The Girl Who Died / The Woman Who Lived
review


Holistic Review: Examining the effect that the Doctor has on the people around him isn't the most original idea, but this quiet, contemplative two-parter approaches the material from an interesting angle, and the first half has a particularly good blend of character, humor and action.


First off, can I just say how grateful I am that this story did turn out to be a two-parter? I'd been terribly worried that The Girl Who Died might not end on an official "To Be Continued" cliffhanger, and I'd have to fret about whether or not to split up my review. So, yay! Both of these episodes aired while I was still travelling nonstop around Sri Lanka, you see, and the day after I returned — by a very happy whim of fate — my cousin Gray arrived for one of his biannual two-week work visits. To my great surprise and relief, Gray hadn't been able to watch these episodes yet either, so that worked out really well! Visiting with him in the evenings, of course, meant that I had less time to devote to finishing my review of the last two-parter, so we didn't even get a chance to watch these two episodes until Halloween. (This story is a long way from typical Halloween fare, but if it's a choice between a haunted-house film or new Doctor Who, I know which one I'm picking, and so does Gray. Anyway, we squeezed in a haunted-house film the day after.) One longer review is definitely quicker to write than two shorter reviews, so treating this story as a two-parter really helps my chances of getting caught up before Gray leaves.

I can only assume that these stories were originally announced as separate episodes in order to preserve the surprise of Ashildr's storyline continuing in the second half. To which I can only say: if you wanted that to work, then part two should have been given a different title. I was always suspicious that these two parts had to be linked somehow, although I admit that the presence of two different authors did throw me off. Outside of the Trial, have we ever had a story in which the episodes were divided among more than one author? (The Mind Robber maybe? but that was unofficially.) Now I'm also wondering, are we going to have an entire season of two-parters? I rather like that idea! The only individual episodes remaining are Sleep No More and Face the Raven, which appear to have separate cast lists, but after this little trick, I'm not ruling anything out...

These two episodes are indeed quite linked, both by characters (mainly Ashildr) and themes. They're quite different in setting and, to some extent, tone, but they do feel like a single storyline. Between the two, I found myself — to no surprise — favoring Jamie Mathieson's opening episode, even though I'm not one of those people who finds Vikings automatically fascinating. (My reaction is much more like the Doctor's: "No, no, not Vikings. I'm not in the mood for Vikings.") There's a sweetness that permeates the entire episode, mainly I think due to the fact that all of the aggressive warriors are vaporized, leaving only the kindhearted common people behind to band together and defend their beloved village as best they can. The Girl Who Died strikes a pleasant balance: it's mostly a lighthearted, tender story, with dialogue full of genuinely funny jokes, but there are some tense scenes as well. Everything that takes place onboard the Mire ship is gripping, from the first Viking death (in a creative way that reminded me of Cube and a bit of The Darkest Hour, which Gray and I had just watched a few days before) to the moving wall forcing everyone into the killing chute. It's a surprisingly effective way to structure an episode, because after spending so much time with the villagers, witnessing their genuine warmth and love for one another, the Mire threat looming in the background heightens our awareness of what will be lost if they succeed in wiping the village out.

The main plot problem in Mathieson's episode, of course, is the inclusion of electric eels, which power the villagers' anti-Mire weapons and the magnets that disable and disarm the Mire soldiers. It's not that it's a bad plot point, exactly. It's a little cheesy, and it stretches credulity that the eels could pack that much wallop and produce it on demand, but it's a clever use of local resources... or, at least, it would be, if electric eels were native to Scandinavia, which they are not. Unfortunately, this is not a minor detail, but rather a crucial plot point on which the Doctor's entire plan hinges. I find I can just about suspend my disbelief, especially if I accept the theory that somehow this village received a mating pair of electric eels through a Viking trade agreement with the New World, but it does require a whole lot of disbelief-suspension. I'd be willing to bet good money that the eels were one of Moffat's contributions to the plot, because on the evidence of Jamie Mathieson's tightly-plotted previous episodes, I find it difficult to believe that he would have proposed such a historically-inaccurate solution. (And now I must apologize to Steven Moffat, because it turns out this idea was in fact Mathieson's!) That said, I thought the rest of the plan — feeding false images into the Mire helmets, so that they flee in terror from what's essentially a pantomime horse, while the whole débacle is recorded for later blackmailing — was absolutely brilliant. As the Doctor says, "Even I believed the stories, but after today, no-one will again. An army like yours, it lives or dies on its reputation." The clip of the fearsome Mire retreating from a harmless wooden longboat prow, set to Benny Hill music, is so utterly hilarious that I wish it had been slightly longer, but then the brief glimpse is probably partly what makes it so funny.

