pp: russel t davies

Something I really miss about the RTD Era Doctor Who

The ridiculous names he and the writers gave everything.

the most beautiful words in the english lenguage


“What Rose brings to the Doctor’s life is completion, it’s completing a circle – he’s male, he’s alien, he’s a traveler. Between the two of them together they complement each other and discover each other. And are in love with each other, absolutely, unashamedly, unreservedly.”

-Russell T Davies

about moffat leaving

i’m having mixed reactions to moffat leaving. while it’s going to be a good thing to have chinball (broadchurch, torchwood, and other doctor who ep. he’s done), taking over; PLEASE GIVE MOFFAT LOVE THAT HE DESERVES!

he’s given us 11, amy and rory, river (with a bad ass backstory!), clara, 12, missy, and gallifrey, and the 50th!

and in my personal opinion, two of my ships (11/clara and 12/clara)

while we welcome chinball, please go and thank moffat for the best era we’ve had when russel had handed him the reigns! :D

Still working on this, but making slow progress, what with the building and the moving and all.  But I tweaked the face a bit, and I started roughing out the clothes.

Since I’m so critical of this series, and I’m about to be more critical, I think it’s important that I talk about WHY I watch it. I don’t love hating on things.

RTD’s Doctor Who set the bar really damn high, admittedly. Maybe it just hit me at a certain time when I needed to see it, but that show changed my life. When Rose says “The Doctor showed me a better way to live” in the first series finale, I realized that was the message for all of us. That we love inspirational fiction, we watch uplifting movie after uplifting movie, yet somehow we’re never truly uplifted, the stories fail because they don’t stay with us, they don’t really change us, we turn the TV off and we go back to exactly who we were. We watch the underdog triumph again and again, we love that narrative, yet those of us who are really underdogs never think we can do it in real life, we never apply it. As Rose realized her potential, and went from an apathetic sales clerk drifting through life without purpose to someone courageous and driven who didn’t give up even when it was hopeless, I found strength too.

And I came to not only fiercely love the Doctor, but even identify with him. In The Impossible Planet, when Ten is stranded, seemingly having lost the TARDIS forever, his utter lack of ability to cope with the things that are expected of a person, like getting a mortgage or something, rang very true to me. And I felt that I, like the Doctor, was someone who wasn’t very good at “normal” things, and it was easy to believe that because of that, I was worthless, but that that was overlooking qualities I have that aren’t as valued by society but could make me valuable in my own, different kind of way. I’d spent so much time thinking “good at mortgages” was the only way to be a good adult, a good human, and from Doctor Who I realized I could be good with bravery, a spirit of adventure, and of course amazing friends.

As a writer, I’ve loved the arcs of RTD’s companions. I realized that each one was special, and not because of something that happened to them, or even something the Doctor gave them, but because each and every person is born full of amazing potential and possibility, each and every person is their own fantastic universe. And little by little, somehow, that’s obscured. Every time we’re talked over or told we’re not interesting, every time we’re told to “be realistic,” every time we’re rammed into gender roles, every little insult, each minor wound, tarnishes us until we don’t even know who we were. And the Doctor’s magic isn’t that he makes people extraordinary, but that he sees through the gunk of insignificance we’ve picked up in our travels, he knows who we really are, and he helps us see it, too. The moments Rose, Martha, and Donna were really allowed to shine, it was with the brilliance they’d had in there all along, and you could see the Doctor’s joy in witnessing them discovering it. Having watched a bunch of the classics too, I know that was most often the Doctor’s role—as a mentor, a stepping stone to greatness. I believe he really tried to leave each companion better than he found them, and was utterly crushed in situations when he failed to do so. Companions don’t stay with him forever because that isn’t their role, or his. He lifts them up, and he lets them go. That’s the Doctor.

And I fell so profoundly in love with this character, this universe, this sense of wonder and discovery. I started watching the classic episodes purely out of love for the world RTD showed me, and I think that’s what he most hoped to accomplish, because this was a world he fell in love with too.

And that, that is why I’m still watching. Not because I’m a hater, not because I love to be cynical and prove I’m so much more progressive and socially aware than you. Did RTD make mistakes? Hell yeah. But my metric for enjoyment isn’t whether the show was completely socially just, because then I’d never get to enjoy anything, and I like enjoyment. I can let a certain amount of bullshit go if you move me, if the story is GOOD and I love watching the characters interact. That doesn’t mean it isn’t worth calling out bullshit in good stories, it’s more of at the end of the day, did I enjoy it enough that it was worth it anyway?

