2nd Opinion: Thin Ice
Connor Johnston & Gustaff Behr give their verdicts on the third episode of Series 10.
Connor’s Verdict
3 weeks ago, we were introduced to the tenth series of Doctor with The Pilot – an episode that charmed audiences from a number of different perspectives, including but not limited to its ability to choose a villain that complimented Bill’s introduction by touching on the themes of loneliness and companionship. In Smile, we saw the trope of the ‘Emoji’ used to compliment a script about communication, expression and understanding. This week in Thin Ice, Sarah Dollard became the third writer this year to continue the incredibly high standard of layered writing by offering up a historical that doesn’t just randomise its setting for trivial use, but specifically uses the landscape and culture of Regency London to justify its narrative, themes and in turn create a more rounded experience.
One of the aspects of Dollard’s script that is so impressive is how historically aware it is of itself – which, despite being a show that spends a legitimate amount of time in the past, is surprisingly rare. Though it may seem slightly superficial, taking the time to reference things as small as the currency, delicacies and the social conflicts regarding those living in poverty works wonders in asserting certain accuracy and aiding the audience to transport themselves into a foreign time. On a larger scale, the inclusion of themes such as racism and classism work to benefit the script in a more substantial way – not being merely a reference or a throwaway line of dialogue, but in many ways working as a foundation and motivation for a plot that deals with the prioritisation of human life, the detainment of an innocent creature and the abuse of all involved to stir a profit.
The entire episode is based on this idea of the seeing and appreciating value in every life – from that or a poor child’s, to that of a giant sea creature. Thematically this culminates with Capaldi’s striking speech dictating that the worth of a species is defined by how it treats others – a message that is as powerful as it is important. Every aspect of the narrative’s construction is so interconnected that it makes the episode a prime resource for both analysis and appreciation. If we were to map out the script we’d see a narrative in which the setting of Regency England informs the episode’s themes and culture of racism and slavery, which in turn informs the antagonist’s motivations and ethical conscious (or therefore lack of), which once again informs the Doctor and Bill’s outrage and eventually the episode’s resolution. Impeccably structured and logically progressed, Thin Ice is a master class in script construction.
While many have related the episode to other titles such as The Beast Below, I would contend that the episode’s resolution especially casts a thought back to the divisive (but utterly loved by this reviewer) Kill the Moon. This isn’t to accuse Thin Ice of lacking originality or individuality in terms of its narrative, but rather appreciate that both the two episodes conjure up the same conversations. Conversations that define not just the companion’s responsibilities, but also the Doctor’s in terms of his ‘right’ and ‘place’ to muddle in the affairs of the human race. Contributing again to a strong series structure, having Bill’s role defined this early in her journey as in a role in which to both learn from and challenge the Doctor regarding his methods and morality is incredibly effective.
One cannot conclude this review without making specific mention and praise of Pearl Mackie, who in only three single story episodes has made quite a remarkable impression. Thin Ice is where Mackie makes her strongest assertion so far for Bill be taken seriously as a layered character rather than a paper-thin caricature companion – when we feel her emotional and moral distress to the loss of life. It is this reaction that cements why the character of Bill works so well as a companion to the Doctor, in the way characters like Ashildr from last series never could: embodying a certain reverence for mortality that reminds the Doctor that as much as the universe needs him to move on, not one life is without value – and not one life should ever be surrendered so easily. The reverence of a mayfly, the outlook of a companion.
Gustaff’s Verdict
This season of Doctor Who has so far done an exceedingly good job of keeping me entertained. I’ve grown to appreciate the dynamic between the Doctor and Bill and while the stories themselves haven’t been very original so far, one element that has been consistent is the acting strength of Peter Capaldi and Pearl Mackie.
A personal pet peeve I have, but one which I know is compulsory for every companion is the obligatory ‘why can’t we go back and change it’ storyline to help explain to the companions, as well as any new viewers the rules of time travel.
This storyline often overlaps with, as it did in this episode, the other obligatory question of ‘why must the Doctor be so alien and have alien perspectives that are different from mine?’. Just once I would like a companion to come out and say ‘Look Doctor, I may not agree with it, but I respect that your experiences, longevity, values and morals are different from mine’. This element of the story is perhaps the only thing I dislike about it.
This episode once more treads familiar ground of recycling old ideas, The Beast Below and Kill the Moon, but this week I can forgo this similarity on the grounds of how Thin Ice approaches the concepts and how it even fixes so many of the things I disliked about Kill The Moon. The conflict between the Doctor and Bill felt more earned here than when he and Clara had this discussion. In Kill The Moon Clara was right to act the way she did regardless of what the story or the characters said. She is Clara. She is right…even if her arguments don’t make sense.
Here we have someone who has no experience with death confronting someone who has maybe too much of it. Bill finds the idea of being desensitised to death disgusting, but instead of retreading Kill the Moon territory, Sarah Dollard imbues the Doctor with a justified response: If he doesn’t, more people die.
It’s one of the character traits I admire most about the Twelfth Doctor: His brutal honesty. Claiming that not stopping to mourn death helps him prevent more of it is just the sort of response I’d expect from someone with over 2000 years worth of experience. It’s a clash of ideologies. The young and naïve versus the old and experienced, yet the story never goes out of its way to paint one of them as completely in the right or completely in the wrong. When an episode blurs the line between good and evil and makes its audience challenge their values, it’s a sign of great storytelling.
There isn’t much too say about the supporting cast this week. Much like last week, we didn’t really get to know any of them. Sutcliffe is your stereotypical villain discriminating against some aspect of a person’s existence but even with his one-dimensional character, he made for an entertaining enough moustache twirling adversary. I also genuinely child actors’ performances this week. Good strong, believable showings with none of the cheesy writing.
And despite his very limited appearance so far, I will admit that Nardole is beginning to grow on me. It really shows when the writers temporarily forget that Matt Lucas can be funny and remember he is also an actor, thus capable of drama and deep thought. There’s a certain, comedic contract in making the bumbling, fuddy-duddy Nardole into the responsible member of the TARDIS crew. Though I’m convinced that was a two-headed coin they used.
As to the mystery of what is inside the vault, I will say that so far, the series has done a decent job of slowly prodding the arc, but not in a forced manner. This week’s tease served a two-fold purpose: Showcasing a side to Nardole which may be the first stone cast in an arc that allows him to become more than just a bumbling comedic character. And secondly, what’s in the vault?
Unlike Clint, I will come out and say that I believe the knocks inside the vault are an attempt to troll fans and that it’s really Missy stuck inside there. Knocking four times and making fans squeal with John Simm delight is just the sort of thing Missy would do.
