What is the measure of Man?

Torchwood is meant to be darker and edgier than the show it spins off of, Doctor Who, and it certainly is that. But it also says things about the human condition that the good Doctor cannot illustrate. One of these is the notion of family, a team. The Doctor might have a Companion or two, but he always knows that he will lose them, either to misadventure or to an excess of adventure that burns them out and makes them long for home. The current Torchwood group, on the other hand, consciously battle incredible odds to stay together, and there have been many circumstances which nearly tore them apart, but in the end, those experiences only draw them closer. This is an idea that recurs again and again in science fiction, the notion that one of the things that makes us human is the impulse, the drive to band together and create teams and communities. We are social creatures, and most of us work better with others around to back us up, to share and expand on our ideas, to be emotional support. The Doctor seems to feel some of this instinct towards group building, but his circumstances are unique, and he often focuses more on that than the people sharing it with him, which can highlight his inhumanity more than any overt action. After all, deciding whether or not to save a thousand humans from Certain Death doesn’t mean as much when you don’t have a grasp on who they would be leaving behind, the bonds that would be broken without those people.

Another poignant aspect of being human is the knowledge of mortality. This was accentuated in the recent Torchwood arc featuring Martha Jones. Owen, the team doctor, is shot, but Torchwood has the Resurrection Glove, which can bring a person back for a minute or two. However, this is the Mark II, and Owen’s resurrection becomes more long-term. It may only be a few weeks or months (or it could be several decades) before it fails again, but in the meantime, he cannot process food or drink, bruises and bone breaks do not mend, and he has no heartbeat. He and Jack have had several mournful conversations about the dichotomy of their situations, one painfully aware that he might fall and die at any moment, the other just as painfully aware that he will never die, no matter what. One missing the food and the love he can no longer fully appreciate, the other missing the spice of subconscious knowledge that all this could be snatched away. They do not come to an conclusions, for what resolution is there for either of them? But they both become just a little more human to us in that moment.

As a minor side note: is Spike a Whovian? We know he likes Monty Python; he makes reference to ‘The Holy Hand-grenade of Antioch’ and ‘that insidious torture device, the comfy chair’, but in As You Were (6.15), he gives himself the code name ‘The Doctor’. Is this a geekly reference?

Buffy Quibble

OK, it's minor, but this one keeps bugging me: At the beginning of Season 1, Buffy was 15 when she started Sophomore year. At the beginning of Season 7, it is implied that Dawn is starting Freshman year, but she is 16. What gives? Sloppy writing? Was she actually taking high school classes before, but in a random building? In fact, for those three years, where were all the teenagers going to school? They could have spent two lines explaining all this, but instead these questions are left to haunt me. *sigh*

Family Of Choice

One of the things that comes up, again and again, in sci-fi/fantasy, is the notion of connectedness, the family you make. It is a thread that runs from Star Wars to Babylon 5, from Doctor Who to Buffy. In every case, teens or adults, generally without close blood family, come together under difficult circumstances, find their strength and their power together, and forge a Family of Choice. (This applies, often more strongly, to written sci-fi, but this blog focuses on filmed art, not prose.)

It is very true that when a group shares a set of experiences, especially if they cannot discuss those experiences with the wider world, they become close. But it can go so far beyond that when the group is a team, when they have a specialized set of skills that integrate well. Consider Buffy and the Scoobies. She is the fighter, stronger and faster than a normal human. Willow has the magical chops. Giles has a wealth of knowledge in their specialized field, and access to even more, plus the training to apply that knowledge and/or teach the others. Xander keeps them all grounded in the real world, reminds them that what they are truly fighting for is humanity, and the safety of ordinary people. Though they have had plenty of arguments, even blow-outs, in the end they are so close they can literally read each others’ minds.

