2nd Opinion: Heaven Sent
David Selby and Connor Johnston give their verdicts on the 11th episode of Series 9.
David’s Verdict
I’ve often been cross at the BBC. There was the axing of Doctor Who Confidential (which I begrudgingly accepted in the end as probably being the right decision), the decision to move BBC Three to an online service (which, considering the quality of my broadband, fills me with dread), and a few points which reached the news which I’ll leave out of this because they’re completely irrelevant. But I’ve always let these slide, because at the end of the day, the BBC produces fantastic television.
There is, however, one thing I cannot forgive, and that is the BBC’s marketing department. There were plenty of marketing opportunities in Series Nine, yet in every instance so far the BBC has swallowed all of these and still demanded more. Take, for instance, The Magician’s Apprentice: they were able to advertise the return of a mysterious character, Missy, and even UNIT. They could even have promoted the Daleks. Yet they decided to reveal the return to Skaro on top of this; a point which would barely have impacted the viewing figures, but did have a considerable impact on the scene when it arrived, which the script obviously intended to be a shock. But that’s fine. Doctor Who is incredible television. That’s something I’ll let slide.
This week, however, was the final straw. The officially-released BBC synopsis for Heaven Sent revealed that, at the end of the Doctor’s journey through his own personal hell, was Gallifrey. I was surprised, therefore, to see that this wasn’t referenced until the Doctor actually arrived on Gallifrey, and had it not been spoiled, the chances are that I wouldn’t have guessed it until that enchanting This Time There’s Three of Us variation started playing (which is the old Star Wars trick where the music nerds guess what happens before everyone else).
That said, Gallifrey’s arrival still had a terrific impact. But I cannot help but feel that all the successes of this series have been in spite of the promotional material, not because of it. Several times the BBC has come close to spoiling its own series, and to spoiling the work of people like Steven Moffat, Rachael Talalay, and Peter Capaldi, who have been turning in their finest work ever.
Speaking of which, Heaven Sent almost felt bizarrely business-as-usual, but this was a good thing: Moffat, Talalay, and Capaldi were so assured with their work on this episode that there was no sense that they were out of their comfort zone, or struggling to handle challenging material – yet it’s also clear that all three are being used to their fullest: Moffat writing essentially a fifty-five minute monologue, Capaldi delivering it, and Talalay getting to work with one of the best location shoots in Doctor Who history (Caerphilly Castle, incidentally, which is probably why I recognised half of the rooms. Either that, or one of the skulls wasn’t the Doctor’s).
It’s easy to miss some of the deft touches to the way Heaven Sent was plotted – for instance, where in the wider narrative it took place. The Doctor had already been there, on a loop for seven-thousand years, so the revelation, when it came, held weight: it was long enough for significant social and geographic change across the universe; far further in the future than we, with our decades-long lifespans, tend to contemplate, but not ridiculous. This gave the eventual two-billion year exposition further significance, evocative of both Doctor Who stories from around the same period (for instance, The End of the World), and the Aesop’s fable used in the narrative loop.
Similarly to The End of Time, another one of my favourite episodes (also Gallifrey-centric), Heaven Sent had a Shakespearean gravitas which, I felt, added a lot to its atmosphere. Moffat went out of his way to write in the traditional Shakespearean iconography of the castle and the skull, and work in literary elements such as soliloquy, as well as motifs of death, poetry and eternity. Moffat then used this scale to invite more unconventional audience reactions. A typical writer would have made the Doctor’s grieving the crux of the episode, but Moffat chose to make the emotional high-point the Doctor punching a wall for two billion years. But due to its bold and confident execution, there was no questioning the fact that it was ten times more moving than any of the usual weekday-night detectives wittering on about their personal losses.
Overall, Heaven Sent was experimental, but still firmly rooted in the Doctor Who tradition and definitely not lost in its execution. It was sure-footed but daring at the same time, again pushing the limits of what Doctor Who is capable of doing, but suggesting that it should have been doing this sort of story since the start. Now please, Moffat. Finish this series as well as you’ve started it.
Connor’s Verdict
We’re home.
The expression of “Heaven Sent” is what touches you first. Growing from its script outwards it’s the eloquence of the story that initially impresses and contributes to the gripping nature of the episode. I’ve often reflected how much I admire how articulate Steven Moffat is at writing dialogue for his characters, and this fluency luckily isn’t lost – but instead enhanced in writing for only one character. The script for this week didn’t just feature memorable phrases and lines of dialogue… it was constructed solely by them. With “Heaven Sent,” Steven produces a piece of work that would be far more accurately labelled as poetry. Each line is invaluable and has proper significance to the magnum opus he creates. There may have been moments during the last 6 years where people have found themselves disagreeing with or criticising the choices Moffat has made with his scripts – which of course is totally within reason and our rights as viewers. However I honestly would have trouble believing that someone could bear witness to the confidence and creativity of “Heaven Sent” (regardless of whether or not they enjoyed it or not) and doubt his artistic ability as a creator.