Catherine Tregenna's second half suffers a bit from uneven tone. At times, The Woman Who Lived feels like a comedy, but outside of the gallows scene, it's not very comedic. Instead it's a rather light, breezy story about how Ashildr's emotions have deadened over the years — hence the jarring tone — crossed with a bit of buddy-comedy caper film. It would help a lot, I think, if there were more of an emotional hook, but while we pity Ashildr for all she's suffered, we never really feel for her. Still, I'm thrilled that the series has finally welcomed another female writer into the fold, especially one who wrote two of my favorite Torchwood episodes. It's been far too long since Helen Raynor's episodes, and it's so important to have female voices represented on the show, particularly since female regulars are a staple of the series.

Both episodes are quickly-paced, snappily written, and fun. Their common downside, although I'm not sure I really want to call it that, is that they're also fairly light on plot. In The Girl Who Died, the majority of the episode is devoted to the Doctor treading water while he tries to figure out how they'll eventually defeat the Mire, whereas The Woman Who Lived spends ages with the Doctor and Ashildr simply trying to track down and abscond with an alien amulet. But what this means is that there's more time to explore the characters, and both episodes take advantage of the opportunity to examine, in particular, Ashildr and the Doctor. Woven through this pair of episodes is a handful of prominent themes, which are admittedly variable in their successfulness.

With all of these themes whirling around the same plotline, it feels as if the story is trying to say something profound about the Doctor. It doesn't really succeed, mainly because the majority of these points have been raised in previous episodes, not to mention practically the entirety of Torchwood, but I don't think it's bad to have them reiterated, because there aren't very many TV shows where these themes can be raised. And there are interesting questions to be asked regarding what happens when the Doctor, with all the best intentions, does irreversibly alter the course of time, and whether the Doctor regrets not having an equally long-lived companion with which to share his travels. Maybe that's why he and River bonded so tightly, although on the flipside, he wasn't exactly clamoring to keep Jack on board. But perhaps it's time to try out another Time Lady in the TARDIS?

