Dark Water / Death in Heaven
review

Holistic Review: A very promising setup mostly fizzles out, but it's consistently entertaining nevertheless.

Dark Water / Death in Heaven is one of those middle-of-the-road stories that doesn't quite live up to the clever ideas of its premise. Which is a shame, because as the finale to one of the strongest seasons of the revival (and the first two-parter we've had since 2011), my expectations were certainly, if cautiously, high. I've been eagerly looking forward to learning the truth about Missy, the identity and motivations of the mysterious woman in the shop, and how the tension in Clara's relationships with the Doctor and Danny would be resolved. On that count, it doesn't disappoint. All of these dangling questions are addressed, and Dark Water additionally introduces two rather gripping possibilities: first, that the TARDIS can travel even to the afterlife, and second, that the dead continue to feel everything that happens to their bodies after they've passed on. So there's a fair amount of meaty plot development to chew on in this story, or at least there ought to be. Sadly, none of these elements are explored deeply enough to really satisfy me, but the journey through this two-parter is still a fun ride. Plus it's the first time since The Curse of Fenric that I've actually had a birthday story (thanks to its being a two-parter), so that was a treat.

Death — and specifically the afterlife — isn't a concept that televised Doctor Who has ever really tackled, to no great surprise. It's potentially a volatile topic to broach, given what strong feelings many people have on the subject, so there's a risk of angering or alienating the audience in the process, but I'm glad that Doctor Who is willing to try. Still, the potential controversy means that Doctor Who can't give a definitive answer on the subject, so we eventually discover that — even though evidence in support of this theory continues to mount — the Nethersphere isn't really the afterlife at all. (The real afterlife, although confirmed to exist, remains offscreen, tantalizingly unseen.) All things considered, that's probably for the best. While it's a cool idea for the TARDIS to be able to travel beyond life itself, it would have all kinds of headache-inducing ramifications, not least the relative ease with which TARDIS travellers could visit deceased loved ones. That's perhaps the biggest danger with allowing characters to travel to and from the afterlife (as Missy, the Afghan boy, and the Cyber-souls do): it threatens to make death seem impermanent. Not only does it rob death of its impact, it can be cruel to the fans, if certain characters are magically able to be resurrected (or "rescued" from the afterlife) but others aren't. Buffy handled this really well, by establishing firm rules for when characters could, and couldn't, be resurrected, and by making it a painfully difficult feat to accomplish. But this issue is relatively new territory for Doctor Who. Prior to the revival, death on Doctor Who was a lot like death on 24: generally permanent, aside from the occasional recurring character who schemed miraculous ways to survive. Since 2005, death has become a little more flexible, with loopholes frequently abounding: just look at Rory, for goodness' sake. At any rate, I say all of this in order to praise this two-parter for mostly managing to avoid that pitfall, when I was half-expecting it to trip right in. With the exception of the Afghan boy, no deceased souls are returned to their own undamaged corporeal bodies. Otherwise, everyone who's died basically stays dead, bar a brief interlude as a Cyberman.

One of the more original plot ideas in Dark Water is also by far its most disturbing: the suggestion that, in the afterlife, the dead can still feel everything that happens to their earthbound corpse. As an idea for a horror series where the intention is to unsettle and terrify adults (I'm thinking of something like American Horror Story here), this is superb and effective. As an idea for a family TV show, though, I'm not so certain. Don't get me wrong, I'm all for giving kids a healthy dose of "fun fear", but this seems like it could cross the line into trauma. It's one step away from those nightmarish stories of anaesthesia awareness, when people are paralyzed but still conscious during surgery. In some ways it's even worse, because few people know someone who's suffered through anaesthesia awareness, but in the scenario Dark Water presents, anyone might have inflicted this torture on their loved ones without even realizing it. I can't help but wonder what was going through the minds of any children who had recently had to deal with, say, Grandma's death and cremation. That's a sad enough event, without compounding it by making the poor child think that Grandma felt her cremation. And what about children who lose family members in the near future? I can just imagine them panicking hysterically if they find out that the deceased had chosen to be cremated. If burial practices were up to the nation's kids, this episode might have singlehandedly bankrupted the UK's cremation industry. While I appreciate the BBC's dedication to defending Doctor Who from outraged moral crusaders, their response after Dark Water aired seems a trifle too handwavy: "When the Doctor does hear these claims, he immediately pours scorn on them, dismissing them out of hand as a 'con' and a 'racket'. It transpires that he is correct, and the entire concept is revealed to be a scam perpetrated by Missy." While it's true that the Doctor dismisses the possibility, it wouldn't be the first time that he was wrong; and we certainly don't learn in Dark Water that it is indeed a con. In fact, we're never conclusively told that our consciousness doesn't stay linked to our earthly bodies after death; even in Death in Heaven, it's only hinted at.

Without a doubt, in my opinion at least, one of the main highlights of the entire story is Missy (Michelle Gomez). As I've mentioned in previous reviews, I've been enjoying the character all season long. Missy's been doled out in just the right amount to keep us intrigued but not weary, so I've been eager to finally get to spend more time with the character. I think it's fair to say that I was very, very surprised by what we learned about her. Being the spoilerphobe that I am, I'd managed to avoid pretty much all speculation as to Missy's identity, just in case someone hit the nail on the head (which apparently plenty of people did)... at least, up until the Saturday that Dark Water aired, when my friend Kristi posted a comment on my Facebook wall before I'd had a chance to watch the episode: "So there once was an eeevil Timelord lady and her name was The Rani, right? I'm not just making this up, right?!?" There's only one reason she'd be asking, wouldn't you say? So going into the episode, I had a pretty good idea that Missy was going to be revealed as a Time Lord, but thankfully this "big reveal" was topped by an even greater one. I was so clueless: the penny didn't even drop when Missy snarked that she couldn't very well call herself "the Mistress". No, it pretty much wasn't until the words "the Master" actually came out of her mouth that my jaw dropped, and suddenly I didn't feel so spoiled on her identity after all. (Even without Kristi's comment, I doubt I would have suspected that Missy was the Rani, as the production team clearly hoped; her scheme doesn't feel like something the Rani would do, but it's absolutely in line with the Master's usual plans.) So I'm pleased to say that I was very shocked, and in a very good way. I think it's brilliant.

