Holistic Review: Doctor Who spoofing Bridgerton is an inherently fun idea, and there are several great ideas at the story's heart, but ultimately none of them feel well thought-out.
I started watching Bridgerton after season 1 was released on Netflix, and I remember thinking at the time that while I liked it, I didn't quite get it; I'd been expecting a more dramatic modern-day twist to the storylines, not little more than brand-new Jane Austen fanfiction. And so I didn't pick it back up for a while until, with Rogue looming, I figured I really ought to get caught up. And the second time through, with full awareness that I was signing up for Jane Austen fanfiction whose sole other purpose, really, was the extremely laudable goal of exploring a more racially diverse Regency era (thus providing non-white actors access to the entire range of available characters, up to and including the Queen), I have thoroughly enjoyed it. As of the Wednesday before Rogue aired, I'm fully caught up on the first two-and-a-half seasons of Bridgerton as well as Queen Charlotte.
And oh my goodness, does Rogue ever have fun playing with the classic Regency tropes from both Jane Austen and Bridgerton specifically. From its very first moments, the story shows its hand as a semi-comedic spoof of the Regency era, as Lord Barton wonders just which of the many dishonorings of his sister (in the kitchen? the study? the stables?) Lord Galpin objects to. Then, of course, one must have a grand ball with several formal dances and many dainty finger foods, orchestral music, fabulous gowns (though I've personally never been a big fan of the empire waist), eloquent insults, longing and dashed hopes for favorable matchmaking, ruinous gossip, and above all, not one but several scandals, romantic and otherwise. All of the requisite elements are in place and lovingly checked off.
And where Bridgerton posits an alternative history in which people of African, Indian, and east Asian ancestry had near-equal access to titles and land, Rogue decides to explore the idea of championing LGBTQ+ rights in the same time period. Rogue approaches the idea differently — rather than setting this story in an alt-universe Regency era wherein gay romances were celebrated and cherished, the Doctor asks Rogue to take a turn on the dancefloor precisely because he knows it will be scandalous. But the effect is similar, giving audiences the opportunity to witness a male-male couple sharing an intimate dance on the ballroom floor in a historically even-more-prejudiced era, unashamedly and joyously. (And, for all our jokes about how one should social distance during COVID as if you were a Regency couple in constant fear of social ruin, this really is a sensual dance.)
And yet.
Just last week, I mentioned that I'm still firmly on team #noromo when it comes to the Doctor. I love that the Doctor befriends people because they value who a person is rather than how a person looks, and that they prize intellect and kindness and wit over sexual attraction. I love that everyone can see themselves in the Doctor, whether straight or bi or gay or pan, cis or trans, asexual or aromantic. (Though, granted, the Doctor has traditionally fallen very much on the ace/aro end of the spectrum, leaving non-asexual audience members to superimpose their own identity on the character, so perhaps it was long past time that the Doctor enjoyed some explicitly straight/gay/pan romances, for inclusion's sake; then again, ace/aro heroes are exceedingly rare and it's rather a shame to have one of the few shining examples retconned away.) I love that the Doctor is above those kinds of base desires, instead devoting their time to scientific discovery and fighting injustice. It makes the Doctor a very welcoming hero to everyone, and above all, a hero who feels completely safe.
And it's not that I have a knee-jerk reaction against the very idea of the Doctor ever having a fulfilling romantic relationship. I think they deserve to be happy, because goodness knows they sacrifice enough for us ridiculous humans. But a romance for the Doctor would have to be pitched just right — and almost certainly not with a mayfly human — or it runs the risk of feeling dangerously close to that old fear that they pick their travelling companions for hanky-panky purposes, which I do think runs the risk of making the character's motivations feel a bit less noble.
