Holistic Review: A memorably experimental suspense tale which benefits from its richly layered plot themes and some gorgeous dialogue.
I begin to understand why Space Babies and The Devil's Chord were packaged together into a two-hour premiere: to move us as quickly past snot monsters to this suspenseful tour-de-force as possible. Or, at least, that's what I'm telling myself.
Because the massive leap in quality that is Boom is... shall we say, considerable.
To be honest, I wasn't really sure what to expect. Certainly the premise is great: trapping the Doctor on a hair-trigger landmine for an entire episode is the sort of experimental storytelling that I love to see Doctor Who exploring. But then there was the Steven Moffat factor. On one hand, he was responsible for some of the most memorable standalone stories of RTD era 1. But on the other, as showrunner, he fell into his own rut of tropes that were often just as problematic as RTD's: overcomplicated tangled timey-wimey plots, magical fairytale resolutions, women who were either manic pixie dreamgirls or sultry deadly vixens, saccharine glurge-y emotion, inappropriately ribald humor, and, at times, quite appalling sexism. So I wasn't really sure which Moffat we were going to get this week.
I am hugely relieved to discover that — aside from a dash of the aforementioned saccharine glurge-y emotion — what we have this week is the Moffat of RTD era 1. And oh, is he ever welcome.
I think where I need to start talking about Boom is in its incorporation of themes. I criticized Space Babies for including its moral messages almost as an afterthought, and Boom shows exactly how it should be done. Boom tackles not one but three (related) issues, and weaves them into the very fabric of the story it's telling, which makes the message — and the satire it uses to convey that message — hit home powerfully.
It's hard for me to decide which of these themes to talk about first, because they're all so potent, especially as a United States citizen who perceives Boom as speaking directly to the context in which I live, at a time when we desperately need our politicians and citizens to hear and internalize its messages.
In my personal reading of Boom, the story is a direct critique of, and challenge to, right-wing Republicans and far-right evangelicals, and the skewed values that they're attempting to popularize worldwide. (The fact that the war on Kastarion III is being fought by a religious army — of Anglican marines, which takes us just over the line into allegory — makes this reading not much of a reach.)
The least prominent theme in the story, though no less powerful for it, is the characterization of the Anglican marines as being colonialist.
"Standard procedure" to indicate your friendliness by attacking the natives unprovoked. It's such a macho cowboy tactic, to assert your dominance by showing off your weaponry. And it assumes, of course, that you, the invader, have the right to hurt whomever you want and claim whatever you want, because the territory is yours for the taking: a colonialist mindset.
Whereas the colonialist theme only really surfaces (explicitly) in that single exchange, the notion of war being fomented and monetized by unregulated capitalism runs throughout the entire script. Much like Oxygen imagined a future in which capitalism would kill off space-station workers who couldn't earn their air, Boom postulates a capitalistic future in which defense companies manufacture war simply to keep themselves in business, without regard for the cost of human lives — nay, with regard for the cost, because these companies require and thus encourage a certain amount of loss of life to guarantee their continued business. War as a moneymaking scheme. It's simply horrific and, one imagines, at most a small step away from the way unscrupulous defense contractors operate today.
Doctor: "Flashy lights play well in a showroom. Modern warfare: death by salesman."
The most obvious manifestation of this inhumane perspective on the value of human life are the ambulances. Carson's explanation for why the ambulances are malfunctioning (and inadvertently killing people rather than healing them) is that "they ran out of money" to upgrade the algorithm. This would be evidence enough of unregulated capitalism, but we later learn that the ambulances are functioning exactly as intended. They aren't really there to heal anyone, but rather to ensure that an adequate number of combatants is killed in order to keep the war (and thus Villengard) funded. Thus, an ambulance hunts down Vater, who's coping with a temporary visual impairment:
Later, we learn how Villengard covers their tracks, through euphemism and spin to make their murderous self-serving actions seem philanthropic:
There aren't even words for how unfathomably evil this is.
The Doctor also criticizes Villengard for "suppl[ying weapons to] all sides in all conflicts for the past two centuries in this sector" and guess who else has been known to do that? 'Murica!
Which brings us to "thoughts and prayers", that meaningless sentiment which substitutes for taking any concrete (but politically unpopular) actions that might actually avert future tragedy, most often associated with the subpar state of US gun laws. Boom skewers it brilliantly, by putting that very phrase into the mouths of the automated ambulances, right before they kill you.