Likewise, Han and Chewbacca are essentially blood brothers, and although Luke and Leia are siblings, they don’t know that when they forge their bond. Through the trials and tests, these four become as close as if they had grown up together, a bond that lasts the rest of their lives. Between them, they have the skills and contacts to move within any circle, interact with any strata of society, from smugglers, thieves and beggars to the heads of planets and empires, and the ability to persuade any of them, whether by money, force, or Force. This makes them an incomparable team for whatever needs doing, especially in the political arenas, both overt and covert.

While often in circumstances like these there are fleeting or unrequited romantic feelings (consider Xander for Buffy, or Willow for Xander, which resulted in a brief fling that stressed two established romantic relationships), in the end the feelings between members of the group are generally those of a more familial love. “You’re like a brother/sister to me” is one of the most common sentiments. The love is generally understated, or described in terms of trust and history; these are people who know the depth of feeling they have for one another, and feel no need to state it time and again.

Often, in life, the families we forge in adulthood serve us and support us better than our blood families ever could, and this is merely writ large in science fiction. It is the unique mix of talents, personalities, and circumstances, that makes a sci-fi team so much more magnificent than a single hero, and something so many geeks aspire to. After all, if you could find, not a single person that compliments you, but a whole group that elevates each other, and that loves you as much as you love them, what more could you ask for?

Whistler In The Dark

So I’ve watched an interesting spectrum of Angel episodes in the past few days, and I’ve come to an intriguing but depressing conclusion- Angel’s life is all about futility. Nothing he does is ever going to be good enough for him, or the Powers That Be. The Shanshu Prophecy is actually the best example of this. I rewatched To Shanshu In LA (1.22), and it talks about how the vampire with a soul will live and die, like a human. Now, add Spike into the equation. First of all, it could be interpreted to say that one will live and one will die, or it could speak to the fact that Spike sacrificed himself to close the Hellmouth and was recorporialized. Either way, things do not look good for The Broody One. Granted, he had no idea that he could become human when he started as hero for hire, but he has always been seeking redemption, and the two concepts become linked from that point onwards.

I also watched In The Dark (1.3), wherein Spike shows up looking for the Gem of Amara. Angel decides in the end not just to not use the ring, which would allow him to walk in daylight and stop fearing stakes, but to destroy it entirely. He is in essence saying that he will forever walk in darkness, that no matter what he does, he’s stuck helping girls with abusive boyfriends, kids trying to fight vampires, and the victims of evil law firms.

And yet he chooses to go on. He talks about it at the beginning of Season 4, when he confronts Connor about his little ocean voyage, about how you behave as if the world is the way you want it to be, and act to bring that about. He will keep fighting the good fight, whether or not it brings him any reward, for the sake of those who cannot fight for themselves. He has taken on a Duty, and he will see it through, no matter what, til the bitter end, because that’s the way the world should be. It should be full of hope, and people helping each other when the going is rough, and all Angel can do is lead by example, and keep trying.

The Choices and the Chosen

Warning: this post is entirely spoilers for Buffy Season 7.

One of the wonderful things about Buffy is her awareness of power dynamics. This is most explicit in Checkpoint (5.17), when she discovers that both the Watcher’s Council and Glory, the Hell-Goddess, are behaving as if she is powerless in an attempt to undermine her power. She reclaims her power, and in the process completely redefines the playing field. However, it is most resonant in Choices (7.22). The name of the episode itself conveys so much: for seven years, we (and Buffy) have been told that she is “the Chosen One”, the one girl in all the world to fight the demons and the forces of darkness. Only a few episodes earlier we had discovered that the power was forced into the First Slayer by the first Watchers, in an act some have likened to metaphysical rape, and that the only help those Watchers could provide was to give Buffy another dose of that essentially-demonic power. Instead, Buffy redefines not only the field, but the entire game. She gives the girls themselves, all the Potential Slayers she has gathered, the choice to take up the power and “be strong”. She takes them from passive creatures to active agents, from “We the Watchers have chosen you to be the Slayer” to “I chose to be a Slayer.”

