device which has considerable potential.
The Bad
On the 50th anniversary special – and not to take anything away from John Hurt’s masterful performance – Moffat wasted an opportunity in not having Paul McGann play the War Doctor. McGann is an exceptionally skilled actor, more than capable of portraying a darker side. Given his Doctor’s romantic, spirited and charming nature, the change would have been that much more dramatic.
Since Moffat became head writer and executive producer, Doctor Who can feel like, at times, purely a children’s program. On one level, like much literary and television fiction, Doctor Who is escapism and lighthearted entertainment. But the show resonates with many of us on a deeper level.
Doctor Who, like all worthwhile fiction – particularly speculative fiction – encourages us to think about contemporary society and ourselves. In this sense, Doctor Who follows in the footsteps of writers like H.G. Wells, Jules Verne, Margaret Atwood, Aldous Huxley and George Orwell. Through the Time Lord’s adventures, 20-21st century social and political issues are illuminated and amplified, making present-day problems feel apocalyptically urgent. Doctor Who forces us to examine the human condition – what makes people tick – and to reflect on and question the values that underpin our culture and society. This has been a constant attribute of the show throughout its history. It’s what makes Doctor Who so appealing to adults, and more importantly, it helps children learn about the world in which they live and contextualise, even at a subconscious level, their place within it.
On occasions, Moffat writes down to make Doctor Who only appealing to children – the fairytale element is favoured over science fiction. Some stories have trivial and unnecessarily fanciful plots – The Curse of the Black Spot, Dinosaurs on a Spaceship, The Crimson Horror, Robot of Sherwood and the abominable The Doctor, the Widow and the Wardrobe – while other episodes have contained silly ideas like fish fingers and custard (The Eleventh Hour), riding a shark (A Christmas Carol), Power Ranger Daleks (Victory of the Daleks), a Tyrannosaurs Rex in Victorian London (Deep Breath) and the appearance of Santa (Last Christmas). As the audience, we really have to force ourselves to suspend disbelief.
Sontaran Strax – purely a device for comic relief – has undermined the very sinister villains that we remember from The Sontaran Experiment. Moreover, rather than being content with telling a good story set during the end of the calendar year, Moffat’s Christmas specials throw everything festive in your face, making the episodes contrived and artificial. Moffat also makes a mistake in thinking that by having children accompany the Doctor on his travels, the show will be more attractive to a younger audience. The presence of children is effective where the characters are well-developed and support the plot (such as Elliot in The Hungry Earth/ Cold Blood and George in Night Terrors) but not when they become companions for superficial reasons (Angie and Artie in Nightmare in Silver, Courtney Woods in Kill the Moon, and the students in In the Forest of the Night). Doctor Who generally appeals to intelligent children. As Christopher Eccleston noted, children ‘will not be bullshitted’.
Quite fairly, Moffat has been criticised for his formulaic depiction of women. River Song, Amy, Clara, Liz 10, Vastra, Madame Kovarian, Kate Stewart, Tasha Lem and Journey Blue are all authoritative, feisty, self-confident and occasionally dominating. I’m not for a moment suggesting these are intrinsically bad qualities, only that Moffat’s female characters all seem to be cast from the same mould. The audience is left with the impression that females must possess these characteristics in order to stand toe-to-toe with the Doctor. Nothing could be further from the truth, as many previous companions have demonstrated.
The Timey Wimey
Moffat has been brave and ambitious in playing around with the notion of time. In some cases, however, the plots or series arcs come off as too clever for their own good – the paradoxes of The Pandorica Opens/ Big Bang, the Doctor feigning his death in Series 6, Time Heist and River Song’s story. The narrative’s can feel disjointed and not well thought-out. Moffat wants to make Doctor Who epic – he makes the mistake of thinking bigger is better. His finalés are crammed with too many ideas; he relies on multiple monsters and struggles to tie up loose ends. Consequently, the episodes feel rushed and leave much unexplained, for example, the time travelling ship (The Lodger, The Impossible Astronaut/ Day of the Moon), how Clara was rescued from the Doctor’s time stream (The Name of the Doctor) and how the Master escaped from Rassilon and regenerated into Missy (Dark Water/ Death in Heaven).
On Missy, if Moffat wanted a strong female villain, he could have made Michelle Gomez the Rani. The classic series established that there are Time Lords and Time Ladies. Yes, they can change sex as part of the regenerative process, but this is uncommon or becomes an option under special circumstances (The Night of The Doctor). The Master’s lust for life has seen him ignore the rules of regeneration, so while, in that, there is some legitimacy to the antagonist’s change of sex, it is still an exception to the norm. With Missy, Moffat has pushed Doctor Who down the slippery-dip of political correctness. For a show that has always been brave and never pandered to populist opinions, these are sad days. Moffat has established the precedent for a female Doctor. But why does the Doctor need to be female? How will that add to the character? In female form, what will the Doctor be able to do that he can’t do already? Changing the Doctor’s sex will create rifts in fandom and risks alienating Whovians. Why rock the boat?
What can be irksome about Moffat is his constant need to provide media commentary on Doctor Who – whether this be teasing fans about forthcoming episodes or being deliberately provocative to promote the show and himself. Moffat can come across as patronising and vain. When one thinks of other contemporary popular shows – Game of Thrones, The Walking Dead and Downton Abbey – showrunners have a lower profile. Importantly, they make their points through their writing. In most instances, they let the actors have the limelight.
Conclusion
Moffat has been both wonderful and woeful for Doctor Who. Whether you love or loathe him, no Whovian can deny that Moffat has had a fair crack. In a show that is constantly regenerating, even Moffat himself must recognise that times change and so must the head writer and executive producer.