As the episode's main, and indeed pivotal, guest star, Maisie Williams as Ashildr is the story's backbone; in fact, the second episode is practically a two-hander between her and Capaldi. In part 1, her character is somewhat peripheral to events prior to the climactic battle scene, but this is where we learn pretty much everything about her personality. She comes across as more innocent and childlike, somewhat of a hothead, apparently a bit of a tomboy with a storyteller's imagination, and deeply fond of her village ("They're kind and brave and strong, and I love them.") to the point that "leaving this place would be death itself." Very little of this characterization carries over into the following episode, although her involvement in the plot and her dialogue, and thus Williams' performance, are all more interesting in part 2. Now that Ashildr's been around long enough to have some adventures, and enough life experience to harden her heart, the character is much more worldly and witty and tragic, and Williams' performance delineates the distinct versions of Ashildr very well. Immortal Ashildr — calling herself simply "Me" — has lived so long, and suffered so much, that she's nearly forgotten her village and her former loved ones entirely, and her humanity has been worn down. (As the Doctor puts it, "I didn't think that your conscience would need renewing, that the well of human kindness would run dry.") She seems to have lost the ability to be empathetic, and joyful, although she doesn't seem unhappy. As is often the case with terminally-bored immortal characters, she's even taken to a spot of petty theft to liven things up (and I sure am glad that Gray and I didn't watch the trailer for part 2, so we remained unspoiled on that particular plot point; it certainly took me by surprise!) The season 9 promo, featuring her line "What took you so long, old man?", had fans in a tizzy and throwing out all kinds of guesses as to the character's identity, but she turns out to be neither the Rani nor Susan, which I think is for the best. As promised, she is indeed a character who challenges the Doctor in ways he's rarely been challenged before, but that's mainly due to the direct effect the Doctor's had on her life, rather than any inherent character trait. Because we only see Ashildr so briefly, and in two very different life stages, it's a bit difficult to form an opinion of her character, so her personality change doesn't necessarily feel like a logical outgrowth of who she once was. There's a hint that Ashildr's altered personality might also have something to do with the tiny bit of Mire DNA in her system, but The Woman Who Lived never addresses this point, so it's difficult to say for sure. I actually prefer to think that her entire personality change, from childlike to jaded to caring again, is purely a result of the life she's led as an immortal human woman, because then at least it's her own choice rather than an alien influence, especially since she wasn't given a choice about her immortality. It's probably for that very reason that Ashildr never finds anyone — even her husband(s?) — with whom she wants to share her spare immortality charge, although it was sweet of the Doctor to provide one for her. Given that she doesn't want to inflict immortality on anyone else, but she wants to avoid the pain of any more loss, distancing herself from people and enduring her lifespan alone probably seemed like the only viable option. I'm curious now to see whether Ashildr (with or without Swift? although I'm hoping for "with") reappears later in the season. After all, now that she's rediscovered her humanity, I really really like her stated mission "to look out for the people you abandon." The idea's not an entirely new one — we've seen, for example, Earthbound companion reunions in the Doctor Who fictional universe — but there's never been a canonical figure (other than perhaps UNIT) who went around mopping up some of the mess the Doctor leaves behind. It's a nice way for Ashildr to channel her own feelings of abandonment, and all that free time, into something positive. My favorite of Williams' deliveries all come during the second episode: "Course! You don't forget the man who saved your life. It's good to see you.", "If you say so.", and "I don't think I want anyone to be." And I like her fancy red dress.

There are, however, some hints dropped about her character that are never answered. I'm not sure whether this makes her seem intentionally or frustratingly mysterious, or if they're leaving these plot threads dangling to be picked up at a later stage...

This story is a really great example of how the Doctor's character can still be developed, even after 52 years. I find it interesting that the Doctor feels he has the power to do anything he likes, but prevents himself from doing so because he understands what the negative consequences would be. It makes him seem that much more ethical — how many people would be able to resist the lure of absolute power? — and loveable for it. And, apparently with Clara's prompting (although I think he'd do this anyway), he's beginning to think laterally to find ways around what appear to be immutable events. Is this a good thing? I'm not entirely sure — it could run the risk of diminishing the impact of those events, and make the Doctor too powerful — but the way it's being done so far, it emphasizes the Doctor's wits over his might, and it does provide some unexpected plot twists. It also helps, I think, that the Doctor has his priorities straight, and isn't tempted by the lure of power. At first I was dubious that the Doctor really meant it when he said "I don't mean the war. I'll lose any war you like." — after all, he's just spent an entire episode trying to win against the Mire — but then I realized, he's right, he doesn't care about winning battles, he cares about saving lives. Winning a battle is only a means to the specific end of banishing evil and defeating murderers and conquerors. This ties in really well to the Doctor's realization of why he subconsciously chose this face for his twelfth incarnation. I absolutely adore this revelation, and not just because it gives us a brief clip of Catherine Tate being awesome. (Speaking of, how cool is it that Big Finish is going to start doing some tenth Doctor and Donna audio plays??? I am so there, as is my money.) I actually started to tear up when we learned that the Doctor subconsciously chose this face as a reminder of Donna's plea for him to save people. Even though there's no apparent reason why the twelfth Doctor in particular should need such a reminder, it's just such a lovely significance for this incarnation to have. It also connects to the heart of what makes the Doctor the man he is, and I always love to see a series reiterate its primary tenets. It can be risky for a show to veer too far away from what makes it successful, and at times, the Doctor's characterization as an avenging angel has approached that line. I find that, even with his bristly personality, Capaldi's Doctor is hewing much more closely than his more cuddly predecessors to the kind of character that I like the Doctor to be. (It's also interesting to learn that the Doctor can subconsciously choose his appearance — and yet there's precedent for it, when Romana decided she liked Princess Astra's face. Makes you wonder, doesn't it, why the sixth Doctor subconsciously patterned himself on Maxil the shooty guard?) Great delivery of "Uhh?" as he wipes sprite-guts off his shoe, his Kroagnon-esque enunciation of "I have taken human form to walk among you.", his reaction when the Doctor sees Clara raising her hand, "No." when Chuckles asks if the Doctor is going to mock his crying, "Don't thank me yet, Ashildr. Not yet.", and "Sorry, were you talking to me there? Try again, I promise that I'll listen this time."