This is beautifully foreshadowed an episode earlier in the season, Same Time, Same Place (7.3). Willow had spent the summer learning to harness and control her magic use, something which before had been closer to an addiction (the handling of that arc is something I will leave for another posting), and finds herself afraid of her friends’ reaction to seeing her for the first time since she tried to kill them. She magically puts herself out of phase with them, leading eventually to her being attacked by the Monster of the Week and having large chunks of skin eaten. In the ‘tag’ at the end of the episode, she is meditating to heal herself, and then she and Buffy talk. Willow tries to go back to meditation with the line “it hurts too much not to, but it takes so much strength…”. Buffy offers to share her own strength with Willow, saying she’s got so much she’s giving it away. Sure enough, by the end of the season, she has given away her strength, her power, and found herself with more than she started with.

Buffy has long made the conscious choice to be The Slayer. She first actively chooses it at the end of the first season, when she knows of her prophesied death and goes to do her duty anyway. At least once a season after that, she has to reaffirm her decision to put her life on the line for the greater good. In the end, she offers the ultimate Choice to the Potentials, and by proxy all women, and thereby empowers herself and all of them/us. No longer is there a Chosen One, and Buffy is free to make her own choices in life.

The Doctor and the TARDIS: Deus ex Machina

He is, as the Face of Boe has said, the lonely god, the wandering god. But he is not entirely alone. The Doctors may change, over the years, but the TARDIS remains, constancy in his chaotic life, the agent of chaos through which he creates stability.

For this is the true secret of the TARDIS: she is not broken at all, but a sentient being in symbiosis with the Doctor. He has an unparalleled urge to do good, to fix what is broken in the universe and get it all back on track, though he might not always know it, so she indulges him. He chooses a time and place to which he wants to go, and she finds the nearest point of trouble and takes him there. He may complain, and it may result in high Companion turnover, but he loves every minute of it. This is especially poignant with the Tenth Doctor, as he relearns his love of putting things right.

The Ninth Doctor needed Rose, needed someone who would just go along with him because it seemed like a good idea. He had made such terrible judgment calls, lost so much, he just needed someone who could show him the beauty and wonder of the universe again. The Tenth Doctor was a little more together, a little more willing to try his hand at changing things and interfering. Rose, however, was still trying to live as she had with Nine, bouncing around exploring more than actually changing things. This is why Martha was so good for Ten- she has such an impulse towards helping, herself, that she reawaked it in him. He began to actively seek ways to help once again.

The TARDIS, of course, always knows what the Doctor needs. She takes him to his Companions, each of whom is a perfect foil for the Doctor in some way (i.e. Rose could show him how to be happy again, Martha challenged him mentally). She helps him find what he really wants, which is a way to help. Even when all he wants is an escape, she finds a way for him to help someone, which in the end makes him feel better than a simple holiday would. More than all that, though, is an incident from the very end of Nine’s story.

***Spoilers***

The Doctor is seemingly doomed. He has sent Rose away, and locked the TARDIS so they don’t come back for him. In reverse order, Rose: saves the Doctor; leaves herself clues on how to do it in all the time/places they’ve traveled together; takes in the Time Vortex at the heart of the TARDIS (essentially becoming part of it); opens the Vortex; and finds/solves the clues. The TARDIS needs an agent, a being with arms and legs and eyes, in order to do what she wants. In this case, that means saving the Doctor, and incidentally herself, by switching her symbiosis from the Doctor to Rose for a little while. She could then bring them all back together, and fulfill Nine’s other greatest wish, to see the Daleks destroyed before his eyes.

This, by the way, is the reason Ten’s Regeneration is a little jumpy and uncertain: It is linked closely with the TARDIS herself, and she had recently expended a great deal of energy on dealing with Rose and the Daleks and all.

***End Spoiler***

In the end, though the phrase “wandering god” most definitely applies, “lonely god” does not, quite. The Doctor and his TARDIS are as close as a happily-married couple, and it is truly a Pantheon of two.