The phrase "thoughts and prayers", of course, holds overt religious connotations, and in the US, of course, it's most often deployed by evangelicals: Christian (typically Republican) politicians and pastors. Who are, perversely and unexpectedly, the most ardent supporters of concealed-carry firearms and solving school shootings by giving more guns to more teachers. So it's no surprise that Boom doesn't stop at implied criticism, but goes straight for the jugular in attacking unexamined and unquestioned faith:
I mean, this jab covers a lot of territory, from Christian support of gun culture, to rape culture and sexual abuse in the church, to homophobia, to racism... all those societal ills that so many Christians refuse to examine because they believe their faith dictates that Black Lives Matter is socialism, and gay people are going to hell, and women should be subservient to their husbands at all times, and guns... well, I don't actually know what the church's defense is for guns, except for the Second Amendment (which is clearly not biblical).
Those issues get a brief nod when the Ambulance scans Ruby and declares, "Patient non-ordained. Treatment withheld." Canto later confirms that "It could revive her, but it's not programmed to assist non-believers." Thanks to my own cultural background, this feels to me like a pointed critique of the way some modern Christians demonize people from other faith backgrounds, but it might also be a comment on the church's treatment of LGBTQ+ people in particular, given that this prejudice sometimes takes the form of discrimination in healthcare settings. A truly Christ-like ambulance would provide medical care to everyone, regardless of faith (or other) background.
And then we have this riposte:
Suffice it to say, on more than one occasion, Boom made me wince and go "Ooooohhhhh." Many elegant points, well made.
I appreciate, therefore, that the Doctor shows a bit of a softer side at the episode's end, and maybe wins back some of those faith-based viewers who didn't switch off in a huff!
And so I must praise Steven Moffat for what is truly an excellent script, very quotable and very poignant.
In truth, my only real criticism of Boom is its ending, which just about works logically, but — for me, anyway — tips slightly over the line into classic Moffat glurge. The Doctor appealing to the AI's paternal feelings is a bit cheesy, and his whole "parent power" speech veers a bit too close to the The Doctor, the Widow, and the Wardrobe for my liking. (Not to mention the closing scene, in which the Doctor waxes dramatically poetic, and AI-Vater waves goodbye to the TARDIS crew before watching the sunrise with his daughter, as a lone snowflake drifts toward the camera.) But even if you can abide the emotional heartstring-tugging, I'm not entirely convinced that one AI would be able to infiltrate and deactivate the entire Villengard algorithm. And then, of course, just when it looks like the Doctor's plans have failed and the landmine is going to explode regardless, suddenly everything is fine and the countdown is magically averted. We, like Mundy, are taking a lot on faith here.
But it's easier to excuse those late-in-the-game hiccups because Boom has built a lot of goodwill through the quality of the script, which is otherwise so high, and because Boom successfully experiments with a genre that Doctor Who rarely attempts: suspense.
I was impressed that, not 90 seconds in, Moffat had already given us not one but three things to be scared of: the migrating minefield, monsters hidden in the fog, and the malfunctioning ambulances. Though the Kastarions turn out to be a red herring, the other two potential dangers both pay dividends. (And toward the end, Moffat adds a fourth: if you step on a mine and it doesn't blow right away, you're still dead, because its timer will eventually cause it to explode regardless.)
Likewise, before the teaser is over, we're already invested in the story's two main relationships: Vater and his daughter Splice, and Mundy and Canto. (And thanks a lot, Moffat, for breaking our hearts on both counts. See if we ask him back again. ...wait, what's that about the Christmas special? Drat!)
But the backbone of the episode — the situation around which everything else turns — is the Doctor's self-enforced paralysis after treading on a delicate landmine which could, if he's not very careful, explode at any moment. What we have here, I soon realized, is the very tense landmine scene from Genesis of the Daleks, reworked and expanded to fill an entire episode. And the gimmick at its heart is, I think, a pretty brilliant idea: what if the Doctor couldn't run, or even move a muscle, for an entire story? Trapped on one single spot, the Doctor can't even pull out his sonic screwdriver to get himself out of this pickle that could potentially destroy half the planet; he's reliant on his wits and his words (and help from Ruby and others) to survive. It literally wrong-foots the Doctor, and watching him think his way out of the situation makes for a novel story format.
Following five RTD-penned episodes in a row, Moffat's writing style is immediately distinctive — in fact, I'd forgotten just what a strong voice his scripts have! — and brings out a whole new side to the fifteenth Doctor and Ruby.
For Gatwa, in particular, Boom represents a noteworthy shift. Much like Pyramids of Mars and its ilk gave Tom Baker the opportunity to play a more brooding version of the normally-exuberant fourth Doctor, Boom pares back the fifteenth Doctor's irrepressible enthusiasm to showcase his quiet, centered, emotional side. Within those bounds, Moffat's oh-so-Doctorish dialogue gives Gatwa many opportunities to shine, which I'm going to have to list in dialogue format rather than paragraph format, because these lines are so well scripted that they deserve to be spotlighted:
Doctor: "Oh, give it time. Everywhere's a beach eventually."