Throughout the complex upheaval of the Doctor’s travels, it’s rewarding to note how the core belief in which the Doctor lived by is never forgotten. “Never cruel nor cowardly, never give up, never give in.” For the Doctor, “Heaven Sent” marks perhaps the most substantial character defining piece in the 52 years we’ve watched him travel. There are few times in the show’s history where we’ve been presented with such raw and concentrated access to the Doctor’s mind – and certainly not to such a great extent. The Doctor never entertains the smugness that he is invincible, instead he is driven by an unwavering belief that there is always a way to overcome turbulence. Each victory is earned, but he never falls into the trap of becoming complacent and congratulating himself – which keeps the adrenaline and stakes high for the entirety of the episode. Peter Capaldi effortlessly captures the essence of the character in such a profound way throughout the entire sequence of events. I honestly believe that given the array of talent and personalities that have taken up the leading role in the show’s history, there can never truly be a superlative Doctor. That being said, Capaldi’s performance this series and specifically in Heaven Sent is certainly challenging the faith I have in my own beliefs.
Rachel Talalay and Murray Gold rank alongside both Capaldi and Moffat as two of the most remarkable personalities to have ever contributed to the creation of the show. Their worth is stressed repeatedly through the framework of the episode – both their crafts coupled seamlessly to the script ensuring there’s never a vacancy in the mystery and intensity of the episode’s atmosphere. Last year Rachel Talalay cited that one of her biggest struggles in transforming the script to the screen was working with a much smaller budget – but all constraints and struggles aside, in viewing this episode it seems once again she’s achieved the impossible. The realisation of the clockwork castle is truly inspired, and one can only hope that a Talalay headed finale becomes as much of a tradition as a Moffat led one. There is only so many ways one can say “Murray Gold manages to outdo himself week after week.” I will never be able to understand how he achieves the gravitas his work creates through music alone. It’s no secret this week’s episode relied more heavily on his score then the majority of episodes in the past, and Gold rises to the challenge with ease.
Though it may seem like an episode that loses its charm once the mystery is solved – I’ve found that subsequent rewatches have only sought to improve my reception of the episode. It’s an episode crafted with so much affection for the show, and as such the amount of Easter eggs one notices in hindsight really serves to show how physically well-constructed it is. The episode is specifically designed to survive the test of time. From the writing on the wall spelling out the Doctor’s opening monologue, the skulls measuring to Capaldi’s exact dimensions, the clockwork-esque vibe to the episode’s opening score and the dialogue following the Doctor’s realisation being just a small few of the various highlights picked up only through a rewatch.
Of course, the episode culminates in a rapid succession of striking reveals towards the end of the episode – including of course the long awaited return to Gallifrey. It truly is incredibly poetic that the tenth anniversary of the show is marked with such an exciting revelation…. In 1963 the Doctor ran away from home, 50 years in 2013 later he started running towards it. In 2005 the Doctor destroyed Gallifrey, 10 years later in 2015 he brought it back. I had personally never imagined the Confession Dial would be quite as important as this. Despite the fact that it was a piece of Gallifreyan technology its true purpose remained quite a valid surprise – and like all of Steven Moffat’s best magic tricks, it’s repeatedly been hidden in plain sight. Similarly the boldness of the cliffhanger to suggest that Doctor himself is the hybrid is also a refreshingly original development – though naturally seeks further elaboration next week.
Finally, it’s been suggested that a strong flaw of the episode resides in the fact that both its format and content of the episode hinders the ability of casual or new viewers to engage and understand the episode. While there is some merit to such a claim it needs to be remembered that in any continuous drama – a casual reader is never going to be able to jump in and understand the final chapter in a novel, and the same principle applies here. Accessibility and appeal to the wider audience is important for Doctor Who, but should be focused mainly in the opening episodes of a series. The finale remains an episode that should set out with the sole purpose of rewarding fans that have stuck with a series completely for its entirety and not be impacted by the chains of publicity and broader reception.
What has happened to the magic of Doctor Who? Where is the show that captured the intrigue, imagination and excitement of its viewers upon its return 10 years ago? Where is the originality? The Risk? The Ambition? The Passion?
I confess…. It’s right here, and it’s stronger than ever.