I love the sound of the TARDIS

Furthermore, I adore the direction they're taking the tenth Doctor. He's been through so much in his 900 years, and even more in the last three or four (all numbers/dates subject to interpretation- this IS a Time Lord).
**Spoilers**
I've just finished Series 3, and oh, Holy Hannah! I've gotta start with the new Master. Delicious! First of all, he has some of the same body language and thought processes as the Doctor, highlighting the fact that they're really just two sides of the same coin. The Doctor interferes because he's trying to help, and the Master interferes because he likes to meddle, and he wants to be in charge of everything. Unfortunately, the Master's newest regeneration is blatantly insane; he's a megalomaniac and a psychopath. Some of the previous regenerations were a bit crazy, but you got the sense that there was a plan. The new one just wants to rule everything, and doesn't care how he gets there. And the terrible things he does to the Doctor! Ohhh, and the way the Doctor sets it right! Gorgeous! But then the Doctor is left to deal with the fallout...
Well, you know, it was bad enough when he thought he was the only Time Lord left, but then to find out there is one other, and it's his ancient foe... How horrible and wonderful that would be! And he tries so hard to help him, to rehabilitate him, and the Master just doesn't care, doesn't want any help, doesn't even want to be around if he can't be in charge and on top of the world. Of course, if one Time Lord can hide in this way, surely others could too. For the Doctor's sake, I'm not willing to believe that there are no others anywhere. I mean, Time Lords! The whole of space/time to hide in, and the technological capacity to change their biological makeup or create a little box outside of time to hide millions of Daleks in! They're out there somewhere, in little pockets and hidey-holes, and the Doctor will find them, gather them, and rebuild his society. I'm sure of it.
The Doctor is making great strides forward anyway. Losing Rose was rough on him, but I think Martha is even more suited to be a Companion. She's sharp, quick on her feet both physically and mentally, and an excellent observer. She also challenges him more than Rose did. I do feel sorry for her that he's so busy thinking about Rose that he doesn't really see Martha for a long time, or realize her feelings for him for a lot longer. I really want him to acknowledge his own feelings more, though. He keeps so much bottled up, in order to appear strong and in control. But you can tell Martha is good for him because he's actually said the word "Gallifrey" to her, and described the place a little, neither of which he ever did with Rose. It's cheesy, but I think in some ways, Rose was an anchor, keeping him from losing himself in revenge or misery, and Martha is wings, helping him get out and explore the universe as he used to love to do.
Finally, one of my favorite parts: Captain Jack. Well, really, the whole suite of "alternative" sexualities that populate the show. (also, Jack is HOT, but that's a side issue) First there was Jack, back in the first series, who flirted with anything that was sentient and bipedal. Then he kissed Rose, and immediately the Ninth Doctor. Yum! (I have a friend who insists they were a trio, and I don't really disagree) Then, early this series, there was William Shakespeare, who flirted heavily with Martha. When the Doctor called him on it, he flirted with the Doctor, who actually somewhat responded. Then there were the old lesbians, who insisted that they were married, and clearly had that old-married-couple dynamic. And now Captain Jack has come back, but the Doctor is more impatient with his flirting ways, and less responsive. Granted, that's for complicated reasons, including the effects of Rose and the time vortex, and the fact that Jack reminds the Doctor that Rose is beyond reach, but when Martha says something about fancying the Doctor, who doesn't see her, Jack indicates that he's in the same position. I gotta say, I was really hoping Jack and the new Doctor would kiss, since that would be hella hot, and also I think good for the Doctor, but there were good story reasons why they didn't, and I'm ok with that. There were also crazy revelations about Jack and another character we've known since episode 2 or 3 (ie 9th Dr), but I'm not going to go into that yet.
I'm not sure this fits the "alternative" sexuality topic, and I'm sure it's less of a big deal in Britain, but this season had a lot of couples with a black man and a white woman. I'm not sure what to make of that, but it does intrigue me, since even now that can be a hot-button issue in the States, and no one on the show even seemed to notice, let alone care, which is cool
In summation, I'm incredibly glad it all comes back at Christmas, since I don't think I could wait til next summer for more of the gorgeous, wonderful 10th Doctor.