The Impossible Astronaut / Day of the Moon: A Defence & Analysis
Guest contributor Joshua Yetman thinks the Series 6 opener doesn’t get enough adoration.
Yes, I know what you’re thinking, a defence of The Impossible Astronaut / Day of the Moon? This story surely doesn’t need a defence, it’s a pretty well received story as it is; after all, it was voted the 17th best story of the revival in a poll run by this very website earlier in the year! And that’s all true, fortunately. But I’m still writing this as I feel it gets nowhere near the adoration it deserves.
In a nutshell, this is my favourite Doctor Who story of all time, with my previous favourite “Listen” being pushed narrowly into second place after my recent rewatch of this magnificent, breathtaking magnum opus of Doctor Who. But why is this story so bloomin’ good? Let’s break it down…
The setting
Let’s start with the setting, both in location and time. This was episode was gorgeous in all possible visual departments, directed brilliantly by Toby Haynes, and it’s raw cinematic feel was greater than anything we had experienced in the revival up until that time. It was a proud statements of colours, and the overseas filming elevated this story well into the realms of epic storytelling.
Playing on noir and political themes, this episode also explores one of my most fervent interests: space exploration, especially the Apollo missions, so my love of this story is considerably boosted by this fact. And as I’ve intently studied this part of history and the NASA programme of the time, the realism and attention to detail of this historical realisation is very, very impressive.
The explosive start to the series and Moffat’s sheer ambition
During the RTD era, we had become accustomed to simple, harmless opening stories that, though usually very enjoyable, played it safe, mostly because they had to introduce/reintroduce either a new Doctor, a new companion or both (so character development took priority over the plot, which is fair enough).
Fast forward to Series 6, and we don’t need to introduce a new companion or Doctor, as the TARDIS team remained the same from the previous series (a New Who first). Hence, we witnessed a distinctly ambitious opening story which kills off the main character within the first ten minutes (what other shows can do that?!), and presents it themes and plot with a cinematically epic feel (as I’ve discussed before). What an exciting change in direction this was, and it was certainly a bombastic way to kick off the series. Even if you ultimately didn’t like the direction of the arc in Series 6, you have to admit it was an incredible, shocking way to kick it all off, and you have got to give props to Moffat for being so ambitious.
And the ambition doesn’t falter throughout. It’s incredibly auspicious (I mean, how bold and grand is the line “No…it’s Neil Armstrong’s foot…”) and the elaborate plotting takes many risks, with every single of them paying off perfectly in my opinion. And this story also provides an example of Moffat’s love of throwing curve balls and taking the audience down a completely different route than they expect, which is risky as it could possibly alienate the audience (especially on first watch), but it leads to hugely satisfying retrospective viewings, and Day of the Moon’s opening sequence is a prime example of Moffat making us all go “what the actual hell is going on here?”, and then it all becomes beautifully clear in the most satisfying way!
The Silence
Oh how I adore the Silence, by far my favourite Doctor Who enemy of all time (“of all time” may be used frequently here, so sorry for that!). A fundamentally creepy enemy built on a very unnerving psychological concept, they are certainly characterisable as a “Moffat monster” that aren’t too dissimilar from The Weeping Angels in concept (i.e. both are based on visual concepts, with looking away from the monster engendering its primary ‘effect’). But I infinitely prefer the Silence for how Moffat played around with their memory proof powers, and for how repulsively nightmarish they looked. Inspired by the famous painting “The Scream”, the Silence represent some of the best monster design I think the revived era has given us. They have spine-chilling voices, and are very intimidating to behold with their bulbous heads, long hands and slimy skin. But, of course, their true fear factor lies in their conceptual nature.
Moffat explored the abilities of the Silence to incredible effect, through plot aspects and also through some fantastic visual imagery. Marking your skin and the voice recorder were ingenious little plot elements which contributed significantly to the overall scare factor of “Day of the Moon” and would go on to be a defining aspect of the Silence as a monster. The Silence were utilised by Moffat in a very, very clever way, and the concept of having a monster you can’t remember, occupying the planet from the Stone Age and shaping its very course was genius in my opinion, and also terrifying as an idea! If Moffat can make you fear even the simple aspects of human life, i.e., in this context, deja vu, forgetfulness, etc, then he has accomplished his goal of traumatising a generation.
The resolution
And ultimately, the greatest ability of the Silence would prove to be their downfall. What can I say about the resolution to “Day of the Moon” other than it made scream out loud on first viewing, simply for how auspiciously intelligent it is. This is how resolutions should be done, with the Doctor using his wit and intelligence to outsmart a foe. Doctor Who sometimes has a problem with its resolutions, but this can lay credible claim to being the cleverest resolution of them all, using the very power of the Silence against them.