I admit I've been reluctant to embrace the idea of a female Doctor, and I don't really know why. I desperately hope it's not some kind of subconscious misogyny or transphobia; I dread to think that I could harbor that kind of prejudice and not even realize it. I'm certainly not against the idea of a female Doctor in principle. As far as I'm concerned, television can never have too many intelligent, capable female leads (and Doctor Who has given us some doozies in the past, Romana foremost among them). The only explanation I can articulate that feels 'right' is "the Doctor has always been a man". And of course that's ridiculous. 'Tradition' is about as weak an argument as you can get for maintaining the status quo. So what I think it boils down to is that I'm slow to adjust to change (as proven by the fact that I've been living in the same apartment for 14 years, despite the fact that I outgrew it about 10 years ago). Change is part of the very fabric of Doctor Who, and I've always celebrated it, but Time Lord gender has never been fluid until very recently, and even then it wasn't prominent — our sole example until now, The Doctor's Wife, had only one casual reference to a character we've never met — so there hasn't been a precedent for this kind of change. For example, I would be equally unenthusiastic about the idea of recasting the Rani as a man, although I realize that's like comparing apples to oranges, because part of the Rani's appeal is that she's a relatively uncommon example of a strong female villain (in comparison to the number of strong male villains in fiction). Recasting the Doctor as a woman would help to redress the balance; gender-bending the Rani would only make the imbalance worse. But recasting the Master as a woman? Oh my goodness yes. All my idiotic concerns go right out the window. For one thing, it's not such a departure for the Master. I mean, we've seen him as a dessicated husk of a corpse and as a gelatinous bodysnatching snake! A female form is way less of a stretch than that snake, am I right? And it gives a long-running character a fresh angle, although that could certainly be said for the Doctor, too, if the production team should ever decide to go that route. But what hit me most strongly and immediately was that genderbending the Master is a clever way to ease the audience into the idea, like a trial run for what it might be like to genderswap the Doctor. The Master is a major character, so this certainly isn't an insignificant change, yet it's not 'threatening' to anyone who's dead-set against the Doctor being a woman. Nobody, as far as I'm aware, is as attached to the idea that the Master is (inherently) male (although with a name like his, you'd expect the gender association to be even stronger!). So, why not give it a whirl with the Master and see how fans react?

My guess? I'm probably not the only one who was blown away by Michelle Gomez' performance. As I expected, she's riveting. There's an innate sweetness to her voice and her mannerisms, but it's tempered by the calculating, mischievous look in her eyes, and the fact that the cutesiness in her voice is cranked up to a saccharine and insincere eight or nine out of ten. It gives her the feel of a cuddly-looking tiger, or an evil doll, or the witch in the gingerbread house who lures you in with charm and false concern, only to strike when your guard is down. Except that Missy isn't really bothered about sneak attacks; she tells people to their face that she's about to murder them, and gives them time to make peace with their deity before she does the deed! This all combines to make Missy seem highly unpredictable. I was a fan from the moment we first saw her, but the moment when Michelle Gomez unreservedly won me over was her first appearance as fake-AI Missy. On her very first line, I remember thinking that something about her performance felt off. At first I thought of it as a criticism, but once it became clear that this was meant to be a different version of the character, I was seriously impressed. To make her performance that distinct, so immediately yet subtly, is really skillful. I loved her mysterious unreadable expression as she backs away from the Doctor after their kiss (is she elated? shocked? triumphant? all of the above?); her robotic delivery of the very funny line "Helping you to help me to help you."; "I am in charge!" in which she channels Catherine Tate's Derek; "Doctor Chang!"; "I'm always going to keep it, always."; "Oh, that was nice. Let's do it again."; "Hey Missy — excuse me."; "This is our secret girl plan!"; her delightful use of "Oh my giddy aunt."; her heartbreaking "I need you to know we're not so different! I need my friend back."; and her sad "I know."

Not that the character's perfect, by any means. Remember back when I wondered if Missy, like practically all of Moffat's lead females, was going to be feisty, flirty, and dangerous? Yes, yes, and yes. And how. Plus somewhat unhinged, or at least she uses that as a convenient excuse for her behavior. Which brings up my main issue with Missy, which is unfortunately the same issue that I had with John Simm (and Eric Roberts). After decades of Delgado and Ainley, Missy's zany-batty version just isn't quite believable as the same character. Well, a regenerated John Simm, yeah, totally. But a regenerated Delgado? Whew, it's a stretch. The biggest stretch of all, for me, was my dawning realization that the Master was the same woman who twittered about the Doctor being her boyfriend and greeted him with a great big smackeroo right on the lips (with tongue, apparently). I mean, okay, I knew there was always some homoerotic subtext going on between the Doctor and the Master, but I never realized it was going to get so... texty! (You know there are plenty of people who'd pay good money to see this episode reenacted with David Tennant and John Simm!) Maybe it's just an act to throw the Doctor off from guessing her identity? But I'm not convinced, because she half-expects him to have figured it out already. So either there's some genuine romantic interest there, or she's just toying with him. Still, I suppose her character overhaul isn't that much more drastic than the difference between McCoy and McGann, or Colin Baker and Matt Smith, or Davison and Tennant... one couldn't be bothered with romance, the other was forever making out with near-strangers. And given the depth of the Master's obsession with the Doctor for all these centuries, I guess it makes sense that it would get unleashed as sexual tension once the two of them were in appropriately-inclined bodies. (Perhaps it's just a good thing it wasn't Missy opposite the tenth Doctor, otherwise she might've gotten her friend back, with benefits.) The real saving grace for Missy's character, though, is her plan.