Unfortunately, I'm just not feeling this relationship. To be sure, the Doctor and Rogue certainly share a smoldering (if not incendiary) chemistry, and the Doctor is clearly intrigued by Rogue right from the off. From the Doctor, I sense mutual attraction, and, well, some lust, whereas Rogue plays his cards closer to his chest. But then the episode starts falling all over itself to suggest that the Doctor and Rogue are already star-crossed lovers: Rogue blurts out "I'm in love!" on first seeing the TARDIS, which leads to an awkward clarification; he maybe-mock-proposes (or maybe-actually-proposes) to the Doctor in the ballroom, by giving the Doctor his ring; and we have this exchange:
And to think, he calls Rogue a fast mover! So that's one of the main issues I have with this relationship: they're already acting like their love is predestined, but they've only known each other for, what, thirty minutes? That is just not long enough for true, long-lasting love; the foundation for such a connection is nowhere near built. And I just do not buy that the Doctor, of all people, would immediately fall in love with someone for whom he's only thus far felt primal lust. Had the two of them just flirted, I might've loved it. But trying to sell Rogue as the Doctor's Great Love doesn't convince me any more than when they tried it with Rose — and she was a regular character for two years!
So this would be hard enough to swallow for any human with whom the Doctor had engaged in thirty minutes of flirting. What makes it near-impossible to swallow is Rogue's occupation. "You are a bounty hunter?" purrs the Doctor: "That is so cool." Is he being serious right now? Since when has the Doctor approved of bounty hunters at all, much less flirted with them and invited them onboard the TARDIS permanently? (The TARDIS, thank heavens, knows what's up: it gets indigestion around bounty hunters because of "the moral void, no offense.") Even worse, the Doctor started heavily flirting while he still thought Rogue was evil — or, to use the Doctor's own words, "monstrous" and "contemptible". I just cannot see the Doctor as the type of person who's genuinely attracted to the "bad boy" (or "bad girl") type, not when they've made a career out of defeating people like that. (Then again, River was at times only a few steps away from being a bounty hunter herself, so maybe the Doctor really does have a type.)
Still, I don't want to be too hasty in writing this romantic partnership off. On a quite significant level, my personal feelings about what type of person would be worthy of the Doctor's love are entirely beside the point. This is the first time that the Doctor, as a character, has had a proper LGBTQ+ romance — not counting a spontaneous kiss from Jack, or a budding relationship with Yaz that sputtered out before it ever launched — and it would be impossible to underestimate the importance of that kind of representation onscreen, especially to LGBTQ+ youth who can now truly see themselves reflected in the lead character. So, for that reason, I'm grateful to Rogue for kicking off the first Friday in Pride month by making homophobes uncomfortable, in proper Doctor Who fashion.
I really enjoyed Jonathan Groff in Glee, and I'm thrilled to see him becoming a part — maybe even a recurring part? — of the Whoniverse. I think what Rogue's relationship with the Doctor really needs is more depth, so I really hope he'll return to expand on the foundation that Rogue has laid. My jury is still out on his chemistry with Gatwa; Groff plays Rogue as so very cool and unruffled that at times he seems almost dispassionate, but his solemn exterior seems to be masking a sensitive soul, so we'll see (hopefully) how things develop. At least, despite my expectations, he does turn out to be a good guy in the end. I was very suspicious, at first, that Rogue was too cutthroat to merit the Doctor's affection. While I was correct that he was using their kiss as a distraction in order to swipe the activator device, I was wrong that he was planning to do what the Doctor couldn't, and banish Ruby. To my shame, I certainly didn't expect him to sacrifice himself, so I must admit that with that move, Rogue redeemed himself for me, rather a lot.
As a character, Rogue is essentially (by which I mean, "barely disguised") a Jack Harkness clone — he's a laid-back charming pansexual bad boy, who both flirts and competes with the Doctor; he's curiously knowledgeable about, and unfazed by, futuristic technology including dimensional transcendentalism; and his sense of humor, both sarcastic and teasing, is at times nearly indistinguishable from Jack's ("Which is convenient because I've been wanting some new shelves over there.") — and I can't quite decide how I feel about that. On one hand, we've seen that character type already; on the other, it's unlikely now that John Barrowman will be returning, so maybe we could use a character to fill the gap? Alas, Jack Harkness has a wickedly naughty sense of humor that Rogue seems to lack; on the whole, Rogue is a much more serious character — "the most serious man in history," in fact, as the Doctor calls him — though perhaps that's for the best, because he'll provide more of a counterpoint to the more emotionally ebullient fifteenth Doctor, assuming he returns at some point.