Doctor: "I think there's a gap. Hoping for quite a big one."
Doctor: "Okay. Well, that's, erm, that's better than two fingers, for instance."
Doctor: "Oh Ruby, I'm sorry, I forgot. Your first time on a new planet. It flips the stomach, doesn't it?"
Doctor: "Great name, Mundy Flynn. You should marry Ruby, then you'd be Mundy Sunday."
Other brilliant deliveries include: "In the middle of a war.", "I don't think Mundy's figured it out.", the way his expression suddenly flickers from joy to terror on "Count of three?", and my favorite of the story: "Can you write a diary in drums? I bet I could." And he gets to sing The Skye Boat Song — not its first appearance in Doctor Who, after the Doctor and the Master played it on the recorder in The Web of Fear and The Power of the Doctor, respectively. The shot of Ruby listening to his voice echoing over the battlefield is gorgeous.
I admit, this line did briefly make me worry that we were about to have the Doctor running away and/or giving up in defeat three episodes in a row, which would've been such a bad look, until it becomes clear why he's recommending it:
Ruby, meanwhile, is much less giddy in this story, which is exactly how I've been needing to see her. I'm still waiting for That One Scene that'll win me over, but this story has made me enjoy her as a character much more. And Ruby does get one exceptionally good scene here, proving her standard companion mettle when she insists on endangering her own life because it improves her odds of saving the Doctor's:
And as it turns out, Ruby was absolutely right to insist: if that landmine had blown, Ruby would've been dead even if she'd been standing outside the crater.
In general, Ruby comes off as supremely capable this week: she thinks on her feet to distract the ambulance with nearby combat, and she reacts to the revelation that she's been casually holding onto a compressed human corpse with remarkable calm! It's rather a shame that Ruby gets written out of the story 27 minutes in, because it was shaping up to be a really good one for her character. We also get one more tiny hint about her backstory, when Ruby hopes (in vain) that the ambulance is going to find her next of kin, and then mystical snow starts falling. Loved Gibson's delivery of "It's not a beach!", "No argument, Doctor. Blood pressure.", "I need something more rhythmic, I need a beat." (a nice callback to her musical talent), "Okay. Okay. I think that's it.", and her little gasp when the Doctor says "Boom!"
I am deeply ashamed to admit that I didn't realize Mundy Flynn was played by our own Varada Sethu — the new companion actress, joining Millie Gibson for season 2, about whom I have been VERY EXCITED — until after the episode had aired. And (owing to my desperately trying to finish up at least a first draft of my Devil's Chord review before watching Boom, which delayed me starting it) I'd even stumbled upon a couple of articles and tweets teasing something about a shock casting twist before I watched the episode, yet still the penny never dropped!
In all honesty, I hope we have an Adeola situation here. As much as I enjoyed Varada's performance, Mundy doesn't strike me as a particularly fun character — though, I mean, she's a religious soldier in the middle of a horrific war; who's going to be fun under those circumstances? — and so I wasn't particularly eager to spend more time in her company. My hope is that they'll bring Varada back to play a completely different character, because in interviews she has a delightful playful cheekiness which I'd love to see more of onscreen. But as Mundy, she gives a particularly great performance on "Well, that's what we think.", "You could blow up half of this planet!" and "There's no point.", and I love the scene between her and Ruby, as she talks Ruby into shooting her, until Canto misunderstands the situation and (quite shockingly) shoots Ruby first. Frankly, it's amazing that this doesn't make the Doctor's bomb blow.
I'm also the tiniest bit unconvinced that Splice (Caoilinn Springall) needed to be a main character. One or two shots of her over Vater's commlink would've been sufficient, because her main role in the story seems to be yet more Fatherhood Glurge: she provides a physical link to help us feel empathy for Vater's fate, and in fulfilling that function, she's required to talk about "my daddy" about as often as Vilma wailed for Benni. (I counted 17 times in 14 out of her 30 lines; that's 47% of her dialogue!) It gets a bit old, though not through any fault of Springall's; she gets some great deliveries when she's allowed to talk about other things than Daddy (ie, "He's not joking.").
Joe Anderson radiates a calm serenity as John Francis Vater, even as he stares down his own imminent death. His AI-self is naturally rather emotionally restrained, but I thought his performance was great all around.
Toward the end of the story, Bhav Joshi gets some moments to truly shine as Canterbury "Canto" James Olliphant, a fellow marine who's nursing what appears to be an unrequited crush on Mundy. Except it turns out not to be unrequited, in this scene that's both heartwarming and hilarious:
Naturally, moments after this meeting of the hearts, Moffat lowers the axe and kills off the romance in its cradle. Ohhh how my heart sank as I realized immediately that Canto was dead, just as their relationship was starting to bloom. Cruel Moffat! And then he goes and twists the knife over and over again!