Now, let me first take a moment — perhaps a lot of moments — to specify that in general, Missy's plan is confusing hogwash. As seems to have become the trend with Moffat's episodes lately, there's a lot of exciting action but the plot itself is rather limp. "Ooh, the Cybermen are converting the dead!" is a great hook, but it doesn't withstand scrutiny terribly well. Too many details are left vague or contradictory for the plot to gel convincingly. To wit:

  1. How many human minds are in the Nethersphere? We're given conflicting information: Seb claims that "it's the storage of recently deceased minds", but Danny knows that the Afghan boy "died a long time ago", the Doctor assumes that "[Missy]'s been upgrading dying minds to a hard drive [as long as] the human race [has] had a concept of an afterlife", we see one Cyberman emerging from a grave dated 1748, and Missy claims that "everyone who ever lived [...] is now at my command". This has important ramifications for the entire episode. If Missy has only uploaded the recently deceased, then each graveyard is only going to lose a fraction of its inhabitants to Cyber-conversion (unless of course it's a recent graveyard, or a very old one, but you get my point). But if Missy has indeed been using the Nethersphere since the concept of an afterlife was formed, then it's quite possible that, as Missy claims, every grave on the planet is eventually going to birth a Cyberman. That possibility raises two questions. One: although emptying every grave on Earth will ease issues like graveyard congestion and groundwater contamination, won't it result in mass social (not to mention literal) upheaval, if buildings around the world collapse as the long-hidden gravesites beneath them are emptied? Two: we plainly see that not every grave has hatched a Cyberman yet. (As Kate says, "In each case, only a handful of Cybermen have so far emerged. [...] More are coming. Potentially millions.") If Missy has only harvested recent minds, that's not a problem, because we can assume that all the bodies that were going to turn into Cybermen have already done so, and all those Cyberman have already exploded in the atmosphere. But if she's harvested all dead minds, then as Kate says, there must be several million Cybermen yet to emerge at the end of the story. (At the very least, the Brigadier is flying around somewhere.) Who's going to get rid of them?

  2. The broader ramification: if Missy has been snatching every dying human mind from throughout human history, then doesn't that mean that the Nethersphere is the afterlife? Or, at least, the only afterlife that anyone on Earth has ever known (whether or not there's a true afterlife beyond it that's been lying empty for millennia, or populated exclusively by the souls of companion animals). The Doctor seems to think so: "Turns out the afterlife is real, and it's emptying." The Nethersphere clearly isn't just a con, because it does house actual deceased souls. Is the Nethersphere something like an artificial purgatory, powered by Time Lord technology?

  3. On a related note: Missy's bracelet was designed to transport her in and out of the Nethersphere. So how come it apparently works just as well in the real afterlife?

  4. In Missy's plan, what happens to the souls of people whose bodies were cremated? Or the souls of people from Earth's future, like Gretchen? There's no body to be upgraded for their souls to reinhabit, so where do their souls go after they rain down to Earth? (If Missy's only using recently-dead minds, maybe they inhabit long-dead bodies that aren't theirs?)

  5. If the Nethersphere, aka the human afterlife, is also the oft-rumored Promised Land as Seb states, then the various robots trying to reach it can't have been very well-educated about where exactly they were trying to go. Otherwise, why didn't the Half-Face Man and his clockwork cohort kill themselves ages ago? And the robots of Sherwood should have exploded their ship from the very start. The Nethersphere apparently isn't the sort of place you can reach just by traversing time or space. And is it even open to robot sentience? (And pet cats? The truth must be uncovered.)

  6. Is there any reason why Missy appears to have been particularly pursuing people who sacrificed themselves for the Doctor? If she was collecting everyone who'd ever died, then maybe we only saw those particular "abductions" because they happened to dovetail with the story at hand. But if she was collecting only the recently deceased, then we're never given any insight as to why she might be deliberately incorporating some of the Doctor's recent casualties from throughout time and space. All she says is that she travelled along his timeline and realized that the Doctor needed to know that the two of them weren't all that different, but that still doesn't explain why she incorporated some of his associates into the Nethersphere.

  7. All these wealthy people agreed to be buried in 3W as a way to ensure they wouldn't be cremated, specifically because they didn't want to feel themselves being burned alive... but how did Missy persuade them that being permanently submerged in water was any improvement? I wouldn't want to feel like I was drowning for the rest of my afterlife. Is the "support exoskeleton" supposed to be a protective measure against exactly that?

  8. If these corpses were immediately converted into Cybermen, and aren't actually exposed to the water, then how come all of them have rotted away to skeletons?

  9. As cool as the concept (and the visual) is, what exactly is the point of keeping the Cybermen in dark water? Just because it keeps them hidden in plain sight, I suppose?

  10. How exactly does Missy typically convince her 3W patrons that they should delete their emotions? She can't be playing on their fears about cremation, because their water tanks are supposed to prevent that possibility. Besides, how would she have convinced the ones who died in societies, or times, where burning wasn't a common funereal practice? And despite the setup, they never play this card on Danny in order to convince him to join them. So does she confront everyone with their deepest regret from life? If that were true, you'd think that the people they see would be clever fakes generated by Missy from their own thoughts; but the boy who confronts Danny appears to be real.

  11. If Cyber-Danny didn't obey Missy because he never deleted his emotions while he was in the Nethersphere, well, he can't have been the only one to refuse the offer to upgrade? Surely a lot of these other Cybermen are in the same boat. (As, for example, the Brigadier!)

  12. Missy blankets the Earth with menacing dark Cyber-clouds which will either convert most of the dead, convert all of the dead, or convert everyone living and dead. (Specifics, schmecifics.) In order to destroy the clouds and save humanity, Missy tells the Doctor that he must... take her Cyber-army and conquer the universe? Eh? What good will that do?! Will the clouds know once the universe has been united under one rule, and disperse? Plus, by the time the Doctor conquers the universe, those clouds will have either rained (and killed everyone) or plunged the Earth into a neverending drought (and killed everyone, or at least sent them spiralling into permanent seasonal depression).

  13. It seems like a too-easy answer to have the Cybermen just burn the clouds. Since when are clouds flammable? But I suppose I can buy that if the Cybermen created them, they can destroy them too. Just.

  14. So there's no problem with thousands of Cybermen exploding above the Earth's surface and showering it with Cyberman-replicating debris? Won't that contaminate the entire planet? Or is the second wave of Cybermen built of non-pollinating metal?