I should've known that lavishing this much 'meant to be' energy on a single-episode guest star would mean that something drastic would happen to separate them. Unfortunately, this means that Rogue fits squarely into my schema of LGBTQ+ cinema. Years back — in its DVD era! — I spent a month or two watching whatever queer films were available through Netflix at the time, and I realized that nearly every single one of them fell into the same pattern:
So, despite my misgivings about the foundation of their relationship, their separation feels both wrong and unfair. Between that, and my newfound appreciation for the character's selflessness, when he looked the Doctor in the eye and said "Find me", I became immediately invested in the Search for Rogue. Also, I'd forgotten that the Doctor still had Rogue's ring. And as he slipped it on, then I started to feel some sadness for the loss of what might have developed. I feel sure that, much like Flowerchild's earring on Ace's jacket, Rogue's ring will become a meaningful, sentimental part of the Doctor's wardrobe.
Having said that, I just can't believe that the Doctor would give up on finding Rogue: not just easily, but immediately, even. Surely, as all good companions are wont to say, there must be something he could do. I thought the ring was going to be the key: an item that Rogue used to wear, from which perhaps the Doctor could isolate Rogue's DNA or vibratory frequency or psychospoor, and then set the TARDIS to scan all accessible dimensions for any trace of him. Or couldn't the Doctor have used the sonic screwdriver to scan the dimension into which the triform deposited Rogue and the Chuldur, before the transport gate closed? Why wouldn't the Doctor at least try? So what if it takes a thousand years to find the dimension containing Rogue? He has a time machine!
The other element of the story that I find unfortunately hard to swallow is, well, the entire villainous scheme and its resolution. (I know, that's kind of a big percentage of the story. ...Sorry.)
For starters, I just don't understand why — and, to be honest, found it rather off-putting that — the Chuldur so strongly resemble Earth birds. And after I absolutely gushed about the makeup team last week, too! Now I have to shake my head in confusion. I mean, the artistry itself is great — I love the Duchess' lapis lazuli feathers, the amusingly long eyebrows and moustache on the blue bird, and Emily's stunning jet-black corvid makeup — but why? Why birds? Nothing about 'shapeshifting Regency-obsessed aliens' says birds to me, either literally or thematically. (And I must agree with online commenters that it looks rather silly to turn the actors' noses, but not their mouths, into vestigial beaks.)
But, okay, whatever, they all resemble alien sparrow-people or owl-women. Even if I can buy that, I still find their plan to be utterly perplexing.
Conceptually, the Chuldur are fascinating; there's loads of potential in the idea of shapeshifting aliens who (fatally) steal other people's identities just because their lives look like more fun. The idea that these aliens might intercept our Bridgerton broadcasts and become equally devoted fans, to the point that they want to time-travel back to 1813 and cosplay at a genuine Regency ball — even scheming how they can finagle key plot points like scandals and weddings into their visit — is an amusing one. Unfortunately, the way the story plays out, it's also a fairly silly, frivolous idea for a plot, which I must confess had me getting worried about 30 minutes into the story. Which is weird, because I'm absolutely not against a campy episode of Doctor Who, but for some reason, I felt like Rogue had difficulty settling on a tone.
On one hand, the Chuldur seem to be treating their infiltration with total seriousness, going fully undercover to the point that they'll even cosplay between themselves when nobody else is paying attention (as when Emily and Lord Barton argue in what they believe to be an empty library). In these moments, they seem to want a truly immersive cultural experience (unless they're just oblivious to one another's identity because they haven't scented each other). But at other times, rather than taking it seriously, they seem to be taking the mickey. This is especially true toward the end, when the Chuldur decide to throw caution to the wind and just have fun terrifying everybody, even if it does "ruin the authenticity of the evening", as the Duchess puts it. By this point the Chuldur-vicar is completely breaking character ("Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today in the sight of the unholy — oh, whatever, et cetera, praise be, holibobs") which, one would think, undermines the whole point of their exercise. Isn't this supposed to be like LARPing, where total immersion is the goal?