As Carson, Majid Mehdizadeh-Valoujerdy is only in the story's opening scene, but his frightened wide-eyed stare does a lot to help sell the terror of the battlefield that he and Vater find themselves picking their way across.
Delightfully, it appears that our covert appearances by Susan Twist are going to become a weekly tradition, and here she's fantastic as the dispassionate AI Ambulance. And this week, for once, I'm pleased to say I twigged her immediately.
This has been percolating in the back of my mind for a while, but a recent Facebook poster (Jérémie Latendresse) made me consciously ponder that RTD is really cueing up a lot of unsolved arc mysteries:
Could these possibly all tie into one coherent picture, or will the answers be dosed out to us across this season and the next? My money, and my hopes, are on the latter.
Mind you, with the return of the Moff comes the return of the...
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I find Murray Gold's music to be pleasantly understated this week, but my favorite moment is the return of the mysterious theme as snow begins to fall in the crater.
Boom appears to be an effects-heavy episode, and the money is well spent. For one thing, the LED screen used to provide the celestial backdrop is absolutely stunning. I love the shot of the vacuum drones whooshing across the landscape to reveal the stellar view behind the dust cloud, with a greenish ringed planet and its moons hanging in the sky, glowing with a rainbow sheen from the light of the nearby sun. As for the battlefield itself, I'm not sure how much of the landscape is practical and how much is CGI, but it looks amazing, with fires flickering in the distance beneath rusted hulks of metal. And the rubble-strewn crater, which was built for the episode, is visually impressive, with a couple of gravelly slopes for characters to traverse and a set of stepped rocks on the steep side, illuminated with golden glimmers by small fires and a blazing wreck at the far end.
We have two similar execution effects, both involving glowing blue lights that illuminate people from the inside: the smelting effect, from the ambulances, seems to light up its victim's bones, whereas the landmine immolation effect flows through their veins before consuming them in blue fire. Both quite effective! And the VHS-style AI projection effect looks as good as always.
Julie Anne Robinson is given a dream of an episode to direct, and she does a superb job of it. Her directorial flair is unquestionably a big part of what generates so much tension in the story. The crater alone presents loads of possibilities for interesting camera angles, and Robinson utilizes both overhead shots looking into the crater, and low shots angled up to its edge. There are lots of dramatic close-ups, especially on the Doctor (and the landmine display) as he struggles not to trigger an explosion, and she employs a good amount of handheld camerawork during scenes of tension. I might've wished for a few more creative framing shots using all that standing rubble, but all in all, she really maximizes the limited amount of space on the set.
This week I was back home, and chose to accompany Boom with a mug of tea and a box of M&S walnut whips, which I don't think I've ever had before! (A bit too sweet for me, shockingly, but I devoured them anyway; much like the ending to this story.)
Minor points:
Doctor: "Everything's fine."
Ruby: "Who said it wasn't?"
Doctor: "Can you check and see if anyone needs help?"
Ruby: "You need help."
Doctor: "I'm not even screaming! Yet. Priorities."
Doctor: "It's vacuum drones, that's all. Hoovering up the smoke so that nobody can choke to death before they are safely shot."
Doctor: "It's a good word, smelted, isn't it?"
Ruby: (holding onto a smelted human corpse) "Not at the moment!"
Doctor: "Okay, yeah, that's about the right weight."
Ruby: "About?!"
Doctor: "Okay, it's exactly 6.732217 kilograms. I was trying not to show off."
Ruby: "It's still moving."
Doctor: "Maybe don't keep mentioning that."
Ruby: "What's an Anglican marine? Since when was the church an army?"
Doctor: "Since most of your history. You've been living in a blip."
Doctor: "I've met sentient mud, lovely girls. I mean, grumpy, yeah, but you try lying around with your face full of mammals all day."
Canto: "If anything happens to me, I want you to know that... I love you. And honestly, it's okay that you don't love me back."
Ruby: "No, hang on, we've had like two minutes of the awesome!"
Doctor: "A sad old man once told me, what survives of us is love."
It sounds like a badly-timed joke to see that Boom puts series 1 / 14 / 40 back on solid footing, and yet it does. I suppose I should probably be faulting it for being yet another story without a really strong plot — again, it's more of a voyage of discovery, as the Doctor tries to figure out how to defuse the landmine while the action continually comes to him — but in this case, that limitation is leveraged into an inventive strength, thanks to a quotable script that uses its storytelling gimmick to foreground the Doctor's intelligence.
| posted: | 01 June 2024 |