  15. Even if we buy that Missy's bracelet can bring people back from the afterlife, how does it survive being blown up when Cyber-Danny ignites the clouds?

  16. Several of Missy's prior appearances make very little sense in the context of what we now know. First, if Missy's plan is to upgrade human bodies to create Cybermen, then what need did she have of the Half-Face Man? Did his clockwork body make him easier to upgrade, or would his inorganic nature make him useless for her purposes?

  17. Second, we're never told why Missy was surprised by the outcome of In the Forest of the Night... of which, incidentally, the finale has not improved my opinion as I had hoped.

  18. Third, a biggie. After a year and a half of the "woman in the shop" mystery, not only does she turn out to be Missy (the most obvious answer, which is no big surprise after River turned out to be the Doctor's wife, and the Doctor the man she murdered), we're given absolutely zero reason why Missy was so determined to make sure the Doctor and Clara stayed together. What did it matter to her? As far as I can tell, Clara wasn't an even remotely integral part of her plan. And is anyone else now slightly bothered by the fact that Clara was preordained to meet the Doctor not once but twice over?

So Missy's plan has its fair share of weak spots. "How then can it be the character's saving grace?" I can hear you asking, and that's an excellent question. The answer: while most of her plan is dubious, the dénouement is superb and nearly makes up for it. As I mentioned earlier, right up until her final scene, I was feeling a bit downcast that Missy bore so little resemblance to the Master that we know and love. I couldn't decide if that was the new Master's doolally personality, or if what I really felt was missing was a hint of their shared bond. Goodness knows not all of the Master stories have alluded to their former friendship, especially once Ainley took over the role, so I didn't feel like I should hold the lack of it against the story, but I find it portrays the character in a much-needed sympathetic light that always lifts, and deepens, an episode. And in the end, that's exactly what we got, perhaps more expicit and more heartbreaking than ever before.

Missy assembling an army of Cybermen to control the universe? Boring.
Missy giving an army of Cybermen to the Doctor? Intriguing.
Missy putting the Doctor in charge of an army in order to bring him down to her level, so that they can be friends again? Enthralling. And perversely sweet.

Which is why I refuse to believe that Missy is really dead. I mean, puh-leeze. She's the Master. Escaping from apparently inescapable death is her party trick. Besides, didn't that Cyber-blast look a bit like a teleport? (Although while we're on the topic of the Master's many fakeout deaths, I would rather like to know what caused the John Simm version to regenerate? And, for that matter, how did s/he escape Gallifrey and get back to our universe? Presumably we'll learn the answer to that question in time... and it does imply that Missy probably does know Gallifrey's current location.)

There's one other issue that I have with Missy, but it's got nothing to do with Michelle Gomez or the character herself. Missy gets basically nothing to do in the entire story. Aside from that final scene, her only other noteworthy moment is when she escapes from her captivity on the plane, but that's more about building her character and the threat she poses than letting her affect the plot. In the rest of the story, she toys with the Doctor for ages, releases the Cybermen (maybe that counts for something), then gets captured and pretty much stays out of the way for the entire second half, until she decides to show off her Mary Poppins impersonation. Why bring her back if you're not really going to do anything with her? Especially when her plan is half-baked as it is. What makes it even worse — for the episode's sake, at least, although it probably makes Michelle Gomez feel better — is that Missy isn't the only character who gets underused.

Name me one thing that the Cybermen actually do in this story. That's right: nothing. Do they instill terror into anyone's hearts? No: they pose for pictures, explode in the sky, stumble innocently around a cemetery, and apparently kill nobody other than Colonel Ahmed. They don't even convert the dead; that's Missy's handiwork.

How about Danny? Like Missy, the ending is relatively good for him, but he spends the vast majority of the story just hanging around a balcony or a cemetery, deceased and depressed.

And Clara? Who's apparently so important to the second half that Jenna Coleman gets first billing in the title credits? And they use her eyes instead of Capaldi's? That might have been fun for Flatline, in which Clara genuinely did take over the Doctor's role for an entire episode, but I was immediately suspicious that in this case, it was nothing more than a cheap gag based on Clara's almost-certainly-short-lived deception of the Cybermen. And sure enough, I was right: her little ruse lasts for all of two scenes, and she spends the rest of the episode hanging out in a graveyard with Cyber-Danny. So what was the purpose of those opening credits, aside from Steven Moffat bragging about what a fantastic character he'd created?

Nor does it help that so many plot elements feel underused, particularly in Death in Heaven. What is that episode about, really? When you get right down to it, the only really important part is the showdown between the Doctor and the Master, and everything else is just marking time or manoeuvring everyone into position.

But the story's ending is really strong, as the Doctor and Clara both misunderstand each other and lie to spare one another's feelings. It's so heartbreakingly sad, because you know they each need to unburden their heartache to their best friend, but they're afraid of shattering the other's happiness and plans for the future. Clara's goodbye to him — "Doctor. Travelling with you made me feel really special. Thank you for that. Thank you for making me feel special." — is deeply sweet, and exactly the sort of thing you always wish that a companion would say to the Doctor when they leave the TARDIS for good. So this is one of the best exits a companion has gotten, actually... even though of course we know it isn't going to last.

Even without Santa's reminder that "Doctor, you know it can't end like that, hmm? We need to get this sorted, quickly. She's not all right, you know, and neither are you.", I wouldn't have really believed that this was the last we'd see of Clara. If for no other reason, the opening scene of Dark Water implies that Clara has drawn a lot of threads together and come to some overarching conclusion about the whole season, for which she is largely responsible. ("Oh Danny, everything is better when you're here, but maybe... maybe not this. Okay. Erm... okay. Before all of that, before all of the stuff that I did wrong... I love you.") Exactly what discovery has motivated her to plaster her flat with sticky notes is as-yet-unrevealed, but I trust that we'll find out in the Christmas special — by which of course I mean we'd better — unless it turns out that we're going to have the pleasure of Clara's company for another season. (But if the rumors are true that Clara's leaving in the next story, then hey, how about that revelation that the first story of series nine is set on an alien planet? Alien companion, anyone???) Then again, Clara herself appears to be hinting that whatever she's done will result in her untimely death, or at least such is the impression given by lines like "Danny, I will never say those words again, not to anybody else, ever. Those words from me are yours now.", "Danny, I love you, and you're the last person who's ever gonna hear me say that." and "I'm never gonna say that again." So either she's doomed and she knows it, or she's melodramatic and passionate enough to believe that she'll never again be capable of feeling the love that she feels for Danny, and frankly I think Clara's a lot more pragmatic than that. At any rate, her deep conversation with Danny gets cut off before it ever begins, and we never come back to it, so I have to believe that it's being saved for a future plot point, which necessitates Clara's return.