The dénouement also dilutes the story's cosplay metaphor, I think, when it additionally begins to lampoon modern streaming-binging culture, with lines like the Duchess' "Now it is time for the season finale!" It begins to feel like the script is winking and laughing for the benefit of the audience, rather than maintaining the integrity of the Chuldur's scheme. Maybe that's harsh, because the Chuldur are clearly seasoned Bridgerton bingers themselves, but I think I'd have bought that line more easily if it had been whispered excitement among the Chuldur, rather than shouted at top volume to a foyer full of natives.
This problem becomes even more explicit when the Duchess crows (#sorrynotsorry), "We're gonna cosplay this planet to death!" And that just doesn't quite make sense to me. I don't get how this theme resonates with the rest of the story, nor how it's logical within the world that Rogue has built. People cosplay characters they love. The act of cosplaying doesn't destroy the original, as it does here. By stealing human bodies, the Chuldur are slowly wiping out everyone they want to emulate and the entire culture in which they long to participate. That wouldn't necessarily be a risk if the Chuldur were just popping in to try on a different character or three, but it becomes a massive problem if they plan to continue cosplaying their way through all of England, which before long will make it impossible for anyone to enjoy a Regency cosplay, because all of the Regency people will have been wiped out. How is that an acceptable long-term goal for the Chuldur?
On the bright side, I do like the gentle commentary on social mobility. The Duchess scolds her housekeeper based on the expectation that they are from two very different worlds which should never cross; for the housekeeper merely to be seen in public at the ball is a disgrace. But the housekeeper is actually a Chuldur, for whom the barrier of social class matters not one jot; she would rather live the Duchess' life, so she simply takes it, adopting the Duchess' form (and gown) and leaving the real Duchess a smoking corpse on the ground. The Chuldur may be the villains of the piece, but their stolen bodies are afforded a liberation that real people from this time and place were not. (Yet again, the real-life villains are the humans!)
But ultimately, the dénouement is frustrating as well, even beyond the fact that the wedding set-piece happens out of nowhere following zero narrative or dramatic buildup (aside from a couple of generic mentions). The midpoint of the episode, on Rogue's ship, established quite firmly that once a person is bonded to the triform, they cannot budge their feet from it. I had sort of assumed, too, that once the transport gate was locked, it was locked, so it was a bit of a surprise to see Rogue successfully dump Emily into it. (But we know that the triform doesn't work like a forcefield, because Rogue was able to snatch the Doctor's sonic screwdriver while he was affixed to one, so maybe transport gates are like roach motels: you can check in, but you can't check out.) But the part that I find literally unbelievable is that, although you yourself cannot budge your feet once you've been locked into a triform, someone else can bodyslam you which (somehow) magically releases your feet from the transport gate's grip. I'm sorry, I just don't buy it. If it's possible for an external force to dislodge you, then why didn't Rogue just reach in, grab Ruby by the armpits, and give her a good tug until she came free?
So I'm dismayed that, out of a story with such a promising premise (and one of the few non-RTD writers in Kate Herron and Briony Redman!), so many of its critical elements weren't quite believable.
This is, however, a great story for the fifteenth Doctor, in that it (finally!) enables him to be an active plot propellant, and in that it further defines how his Doctor is distinct from his predecessors. As we've seen before, this is an incarnation who's far more in touch with his emotions than ever before. Even the tenth and eleventh Doctors, who showed some interest in romance, were also a bit awkward about the whole idea; the fifteenth, in marked contrast, is not. He just shrugs — "Okay!" — and dives in headfirst to see what happens. Rogue also demonstrates a broad range of heartfelt emotions for the Doctor, from joy to playfulness to rage to at least two occasions of heartbreak. Online commenters have been annoyed all season that the Doctor is now crying every single week, but personally, I absolutely love that the fifteenth Doctor wears his emotions on his sleeve. After all, isn't that the exact message that the series is trying to send? Of course the Doctor should be allowed to cry! What, just because he's a male hero, crying every week makes him look weak? No. That right there is a prime example of toxic masculinity, and Doctor Who is taking a stand against it, and I adore it for that. His tears may flow, but they don't cause him to freeze up, or prevent him from taking necessary action. The fifteenth Doctor is a fantastic role model for young boys who can now see their hero crying and articulating his feelings rather than bottling them up, and know that it's okay for them to do the same.