Clara is all but absent from The Woman Who Lived, to make room for Ashildr's character development, but that's fine; The Girl Who Died includes some really great moments for her. She's fairly sidelined toward the end of the episode, but she carries the plot while she's separated from the Doctor, which is apparently enough to keep me happy! I'm coming to the conclusion that Jamie Mathieson writes some of the best material for Clara out of all the writers. He not only nails her character, he also finds ways to make her proactive and intelligent without being precocious or magically intuitive. It's a really fine line, but he always manages to hit just the right side of it. Her scene facing down Odin, and very nearly talking him out of attacking the Viking village, surely must be one of her finest moments. In a completely unrelated issue, Clara's rumored bisexuality has been a topic of some fan discussion lately, and will surely not be quelled by lines like "She's nice! Fight you for her." although since we have no actual evidence (aside from Oswin's 'phase' with Nina), I'm not sure whether or not to take her seriously. Nice delivery of "Oh, hello!", "The universe is full of testosterone. Trust me, it's unbearable.", "No you don't! Because I never asked for that.", "See, that was really funny!", "You didn't lose. You saved the town.", the sweet hug that she and the Doctor share, and the cute look she gives the Doctor before pulling the dematerialization lever.

As a warrior race, the Mire have definite potential, even if their appearance here is fairly brief. We get a general sense of their goals — they want to conquer, and they want to devour the best of the opposing group's warriors, which is both gruesome and a sound strategic move — but we don't quite yet get a sense of what separates them from all the other warlike races of the galaxy. Unless their medical technology does indeed make them functionally immortal as well, which sounds bad, and like the sort of thing that the Time Lords would have nipped in the bud if they were still around. There are hints that they puff up their fearsome reputation through stories and technological tricks — like their projection of Odin, and the reveal that their spaceship is actually kind of small — which makes the Doctor's plan to defeat them that much more fitting. Their name might also be a clue to some kind of unique ability or nature, although I'm not sure I understand the significance — what's the link between mucky quicksand and lamprey-mouthed aliens? Speaking of which, I'm really glad that they do turn out to be aliens in armour, rather than robots (as I first assumed). Aliens, for whatever reason, are nearly always more interesting in my book. So even though they're not the most developed monsters, we learn enough about the Mire and their culture to make them an interesting one-off menace.

What a shame that Brian Blessed wasn't able to accept the role of Odin! He would've been an absolutely perfect fit, although I probably would've been waiting for the Doctor to rush up to him and demand an update on Peri's well-being. David Schofield certainly fills his shoes well, especially during the scene with Clara, and I loved his dramatic delivery of "Your mightiest warriors will feast with me tonight in the halls of Valhalla!"