Although death is certainly no stranger to the Doctor Who universe, there's something thematically satisfying, if also poignantly sad, in the way that Clara's story is bookended by loss — first of her mother, now of Danny — and the realization that grief has motivated much of Clara's adult life. It is indeed interesting to see the lengths to which Clara is willing to go in order to rescue Danny; while it's to be expected that she wouldn't blink at sacrificing herself for the chance to bring him back, it's a colder decision that she's willing to sacrifice the Doctor if she can't force his hand. She's much icier with the Doctor than I would have imagined she could be, although I also doubt she would've tried pulling a stunt like that on the gentler eleventh Doctor. I thought, at first, that after throwing away the seventh key, Clara was immediately hit by the reality of what she'd done and was genuinely shocked and repentant, but on later viewings I realized that she appears to be sobbing "I'd say I'm sorry but I'd do it again!" Well then. This scene certainly doesn't paint her character in the most flattering light, but that's a good thing, because not only does it give her character flaws, they're flaws that are totally in line with her "control freak" personality. The way the situation is resolved also works wonders for Clara's rapport with the Doctor, but we'll come back to that. The story again highlights how skilled Clara's getting at thinking on her feet and impersonating the Doctor — or, to be a bit more blunt, how good she's getting at lying. Again, it's questionable whether that's a good or bad talent, but at least in this case it saves Clara's life, and series 8 has certainly helped Clara grow into an independent, self-sufficient woman. I'm also impressed that series 8 has kept me guessing about whether Clara was going to depart the TARDIS or remain a companion, a question that lingers even now. In the internet age, that kind of uncertainty is difficult to pull off. Loved Coleman's delivery of "Uh, yeah, who's this?", "Nobody deserves anything.", and her convincing emotion as Clara prepares to activate Danny's inhibitor.

Poor Danny. I had a dream, the night before Death in Heaven aired, that Danny took Clara's place aboard the TARDIS for the majority of the episode, and I was all panicked thinking that I'd let the cat out of the bag in my last review and unintentionally spoiled that Danny was going to become a companion. (As far as I recall, my dream did not account for the fact that Danny was, you know, dead and all.) Clearly, my dreaming subconscious was way off. I was pretty clueless about how Danny's relationship with Clara would wind up — would he convince her to leave the Doctor? would he break up with her over yet another lie? would they all live happily forever after? — but in all my musings, despite the theme of series 8 and the title of the second part, it never once occurred to me that he might be suddenly killed off. Given that the whole series has been building up to some kind of confrontational culmination to their relationship, this plot twist almost feels like it lets the air out of the season in one massive whoosh, which is a very apt way to convey the feeling of a loved one's sudden death. I had wondered, especially given Clara's reaction to his death, if we were going to have another Father's Day style episode, so it's nice that the story considers loss from a rather different angle. In their last story together, it's clear that Danny and Clara's feelings for one another run deeply. I rather like the fact that Danny refuses to cooperate once he knows that Clara's willing to die to be with him. Instead, he sacrifices his own happiness in order to save her life. The fact that he can't handle the sadness and the pain that results from his loss and his Cyber-conversion illuminates one reason why the Cybermen might have eliminated their emotions in the first place. Maybe the Mondasians, too, couldn't emotionally cope with their increasing cybernetization? With Danny's final appearance, some dangling questions are finally answered, prime among them the mystery of whom exactly he killed at war: an innocent boy, as it turns out. Since it appears that this is the last we're going to see of Samuel Anderson, I must thank him for a year well-spent, and compliment his delivery of "I love you!", "Hey, listen, listen...", and "You're here this time, at least."

The twelfth Doctor has such a distinctive voice to any of his predecessors, which I really appreciate. I have a difficult time picturing any other Doctors, even 1 and 6, being quite so belligerent about refusing to consider Clara's request, but it feels right for his character; even if he hadn't been aware that the volcano was an illusion, I expect he'd have reacted in exactly the same way. He continues to be stymied by certain basic tenets of human interaction, which is quaintly charming as well as fairly impressive — whether it's due to the scripting or Capaldi's performance, these scenes always come across as believable rather than eye-rollingly improbable. I'm thinking, in this specific case, of the Doctor's confused expression as Clara glumly exits the TARDIS, thinking that the Doctor has just ordered her out of his sight when he meant no such thing. It tickles me that while the Doctor is typically a relatively predictable character — he may bounce around all over the place, but aside from a few notable exceptions, his behavior generally falls within a certain range — the twelfth Doctor still has the ability to surprise me. You can never quite tell what might come out of his mouth, or what his response might be to any given situation, because he's just not as concerned about human feelings, or saving lives at any cost, as most of his predecessors. And it's not just the way he horrifically insults random people; it's also little details like the amount of sugar he takes in his tea, and the way he actually drinks it from the saucer. It's keeping his character really fresh and interesting and idiosyncratic. This is a Doctor who follows his own rules. Capaldi gives a great delivery of "Yeeeeah?", his twitchy reaction as Clara prepares to throw the second key, "Well, there is no immediate hurry.", Capaldi's gangly awkward posture as Missy kisses the Doctor, his perfect delivery of "Cybermen!", the look he gives Missy on the line "Easy if you're a Time Lord." (Those eyebrows!), and the Doctor's anger when the Master turns out to have been lying about Gallifrey is startlingly intense.

