Unearthing Dinosaurs on a Spaceship
Guest contributor Anna Rinaldi revisits Chris Chibnall’s 2012 Doctor Who excursion.
An earth-shattering realisation has gripped DWTV frequenters for the past few days, like a comet penetrating the planet’s surface in a billow of dust and a dinosaur-obliterating seismic boom. Yes, Doctor Who’s esteemed Moffat is bidding farewell to the timey-wimey and the wibbly-wobbly, transferring his position of executive writer to… Chris Chibnall???
Initially, I perceived this to be one of the Mirror’s touted rumours, yet another controversial fib(nall). No amount of time travel could have foreseen this. The man who wrote a tense base-under-siege story spanning exactly 42 minutes, who resurrected the Silurians, and who reimagined the cat-loving caretaker of Hogwarts as a ruthless mercenary is our successor? Although I do recall enjoying 42 and The Power of Three, Chibnall’s work to date has been sparse and little more than mediocre. Passing judgment two years in advance is a bit premature, so I’m going to restrain myself and give the man a chance. I can only conclude this to be a tortuous preview of parenting, a very distant and not at all certain prospect for me, but a reality nonetheless crashing from above at an incredible velocity. Doctor Who, my 52-year-old child, is growing up.
When considering the modest handful of Chibnall’s contributions, Dinosaurs on a Spaceship strikes me as the least appealing — a typical romp interlaced with a cardboard villain and an eclectic gang of underdeveloped historical figures. Out of curiosity, however, I decided to dust off my outdated recollection of the episode. And instead of a scaly menace to contend with, I uncovered a refreshingly entertaining watch.
Of particular note is Chibnall’s dexterous hand in juggling the insane possibilities available to a show like Doctor Who. The sheer diversity of the episode is enough to impress. A quirky mixture of exotic creatures, shoreline engine rooms, and voice-activated teleports populate the affair. We might as well toss in Queen Nefertiti and John Riddell, just for the hell of it. It truly is a quintessential Doctor Who premise. If newcomers seek an accurate glimpse of your favourite show, just refer them to this episode.
Beyond its picturesque venue and wild plot, we arrive at the Ponds and the Doctor — the old familiars, this time, accompanied by a new face. Brian Williams unexpectedly tags along, and his likable, innocent presence adds another dimension to the story. Moffat’s era could at times lack personality without the amusing shenanigans of family life, something quite prominent throughout RTD’s tenure. Like Wilfred, Brian conveys a warm and endearing persona, bickering with Rory out of parental concern, but ultimately supporting the moral and intellectual growth that traveling with the Doctor imbues.
While frantically evading earth’s Mesozoic monstrosities, Brian comes to terms with his son’s secret life. The archetypal nurse and middle-aged father are tangled in a tight situation full of spaceships, missiles, and half-wit robots, using their everyday skills to trump a few pterodactyls and skirt their very own destruction. Channeling his ‘awesome nursing-skills’ Rory chidingly heals a burn Brian receives, and then delivers an admirable, vindictive speech, threatening to melt the robots that attacked his father. With these few scenes, I gradually became invested in the Williams’ relationship, regardless of whether it was shoehorned into the series at the last minute.
And then there’s Amy, who is as feisty and resourceful as ever. After knocking about in the TARDIS for ten turbulent years, she has certainly acquired a knack for sleuthing and techno-fiddling. Her maturity and insight really shines in every conversation with the Doctor, yet each exchange drips with portentous looks and wistful smiles. Amy almost assumes a Clara-like role, as she emulates the Doctor in her clever resolutions and quick thinking, even going so far as to call Nefertiti and Riddell her companions. Her Scottish retorts at Riddell’s sexism account for some hilarious scenes, yet the duo can certainly take on a pack of vociferous raptors when needed.
Our villain, the unscrupulous Solomon, lurks in the shadows until the second act. No offence to David Bradley, but I consider foes motivated by profit to be as flat as the bills they so avariciously seek. Flanked by clunky comic relief bots, Solomon feels as threatening as a sour, old gramps. He then elaborates on his peaked interest in valuable cargo and details his genocide of the Silurians. Conversations spelling out the antagonist’s plan always seem ridiculously illogical and end up becoming tedious exposition, especially when the speaker rasps everything through layers of whiskers. What I did find intriguing was its (most likely unintentional) relevance to the impossible girl plot thread: people are neither price-labeled objects nor enticing puzzles. They are sentient beings, animated by love and loss, ambitions and fears.
Dinosaurs on a Spaceship has its faults but undoubtedly holds the potential to be a fun-filled, triceratops-backed ride. The characterisations are rendered wonderfully, and the episode contains some genuine, laugh-out-loud moments. As the Doctor won’t be in for quite some time, I’ll take the liberty of prescribing a few perfectly decent excursions penned by Mr. Chibnall. Consider it a small-scale archaeological expedition. Who knows? You may dig up some brilliant finds and few pleasant surprises.