Because of that, it's frustrating to see that this script seems uncomfortable with the idea of following through. The fifteenth Doctor is supposed to have worked through years of therapy, left his angst at the door, and be embracing a mindful awareness of his emotional health. But in Rogue, despite a promising start as he lets himself succumb to his feelings for a handsome stranger, and confides in Rogue that after the loss of a loved one, "[we keep going] because we have to; we have to live each day because they can't", in the end he reverts back to his 'don't touch me' ways, literally pushing Ruby away when she encourages him to be open about his feelings rather than swallowing them. "I have to be like this," the Doctor assures her, reasserting his emotional walls and pretending that everything is just dandy, "because this is what I'm like. Onwards. Upwards. New horizons. Moving on. It's fine." Excuse me, wasn't he just scolding his predecessor about exactly this?!
I do really like, though, our first glimpse of the fifteenth Doctor's rage, which echoes the tenth Doctor's "no second chances" coldness in episodes like The Christmas Invasion and especially Human Nature. It surprises me not one jot that he would react this way on learning that the Chuldur have (so he believes) murdered Ruby and adopted her form:
Turning to fashion, this might be my favorite of the Doctor's outfits thus far in the season; I love the cut of his burgundy coat, which has a faint echo of Pertwee about it, and his beribboned wig is fantastic. And Gatwa is, of course, as exceptional as always. I loved the Doctor's demonstration of brooding, the multiple reactions that flit across his face after Rogue snatches the Doctor's sonic screwdriver, and Gatwa's delivery of "No-one walks away from a situation with one less shoe; you'd notice", "Okay, firstly, 'Doc'? No thank you sir, please.", his adorable Scottish accent on "Oh, I'm sorry, was that a wee smile?", and the Doctor's 'who me?' expression as he points to the other two-thirds of the triform on the floor.
For most of the story, Ruby (Millie Gibson) feels utterly sidelined, as if she's off having a lovely time playacting Bridgerton while the Doctor is getting all of the A-story action. Interestingly, for most of its runtime, Rogue really feels like an Eccleston-era story: the Doctor is off meeting handsome dashing bounty hunters and tracking down the alien threat, while Ruby befriends one of the locals and near-scandalizes her with talk of modern-day liberation. And it's cute that Ruby's a Bridgerton fan, especially given that she's already met Queen Charlotte, with Penelope yet to come at Christmas (assuming that Ruby is indeed part of this year's Christmas special). But I was wondering why Ruby felt so peripheral to the story, stuck in a fun but inconsequential plot thread, so I should've realized that Emily was more than she appeared.
Ruby's relationship with the Doctor is really starting to pay dividends now; she's very sweet with him after his separation from Rogue, and at this point, I can totally buy that they're best friends. Not sure I was totally convinced by Gibson's delivery of "Oh my Bridgerton!", but otherwise, this is a great week for Gibson. I absolutely adore the look on her face as the Doctor listens in to the interference over Ruby's earrings, and she gives a wonderful delivery of "Oh, she's so posh, I love her!", "Are you okay?", "Oh! What, what, what d'you mean, ruined?", "She's annoyingly smart", her heartbreaking delivery of "Doctor, I can't move" and "No, Doctor, it's fine." (which cemented her status as a True Companion), and the way she mimics the birdlike head movements of the Chuldur. And this week Ruby gets to play dress-up again, hooray! Personally, I wouldn't have thought to put blonde Ruby in a yellow dress, but it looks really pretty on her and actually quite suits her complexion, making her look the very picture of rosy and fresh-faced.