I will say, though, that I was disappointed in the Doctor's reaction to Danny's attempt to force his hand. I know that the twelfth Doctor is not one to let emotions stand in the way of what must be done, and I'm more than okay with that, but in this case, he violated his own personal ethical code, and that's a much slipperier slope. If he was dead-set against activating Cyber-Danny's emotional inhibitor, then he should not have done it. Caving to Danny's taunt — that sacrificing him is the only way to get the information the Doctor needs — only makes him look selfish and hypocritical. I wanted him to react to Danny the same way that he reacted to Clara's demands... a firm no, not a sudden look of tortured conscience. Why doesn't he even consider any alternative possibilities? Surely there are other ways to get that information. For example, the other Cybermen are dazed; why not ask them? Or just make an educated guess about Missy's plans? After all, Danny's ultimate answer ("The rain will fall again. All humanity will die [and rise again as Cybermen]. It cannot be stopped.") is barely revealing at all, and turns out to be untrue anyway. I just can't believe that the Doctor would willingly activate Danny's emotional inhibitor as a first resort. And then, after all Danny's accusations, the Doctor just walks away guiltily, without even mustering up a defense. It would have been different if the Doctor could have treated this as a "right to die" situation — if I were in Danny's place, I wouldn't want to suffer either — but the Doctor never considers that angle, nor does Danny make that appeal in an effort to convince him. I suppose this episode doesn't show off either the Doctor or Clara's best side, eh?

As a companion to Michelle Gomez' Master, Chris Addison absolutely breathes life into Seb's dialogue. Any time either of the two of them were onscreen, I couldn't tear my eyes away, so I really really hope that the revelation that Seb was an AI interface means that another version of him can pop up down the line. This man knows how to nail a character down to the tiniest mannerisms (of which Seb has a lot). He's so good at conveying Seb's bureaucratic, pedantic, apologetic, pleasant yet oh-so-slightly catty personality. Addison is one of those actors for whom I could cite every line as a highlight, but I'll limit myself to my top favorites: "Yeah, that, er, last thing that happened to you... that really happened, I'm afraid.", "Well, not life, I suppose, but...", "Right, er, important thing, need to know...", "Would you like to breathe into a bag?", and his attempt to reestablish the connection between Danny and Clara. The only one I question, and I think I blame the script, is "Permission to squeeeeee!"

Kate Stewart has by now cemented herself as a beloved recurring character, so it's delightful to watch her swoop in and immediately take control of the situation, rescuing the Doctor and incapacitating the Master. It's so nice to have a link to the Brigadier in the modern series, and Kate certainly does him proud. You can see glimpses of his no-nonsense attitude but also his sense of humor in Kate, and Jemma Redgrave has a great rapport with Capaldi. Also: did we know that Kate has two kids? That makes me very happy!

I like Osgood so much. There's just something about Ingrid Oliver's performance that's so believable and relatable. So if this is her last episode, it's a great one for Osgood: not only does she rescue the Doctor and help to capture the Master, she demonstrates her intelligence throughout. I got all excited when the Doctor offered her a place on board the TARDIS — I dared to hope that she might be Clara's eventual replacement — so I really should have known that something would happen to her, because something almost always happens to characters if the Doctor offers them companion status against the producers' wishes. Moffat was clearly setting us up for it, because Osgood really shows some major companion potential in this story. Aside from her heroic moments above, she demonstrates an impressive facility for math, she's an analytical quick thinker (figuring out the Master's identity, for example), and she's clearly knowledgeable about a broad range of topics. I'm not sure why Osgood suggests "looking up" (surely people already are looking at the clouds too, not just the graveyards?) but it impresses the Doctor, at least. I could have totally gotten behind the idea of Osgood as a companion. She's the type I've been looking for. She would've been a companion in the mould of Zoe or Nyssa, brainy and sweet, with an added adorably geeky side that neither of them possessed, and she would've been a wonderful role model for encouraging little girls to pursue the STEM fields. Osgood is, in fact, so very capable that I find it extremely difficult to believe that she, of all people, would fall for the old "I have to whisper something in your ear" trick from, of all people, the Master. She's not an idiot!

Dr Chang (Andrew Leung) is so sweet! Like Addison and Oliver, I found Leung's performance to be completely engaging. He imbues Dr Chang with winsome innocence and an infectious enthusiasm — my favorite of his lines being "So! Hey! Condolences!" — making what could be an insensitive character likeable. So of course he had to die too, sigh!

I was keeping my fingers crossed that we'd see Clara's gran again, so Sheila Reid's appearance delighted me. Secretly I was hoping they'd find a way to script her the line "Let's watch some reality television" (which they so could've fit in here... ah well). She's perfect as a comforting presence in Clara's hour of need, and I loved her delivery of "Hello, love. You all right? ...Oh, of course you're not." and her nonjudgmental surprise on "Boring?"

For all that they're under-utilized, the Cybermen do have a menacing presence in the episode, as they break out of morgues, dig themselves out of graves, and overrun the world. There's a definite zombie / vampire vibe to them in this episode that I really like. I also appreciate that they get a couple of new abilities: they can scan people with their chest units, and most dramatically, they can fly. It's startling, but in keeping with what we might expect of them, so I rather like it. On the downside, I'm not such a fan of their new ability to pollinate. As the Doctor puts it, "Every tiny particle of a Cyberman contains the plans to make another Cyberman. All it has to do is to make a contact with compatible living organic matter, and bang, full conversion." This feels a bit unoriginal (although I can't for the life of me place where I've recently seen something similar, so I might have to eat my words), and it raises the question of why they've never used (and aren't using) this ability on the living. Why bother with individual conversions if you could just seed the whole planet with Cyber-pollen? Or is that the eventual plan, as hinted by Cyber-Danny's line "All humanity will die."? (And how do the "blueprints" whip up that much metal from out of thin air?) Hopefully this is just a feature engineered into Missy's version that we won't be seeing again. Besides, Missy's fancy-schmancy Cybermen sure are slow on the draw, especially the ones interrogating Clara. Yeah, Danny takes them by surprise, but not by very much — they've realized he's not under Cyber-control — yet he's able to take down all three of them before even one can get a shot off in return. Together with their habit of shuffling uselessly around cemeteries, and their general lack of aggression, they feel somewhat defanged in this story.