I don’t watch Doctor Who for the amazing, tightly-woven plots, or the special effects, or the scientific realism, or any of the many things you could probably get better somewhere else. I watch it for the Doctor, and the close, often intense relationships he has with his companions, the love and the growth and the way they somehow make each other more themselves, the way true friends do.


“More importantly, Colin Morgan is beautiful. You meet him in real life and think, yeah, nice, sweet. But he’s one of those lucky bastards that the camera absolutely loves. All cheekbones and black hair and mmm! He’s a seriously excellent actor, too. Every line, he makes a really interesting choice.”-Dr. Who producer Russel T. Davies, (p. 315) The Writer’s Tale.

I’m thinking about Donna, Martha, Rose, Jack, Sarah Jane and Mickey as a team, and the tagline: ‘ONE OF THEM WILL DIE!’ I’d watch that! Trouble is, I don’t want to kill any of them. Rose Tyler was never created to die. None of them was. They were all created to show off Doctor Who’s central premise: the world and the universe is wonderful, ordinary people can do great things, and the human race survives. At a cost, yes, but a cost to the supporting characters. I mean, really, imagine Martha’s death. Or Donna’s. Or even Jackie’s. It’s just wrong. Tonally, wrong.
—  The Writer’s Tale. by RTD. p73.

I think when people criticize Moffat because of series 7 (which I understand, it had its flaws), they forget the brilliance of series 5. It transformed a cheesy adventure show into real, mature science fiction, and fully explored the implications of time travel.

It is very similar to the change that went over the show when John Nathan-Turner took over Who in 1980. He took Doctor Who seriously, unlike Graham Williams, the previous producer. (don’t even mention the Horns of Nimon or the Creature from the Pit)

Which best introduces the new Doctor: ‘Christmas Invasion’ or 'The Eleventh Hour’? 'Nuff said. 

May I also point out that Moffat wrote some episodes for RTD, including ¨The Empty Child¨, ¨The Girl in the Fireplace¨, ¨Blink¨, and ¨Silence in the Library¨. These are recognized as some of the best episodes of the show, and the weeping angels have become the most popular monster, beating even the daleks. Moffat also created River Song, Rory, and the Silence. So next time you critisize Moffat, think: Is it Moffat you hate, or do you just miss David Tennant?

“Why I Love RTD” by a Steven Moffat fan

Inspired by this post by @the-perennial-outsider and recent discussions on @scriptscribbles‘ blog.

If I wish for people to have an appreciation for both eras, then surely I need to apply this idea to myself as well.

When I watched the RTD era for the first time, it was hurried, four series and a number of specials in what, in retrospect, might not have been more than a week. I walked away not unimpressed, but ultimately not touched in the way I nearly envy in others. The expectations were simply to high and I could not replicate the attachment and adoration I often saw expressed in the fandom.

Now that I am re-watching these series - slowly, over months if not years, with my parents and my 11-year-old sister by my side - I feel a much greater amount of love for this version of my favourite show. It’s not necessarily the kind of appreciation a “true” RTD fan will have, but it’s my kind of appreciation. Moffat era Doctor Who owes much more than just its mere existence to the RTD era, more even than turning Doctor Who into 21st century television.

Keep reading

“Moffat introduced the concept that being the Doctor’s companion can be addicting and intoxicating.”
O rly?

I’m addicted to you
Don’t you know that you’re toxic
And I love what you do
Don’t you know that you’re toxic

Toxic - The End of the World

First thing Rose finds out about the Doctor? “His only constant companion is death.” Then she gets chased, kidnapped, possessed, and nearly killed at every turn, and still she’s like
“How long are you going to stay with me?”
Because she loves him, but also because she loves what they do. 

Then there’s Martha, who nearly loses her whole family, but manages to get out before it’s too late. Like you do with an addiction.

Once I ran to you
Now I’ll run from you

Tainted Love - The End of the World

And Donna, who almost fries her brain, and loses her memories except for some weird flashbacks. Like with some drugs.

Not to mention Classic Who companions.

Yep, travelling with the Doctor can be very addicting and intoxicating.
Since day one.