I adore the Doctor's decision to give all the Vikings nicknames, which is perfectly in keeping both with his lack of interpersonal skills, and Mathieson's flair for comedic dialogue. Of the lot, my favorite names are Daphne and the very appropriate Heidi, but in terms of characters, Lofty (Tom Stourton) and Heidi (Barnaby Kay) stand out the most. Lofty seems like a sweetheart, a doting dad who's devoted to his baby daughter, and is willing if nervous to fight to defend her. Heidi gets the most amusing personality traits, his fear of heights and his tendency to faint at the sight (and eventually the mere mention) of blood. Clara's weary description of the resulting chaos after one such blackout is a really funny moment. Ian Conningham is good too as Chuckles, particularly during his tender scenes with Maisie Williams. One of my favorite characters is the late-blooming Sam Swift (Rufus Hound), who comes across as little more than a bully in his first scene, but becomes a really likeable, humanized character when threatened with execution. Despite the fact that some of his jokes are old and tired today (and probably were then too!), his gallows humor is absolutely hilarious, and I love that the Doctor joins right in. His zeal for life shines through his melancholy musings from the gallows, and when the Doctor manages to pardon him, the shock and relief on his face is quite moving. Hound has so many delightful line deliveries, my favorites being "Ooooooh!", "You what?", and his reaction when Ashildr kicks the gun out of his hand. I also really liked the two comedy pikemen, Gruffudd Glyn as Lloyd Llywelyn and Reuben Johnson as the slightly clumsy William Stout.

In the grand tradition of Aliens Who Look Like Earth Animals, now we add the leonine race of Delta Leonians, who have glowing eyes and breathe fire, which does make a dramatic change from Earth lions. Leandro makes for an interesting if underdeveloped monster, and Ariyon Bakare delivers a good snarly performance. I also liked the echoey quality of Leandro's scream as his people disintegrate him from afar.

Leandro's facial prosthetic looks very convincing, particularly the feline nose and mouth, and I was even more fond of the effective facial prosthetics for the Mire, with many rows of horrid teeth. (When Odin first started to remove his mask, I caught a glimpse of what looked like Jagaroth skin, and had to calm myself down!) The Mire are well-designed in general, too, as their technology all looks like it originated from the same source. (I'm thinking particularly of Odin's eyepatch and the soldiers' helmets.) The effects work is of a high calibre: the lovely shot of Clara floating in space, surrounded by stars and nebulae; the gorgeous time-lapse scene of the years passing around Ashildr; the amulet draining the lifeforce out of Swift; and the portal opening up in the sky. The only slightly disappointing effect is the spaceship weapons fire, which from a distance looks like the blasts will be enormous, but results in comparatively tiny explosions on impact.

Murray Gold contributes some lovely music to this two-parter, notably as the Viking raiding party returns to the village, and the haunting score over the time-lapse shot. However, there's also some really corny comedy music as the Doctor and Ashildr tiptoe through the Fanshaw residence, and to my annoyance, the score announces "joke ahead!" before the punchline about Lady Me's fortune.

While I enjoyed Ed Bazalgette's direction of both episodes, I can't say that it really jumped out at me. The best shots come in part two: moonlight streaming through the tree branches, and the reveal of Leandro with his eyes blazing. However, in the same episode, he also includes one really bizarre, jarring moment of multiple unnecessary cuts as the Doctor says "see if we can't go round the back." What really makes the episodes visually memorable are the gorgeous filming locations. Cosmeston Medieval Village in the Vale of Glamorgan is a totally convincing stand-in for a Viking village, and Tredegar House in Newport is a beautiful, imposing, echoey place for Ashildr to live. I especially love the interior library set — if it is a set — with its shelves full of handwritten journals.

But I have to end on a downer, because I think this issue is important enough to warrant highlighting. I cannot even put into words how deeply disappointed I am that the electric guitar has disappeared from the theme music. How could they tease us with a massive upgrade to the theme tune, and then take it away again? Seriously, people. The electric guitar needs to be reinstated right now.

Minor points:

Although the plot of these episodes is sometimes slow, and it's not the most original story, it's entertaining and well-told, with some really enjoyable character moments. So far it feels like this entire season is laying down really subtle groundwork for some future storyline, but I just can't predict where it's going, so my curiosity is definitely piqued...


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