Among this week's references to the past — hearing the cloister bell as Clara destroys the TARDIS keys, the appearance of a classic-series Cyberman head, the references to the Doctor's children and grandchildren (and Jenny), the mention of his four wives (ooh... River, Elizabeth I, and who else?), and Clara namechecking his medical degree from Glasgow — it's especially lovely that the UNIT plane displays a large portrait of Brigadier Lethbridge-Stewart in the conference room. (Sadly, it probably goes down with the plane, which likely does crash into Belgium since the Doctor never lifts a finger to prevent it.) They missed an obvious opportunity for a Logopolis reference, though... Missy laments the fact that the Doctor is, boringly, "just gonna squish... what kind of a way is that to die?" rather than pointing out that this is the second time she's sent him plummeting to his death. I must also express mild disappointment that we never did get a returning classic-series monster this season, sniffle. I want my Wirrn. The bubble wrap from Mummy on the Orient Express just didn't quite scratch the itch for me.

Speaking of Mummy, I note with interest that the mystery of Gus' identity was not resolved in the finale. Presumably, then, he is the new "woman in the shop". I'll be curious to see how his story unfolds. While we're on the topic of thwarted expectations, my biggest unrealized hope for the finale was that the Nethersphere might be a prime opportunity to bring back some old characters... but it was not to be. I mean, in a sense it was, because we got the Master and even the Brigadier back, sort of. But I've been holding out particular hope for an appearance by Janet Fielding since before the season started, and this was my last chance. Not that I'm entirely sorry, because "the afterlife" wouldn't have been my top choice of setting for Tegan's reappearance, but still. It would've been great to see her again. It's about time we had another ex-companion (or five) in the revival.

Effects in this two-parter are generally quite good. My favorites were the shot of the TARDIS on the alien planet, surrounded by glowing red hanging webbed sacks; the stunning interior of the Nethersphere, which is particularly effective in the shot of the "ceiling" hanging above Danny's head; and the forks of electricity subtly firing from a severed Cyber-neck after Danny destroys the trio menacing Clara. The Nethersphere, in particular, is a clever design, because it fools the audience into thinking that it really might be the literal underworld. I also liked the scrolling holo-display in the corridor, the unfolding dome of St Paul's, the water running out of the grate as if sentient, and the very effective visual of Danny's face attached to the Cyber-helmet. I very much appreciate that these Cybermen are far more than just brains in metal bodies, and Danny's skin looks painfully stretched where it attaches to the helmet, which increases their body-horror factor. I only wish they'd left his voice at least partly treated after the faceplate was removed, to imply that his voice was being altered by a mechanical larynx rather than the helmet. I also wish we'd had the opportunity to see some bodies mid-transformation; Danny's conversion, in particular, seems far too quick. Wouldn't it have been more effective (if admittedly more expensive) to have a bunch of half-converted bodies lumbering around, gradually becoming more Cyberman-like over time? So for me, the only less successful effect is the first shot of the Cybermen taking off like rockets. It's acceptable, but slightly unrealistic-looking.

I'm really happy to be able to say, for the first time, that I've actually really enjoyed Murry Gold's scores all season long. There hasn't been a single duff episode this year, and some — notably Time Heist and Mummy on the Orient Express — stand out as being especially memorable. If he keeps this up, I may actually become a fan, which would be awesome. Here, Gold's music ramps up the tension as Clara comes face-to-face with a Cyberman, and I like the operatic music as Clara wakes up in the cemetery, and as the Doctor goes in search of Gallifrey. As for sound effects, I found two to be worthy of mention. First, one I liked: over the babble of voices extracted from the television white noise, there's a rustling sound that reminds me strongly of the Wirrn. (Apparently I have giant space wasps on the brain lately.) Second, one that's a bit misjudged: when the TARDIS materializes in 3W, there's a sound of dripping water that's disconcerting in retrospect, as if the tombs are leaking.

I want so much to love Rachel Talalay's direction, but I find myself torn. On the plus side, I really like the shot of Clara wreathed in smoke (even if the TARDIS keys in her hand are lit in an absurdly bright hot pink), the subtle transition from Danny hyperventilating to the TARDIS materializing, the dissolve from the Nethersphere to the circular window of Seb's office, the nudge-nudge shot of the mirror-image 3W logos on the doors (a clever hint, albeit one I wouldn't have picked up on if not for Murry Gold's "look! an alarming thing!" music. And then I felt dumb... duh, I even knew the Cybermen were gonna be in this story for, like, ever...), the nice panning shot as Clara swivels in her chair to find a Cyberman behind her, the subtle shot of the Doctor piling sugar cubes into his tea (which is slightly ruined by the later close-up, as if we have to have the joke spelled out for us), and the shot of the Doctor starting to slurp tea from his saucer. Talalay makes good use of the cemetery location, in particular the shot of the Cyberman emerging from behind a gravestone, which reminds me of Fenric. I also appreciated the abrupt cut which hints to us that Danny has been hit by a car... although why Clara hears absolutely nothing, I have no idea. No car horns, no screeching brakes, no impact, no phone clattering to the ground, no screams, no pounding feet, no cry of pain from Danny, no police sirens... at least not until we cut back to the woman holding Danny's phone, at which point we learn that there are some very loud sirens that apparently Clara cannot hear. So that shot was rather spoiled by the unrealistic demands of the script.