A common complaint that arises from this resolution is how merciless and violent it shows the Doctor being, effectively ordering a genocide. Yes, he ordered it, but the whole action was ultimately a threat to the Silence to “run as fast as you can”, and, even though many Silents were inevitably going to be killed, it is important to remember the Eleventh Doctor has a more idiosyncratic version of morality than most Doctors. Eleven was always characterised as being remarkably protective about his companions and the people he loves, as he shouted so openly at Colonel Runaway later in the series. Eleven was liable to do something much more ethically contentious in most situations where the people he loved were in danger, and this is no exception.
Mixture of genre and themes, and the multifaceted exploration of memory
Moffat’s ability to juxtapose contrasting themes is yet another one of his most remarkable abilities as a writer, and this story is no different in that respect. With a pitch perfect balance of superb visual humour (the invisible TARDIS scene is just classic), dialogue-based humour (basically all of the dialogue shared between River and the Doctor), noirish themes (mostly from Canton), terrifying and disturbing imagery (Greystark Halls), epic imagery (all the landscape shots, and that aforementioned resolution scene) and moments of consummate poignancy.
The nature of memory was another prominent theme, for obvious reasons and some not-so-obvious ones. Obviously, memories were explored to great detail via the effects of the Silence, but there was another connotation of memory loss later in the episode when River described what it was like to be in a relationship with the Doctor, about how every time they met “I know him more, he knows me less”.
Although this was a little poetic as the timeline was more arbitrary than strictly in reverse orders, it’s painfully reminiscent of what older couples in real life have to go through if one of them suffers from Alzheimer’s or another form of dementia.
“The day’s coming when I’ll look into that man’s eyes—my Doctor—and he won’t have the faintest idea who I am. And I think it’s going to kill me.”
I remember watching this with my grandmother on my very first watch, and I recall her welling up considerably during this scene, for she too had a husband who was remembering less and less of her as he got older, thus making it heartbreakingly relatable . The sheer profoundness of this scene is one that resonates to this day, and is one of many reasons why I love the Doctor and River’s relationship, for the tragedy that forms its core.
So, ultimately, the story’s presentation of memory loss is indeed very multi-faceted, and ranges from disturbing (via the Silence) to tragic (via River). But, considering all the themes overall, everything is balanced together to create a sumptuous palette of interlocking themes, all complementing each other relative to the plot, and pulling the story together into a true, all round classic.
And finally, to the best element of this story… its characters and characterisation
Oh, the characterisation that we witnessed in this story. It was simply beautiful. At this stage, all four main lead actors were at the top of their acting game, and so the character development Moffat wrote into this story was magnified even further by the quality of the portrayals, but the characterisation itself needs to be discussed.
In this story Moffat hit a peak of characterisation he would not hit again until Series 8, in my opinion. Each and every one of the 6 relationships between the main 4 leads was focused on by Moffat to incredible, beautiful effect, and I think, out of everyone, River shone the most, especially in “The Impossible Astronaut” in the aforementioned scene when she explained her tragic love story with the Doctor (which also reminded me of aspects of the film “The Time Traveller’s Wife”) to Rory. This is probably my favourite story with River, when she was at her absolute best. I don’t think her character decayed over time like many fans do, but this was still a noticeable peak, when she was at her most enjoyable.
Amy shone as well. The death of the Doctor visibly tormented her, and her sheer amount of love and care she expressed towards her beloved “Raggedy man” really pushed up my opinion of Amy, even if she only occasionally showed such love and care towards Rory (I still love their relationship though). It was almost heartbreaking to see what she would do to try and save the Doctor.
Speaking of that, yes, it was perhaps a bit repetitive to once again explore the ‘love’ triangle between the Doctor, Amy and Rory, but I thought it was rather endearing here, especially the whole resolution to the “stupid face” subplot. It was resolute and powerful, in a way, given the way Rory looked at her during the fight between the Silents and the Doctor and River. A look of sheer shock, and then adoration.
And then there’s the brilliant Canton. Oh, the witty, noirish Canton. Why you haven’t returned in any capacity since this double-parter is beyond me. You were funny, you are a great example of superb LGBT representation in the show, and – frankly – you’re a bit of a smooth badass! Please return some day Canton; we need more justification as to why you’re the fourth most trusted person of the Doctor, and – well – you’re a really awesome character!
Conclusion
There are so many more things I could talk about, like the incredibly, mind-numbing cliffhanger to Day of the Moon, the rather unbiased portrayal of Nixon, and so many other factors, but I think I’ve said enough!
But, that’s ultimately my not-actually-needed-but-I’m-still-writing-it defence of this story. It is, in my opinion, the best Doctor Who story ever, for its sheer ambition, it’s wonderful characterisation, monsters, dialogue, genres and themes, and so much else. In a word, this story is probably the most exciting piece of drama I’ve ever witnessed (followed by the most exciting series I’ve ever watched until Series 8), and I am saddened by the fact it is often, rather ironically, forgotten amidst the usual dislike for Series 6 and its arc.
Thank you for reading.
