Archive for the ‘Matt Smith’ Category
I’m pressed for time today, but here are a few quick thoughts on last night’s Doctor Who episode, “The Doctor’s Wife”, written by the wonderful Neil Gaiman:
- Idris, I think her name was? LOVED everything about her! her verbal mannerisms, a little mad, a little doctor-y, and right when she first meets The Doctor, she’s talking all funny and fast, sounding a little like when the Doctor regenerates and has to get used to his new body. Even her name sounds a little like the name of the big blue box. You think you stole a doctor and ran away? adorable! brilliant!
- Anyone else think she looked just like Helena Bonham Carter? And damn am I thankful that she wasn’t dressed in Tardis Blue.
- Do you think River would be jealous of Idris or do you think they would get along? They both know the Doctor’s real name (or at least I assume Idris does), yet The Doctor calls Idris sexy, and just calls River sweetheart. Speaking of River, what was it that Idris said? The only water in the forest is in the river? or something like that? And then the poor woman was just so thirsty at the end, desperate for water. interesting. . .
- The voice of The House (brillaint freaky scary character, btw), is it just me, or did he sound just like the Cat from Coraline?
- Idris and the Doctor flying through space and time in a half-assed, barely put together, nearly walless, partially floorless, roofless and doorless TARDIS? the freakingest awesomest thing EVAR! (at least this season).
- End of the episode was a bit of a dues ex machine cop-out. Neil Gaiman I love you to pieces, but sometimes your endings are less than awesome.
And lastly, number 10, I miss you so much. number 11, you’ve got the wacky, you’ve got the adventurous, you’ve got the “I’m the madman with the box” down. But you’re missing what made this show for me: the tragedy. the dark. the rage. Number 10, you knew the universe burned so bright as to be blinding, and yet you never stopped staring at it with eyes wide open. And you knew that brilliance was only possible because between the stars lied the darkness, where your regrets and your sorrow and your family called to you from the depths of your memories, of who you are, and what you chose to do. That darkness and regret and tragedy and rage that you carry with you Number 10, that is what drew me into this show. And I miss you. I miss you like the bluest daytime sky misses the star light, like the desert cries for the rain, like the dark side of a lonesome planet misses the warmth of the sun. Matt Smith, I find you a fine actor, but sir, you are not my Doctor.