On the downside, there were a number of shots that were unnecessarily confusing. First: the "CALLING" text on Clara's phone is too small to read, so for my first three viewings, I thought she was ignoring the Doctor's call, rather than waiting for him to pick up. Second: when Clara throws the seventh TARDIS key into the lava, the camera seems to have a hard time tracking its trajectory (which is bizarre, since it was CGIed on after the fact, so perhaps this is more a criticism of the effects team). Third: in the morgue, we're treated to a 2.5-second shot of an inactive sprinkler; we're meant to realize, as the duty guard does, that the sprinkler system did not cause the flood in the room, but it's a confusing shot (I kept expecting it to suddenly activate; and just because the sprinkler isn't working now doesn't mean it wasn't working earlier) that would've been better excised. Fourth: a viscous droplet of water ascends to a morgue door... except the contrast between the droplet and the wall is so faint, and the droplet itself is so small on the screen, you can barely tell it's there. Fifth: a Cyberman dashes across Clara's field of vision, then apparently vanishes into thin air. (Does the girl have no peripheral vision?) Sixth: while we're waiting for the Doctor to skydive onto the TARDIS, we have to sit through a ten-second clip of clouds, which just hover onscreen doing nothing. (As my mother would say — mimicking a hotheaded friend of hers who once got irate at a driver who didn't react quickly enough to a newly-green traffic light — "Well, just sit there, then! Just sit there!") Seventh, and finally: when the Doctor opens the TARDIS door in hopes of seeing Gallifrey, we get 5 seconds of utter blackness. I thought perhaps the camera was going to pan down to Gallifrey, but it was impossible to tell whether or not it was moving because we have no points of reference (no stars, no TARDIS door, etc.).

As usual, I find myself swinging back and forth like a pendulum on my opinion of Moffat's script. Clearly this two-parter has a lot of strengths. Aside from the many positives that I've already mentioned, there are several scenes that showcase exactly why Steven Moffat can be such a good writer. The first act demonstrates Moffat's ability to structure a story; the use of flashbacks to fill in relevant backstory as the plot moves forward is a clever way to boost the mystery and the tension. He gives the plot some thematic depth by incorporating pleasantly subtle parallelism, as minds uploaded to the Nethersphere "data cloud" are then rained back down to Earth via an actual cloud. And he's skilled at translating complicated ideas using relatable analogies, like Seb's rather nice example of babies communicating between wombs as a metaphor for our assumption that our time on Earth is all the life we get.

On the other hand, the script isn't completely free of the Moffat flourishes that have become pet peeves of mine. For starters, when the Cybermen emerge worldwide, one line by Kate, who works for a global organization, could have eliminated the unnecessary RTD-era "infodump by global news" scene, although it's mercifully brief enough that it doesn't really bother me. More irksome is the way the story handles one of its creepy revelations. White noise is one of those features of everyday life that's just crying out to be the basis of a really scary Doctor Who episode. For goodness' sake, television static even has the credentials already: it's commonly used as a source of EVP by paranormal investigators, and it forms the basis of one of the key scary plot points in Poltergeist. In Dark Water, it's briefly suggested that television white noise is actually composed of telepathic messages from the dead... and then the whole idea is forgotten about, and eventually discredited before it even has a chance to develop. Why waste such a great concept on a throwaway plot detail? See, that's what I liked about Flatline: it took an interesting idea with a lot of potential, and it thoroughly explored that idea throughout the episode. Whereas now, "television static" is probably off-limits as a potential monster for future writers. Sad face.

Well, even if I hadn't already known that this was a Steven Moffat episode...

SHUT-UP COUNTER: 10

1 — 6.   (00:03)   Danny: "Clara!"
Clara: "Shut up!"
Danny: "Is that how we communicate now?"
Clara: "Shut up. Shut up. Shut up. I need to talk to you."
Danny: "All right, well, I'll be there in a couple of minutes, so..."
Clara: "No, no, not while you're in the room."
Danny: "Oh, stupid me, the very idea."
Clara: "Shut up! Stay, shut up."
 
7.   (23:48)   Doctor: "You're very, er... realistic."
Clara: "Tongues?"
Doctor: "Shut up."
 
8.   (32:41)   Doctor: "So, an idiot, then?"
Clara: "Shut up, Doctor."
 
9.   (27:57)   Missy: "Ask me."
Doctor: "Shut up!"
 
10.   (52:52)   Doctor: "Gallifrey can be a good place. I can help make it that."
Clara: "What, you?"
Doctor: "Shut up."
 
 
Honorable mentions go to:
 
11.   (03:52)   Doctor: "Am I?"
Kate: "Well, technically."
Doctor: "How much?"
Kate: "Shush."
 
12.   (04:32)   Doctor: (to Kate) "Hush, I'm trying to count."

Can I just say, I'm also getting tired of characters (well, only the Doctor and Clara so far) telling one another to "do as you are told"? It rankled in Listen, and it doesn't rankle any less by dint of its becoming a catchphrase. I sort of understand it coming from the Doctor, because he knows more about the situation, time may be running short, and he's inclined to be patronizing anyhow; in a way, it's the grumpy-Doctor version of "I'll explain later". But it still has an uncomfortable whiff of parental dominance, rather than a meeting of equals, especially when a listening ear would seem to serve the situation better.

I've griped a lot this season (and previously) about some of the choices that Steven Moffat has made as showrunner, and while I stand firmly behind my opinions, I also think it's important for me to clarify that in all other respects, he's doing a splendid job. I'm well aware that he's responsible for some of my favorite moments in other writers' episodes, and for that matter it's thanks to him that episodes like Flatline exist at all. I've also been very impressed with the overall quality of series eight, so I don't want to come across as one of the Moffat-bashers who can't seem to say a single nice word about the man. I had issues with RTD's vision of Doctor Who, and I have issues with Steven Moffat's vision, and I want to hold the showrunner accountable for things I feel can be improved, but I respect them both like crazy and I could never do their job.

Minor points:

So I'm torn. The basic plot idea is really interesting, and the ending is strong, particularly regarding the Doctor's relationships with Clara and the Master. But it's full of holes, it never really goes anywhere, and it's perhaps a bit much for children. Missy is a fascinating way to bring back the Master, but she's likewise underused, and her character is a bit of a tough sell in terms of continuity. The Cybermen are essentially wasted, and their only really effective development threatens to make them too powerful for the good of the series. There are some definite high points, mainly thanks to the guest cast, but on the whole it's an underwhelming season finale.

Back to Dark Water / Death in Heaven.

Back to the episode guide.