Series 10: Extremis Review
Clint Hassell gives his verdict on the sixth episode of Doctor Who Series 10.
Note: this review contains full spoilers for episode 6 of Series 10.
The publicity for “Extremis” created expectations that were sure to be unfulfilled. The first of a three-part adventure, and written by showrunner Steven Moffat, the episode promised to reveal the contents of the guarded vault, feature the return of Missy, and explain the mystery of the sacred Veritas. How could the episode live up to the hype surrounding it? Astoundingly, “Extremis” not only delivers on its buildup, but presents what may be Steven Moffat’s most mature, nuanced script to date.
The premise for “Extremis” – – that merely reading a copy of the Veritas could cause one to commit suicide – – attempts the seemingly impossible. Without resorting to a supernatural explanation, how could such an act be justified? “Particle physicists and priests,” the Doctor ponders, “what could scare them both?” Moffat succeeds in finding an answer to the episode’s central question. What would you do if you discovered that you were not real and that your continued simulated existence benefitted a demon intent on invading the planet inhabited by the “real” you? Faced with that scenario, who wouldn’t end their own life? The terror in “Extremis” is raised to a new level as the audience is forced to identify with the victims in a way the narrative usually avoids. Further, the concept of suicide is handled tastefully, with the episode depicting realistically the psychological horror, without resorting to gore. The reveal that the scientists at CERN are participating in a mass suicide is chilling,* and their counting in unison as proof of the Veritas’ veracity is paralleled nicely with their counting down to the bombs’ exploding. This episode builds suspense, for once unnerving its adult audience even more than the kids. The stakes are certainly raised: how can even the Doctor hope to overcome an invasion that is so well-planned?
Beyond delivering on its fantastic setup, “Extremis” makes effective use of continuity. That the Daleks would keep tabs on the Doctor’s activities and whereabouts – – and that Missy would’ve heard about the Doctor being on Darillium because of her relationship with the Daleks, after “The Witch’s Familiar” – – is logical. Further, “Extremis” completes Nardole’s backstory. He was rebuilt, on Darillium, during Twelve’s time with River, only to follow the Time Lord to Missy’s execution. He stayed with the Doctor, to guard the vault, meaning that the events of “The Return of Doctor Mysterio” occur between the time of the Doctor’s flashbacks and the present day of “Extremis.”
The best example of how “Extremis” embraces continuity occurs in the final act. The simulated Doctor uses the sonic sunglasses to leave a detailed message for his “real” self, replicating the events from the epilogue of “Forest of the Dead,” where, to save River Song, the Doctor sent a message to his past incarnation. Literally lost in darkness and haunted by his memories, the blind Doctor has been contemplating River, as it was her diary – – similarly sent forward, via Nardole, as a warning to the Time Lord – – that caused Twelve to spare Missy’s life. In the past, Moffat’s scripts have ignored continuity and common sense in favor of clever plot twists, hopefully justified by an emotional payoff. Here, Moffat demonstrates a newfound maturity in his writing, twisting continuity into a knot both beautiful in its emotional resonance and its narrative complexity.
Moffat’s newfound respect for continuity has an unexpected side-effect: it justifies the existence of the sonic sunglasses. The Doctor using the sonic sunglasses to cover (in every sense of the word) his blindness is sensible. While it was obviously not Moffat’s endgame, when he introduced them, in Series 9, their use as an echolocation device is so fitting, it almost makes up for how silly they were, in previous episodes. Note that, despite having the sonic sunglasses, the Doctor still looks to Nardole for assistance – – something missing in Jamie Mathieson’s “Oxygen,” where the Doctor was at an even greater disadvantage. This earns Moffat the opportunity to place a novel spin on the well-worn “blind guy is able to evade capture, due to his ability to maneuver in the dark” trope. The editing of that scene is one of the episode’s finest, the flickering moments of darkness replicating for the audience the disorientation of the Doctor’s fleeting moments of eyesight.
Usually, Doctor Who avoids using living celebrities, limiting their involvement to timely references or brief cameos. The appearance of the Pope as a character within the narrative is handled with sensitivity. His appearance is essential to both the plot and the tone of the episode, yet his inclusion is not exploitive. The way Cardinal Angelo’s offer of sacramental confession to the Doctor dovetails with Twelve’s memories of Missy’s “execution” mines the richness of religion in a way unseen since Torchwood: Miracle Day.
Moffat shows similar reverence for Bill in a revolutionary scene that not only establishes that Bill has returned to live with her foster mother, Moira, following the events of “Knock Knock,” but also gives the audience a detailed look at Bill, the lesbian. Bill is seen on a date, excited at the prospect of getting to know Penny, who is just beginning to explore the complexities of gay dating in a heteronormative world. This scene not only keeps Bill from being “gay in name only,” since her previous encounter with Heather and the woman she “fatted,” in “The Pilot,” were little more than crushes, it also demonstrates that Bill is courageous – – just in a different way than previous companions. Was Bill willing to abandon the four still-living crew members trapped on the Chasm Forge? Yes, but that doesn’t mean that Bill isn’t strong enough to be who she is, or to inspire that courage in others. This type of development is critical to creating a realistically layered, gay companion, something Doctor Who has never had the screen time to cultivate, but was portrayed with aplomb in the second, third, and fourth series of Torchwood.
This scene is also the funniest thing Moffat has ever written, with Moira misinterpreting Bill’s date as a “terrified man,” in a conversation rife with double entendre. The Pope’s sudden appearance is hysterical, not only because he appears just as Bill assures Penny that their dating is not sinful, but because – – despite a belief in the miraculous – – His Holiness is having his own “it’s bigger on the inside!” moment . . . in Italian, no less. Following this with Bill’s terse, “You’re all going to Hell,” just after affirming Penny of the opposite, makes for an extended scene that continues to increase in hilarity.
Maybe the best thing that can be said of “Extremis” is that the script still feels like it was written by Steven Moffat. The surprise twist that most of the episode follows a simulated Doctor, Bill, and Nardole is handled masterfully, with the various Doctors from the teaser/epilogue, the flashback sequences, and the scenes set within the simulation intermingled throughout the episode, confusing the audience until the moment of revelation. True, the deaths of Nardole and Bill are obviously going to be mitigated – – and are two more examples of companion deaths holding less weight than the scriptwriter probably intends – – but there are no secondary characters whose deaths would mean as much, narratively. While not as iconic as “The Day of the Doctor” or as series-redefining as “Listen,” “Extremis” certainly stands as Moffat’s most practiced script, and is a testament as to how skilled he has become at refining his own work. It’s a shame that Moffat won’t be penning the final two parts – – the next being co-written with Peter Harness, with the final chapter scripted solely by Toby Whithouse – – though, considering how tightly written and planned Series 10 has been, thus far, it wouldn’t be surprising to see many of the themes introduced in “Extemis” reappear in Moffat’s two-part finale.