I had wondered, initially, if the title might portend the appearance this week of another renegade Time Lord; if so, I thought, the most likely bets were Jonathan Groff's character or Indira Varma's Duchess (of Pemberton). Alas, neither character turns out to be from the Doctor's adopted homeworld, but isn't it wonderful to welcome Varma back to the Whoniverse? I was also misled by pre-publicity to think that the Duchess was an alien right from the get-go, when in fact that is not the case: for the first 8 minutes, she's just your standard entitled noblewoman! Who delights in dressing down her staff as well as smugly insulting a ball guest who wore last season's gown — but, it must be said, rather sweetly takes Ruby under her wing. Love her delivery of "One-third of a brain, Doctor" and the way the Duchess knocks back her ratafia, or gin (scandalous!), or whatever clear liquid it is she's drinking.
Poor Lord Galpin, the first (onscreen) victim of the Chuldur's body-swapping. To be quite honest, I was rather disappointed that the body-swapping wasn't going the other way around, because Maxim Ays gives such an immediately appealing performance, with his dramatic transition from mousy-looking gentleman to hawk-eyed predator. His delivery of "Wow, you really are wonderfully bad, aren't you?" and "Look at me! I'm so dull! I'd rather be you." are just superb. We definitely need him back in a larger role down the line.
I can't say that I understand why Ruby so instantly and immediately takes against Lord Barton (Paul Forman). All he does is poetically compliment her hair, which I'd think is the sort of opening line you'd expect in this time period and situation. (Then again, she's clearly not wrong to snub him, given that his response is an infuriating "My dear, you should learn to be admired in silence." I love that Ruby talks back to him: "Now, get out of my way, Lord... Stilton." Ha!)
"Miss Emily Beckett," the Duchess informs Ruby: "She's bookish and vapid, I fear, but good teeth." Ha! What a description, of which Ruby seems as amused as I am. Rather than vapid, however, Camilla Aiko turns out to be a highlight of the story for me. "Bookish little wallflower" Emily gets a lot of the story's very best dialogue, like this exchange which made me LOL very hard thanks to Aiko's enthusiastic delivery:
And then there's this one, which takes such a startling sudden twist at the end that it had me cackling:
Followed finally by:
Just as it seemed that Ruby was going to be stuck in her B-plot forever, it suddenly hit me that the fireside scene of Ruby comforting Emily through her culture shock was about to take a turn. That we still didn't know exactly how many Chuldur there were, that Ruby might be giving too much away, and that it looked as if Emily was about to put Ruby in a very sticky predicament. Sure enough, seconds later, Emily revealed herself. And finally the story had me gripped.
While on one hand, I was completely taken in by Emily's true identity, on the other hand I feel rather bamboozled. I'm just not quite sure that the Chuldur playing Emily would be quite so method, not only arguing with Lord Barton in an empty library, but also listening to the entire conversation between the Doctor, Ruby, and Rogue, then choosing to continue to play innocent rather than warning her nestmates? I do appreciate, though, that the script keeps us guessing with regard to how many Chuldur are in Bath. Rogue thinks there's one; we think there are two; then we see four; and then Emily surprises us all!
We're really spoiled with the calibre of actors filling this story's smaller parts. Like Ays, Debra Baker is just fantastic as the housekeeper. I loved her delivery of "I made a stupid mistake choosing to be staff."
Of the two other Chuldur, my favorite is owl-woman Miss Talbot (Nancy Brabin-Platt), who seems both pouty and bloodthirsty, which is a fun combination. The butler (Ashley Campbell) gets the most striking Grover-esque blue feathers, but only a few lines.
Vicar Mr Price (David Charles) likewise only has a couple of short lines, but Charles is convincing as a stuffy clergyman who refuses to marry alien bird-people in a sham wedding! As you would.
Michelle Greenidge gets a lovely short cameo as Carla Sunday, and I loved her delivery of "If anyone deserves to see it all, feel it all, it's Ruby." Honestly, given that he nearly loses Ruby here (and is obviously envisioning how he can possibly tell Carla), it's almost a surprise that the Doctor doesn't take her right back home here and now.
This week, Susan Twist confounds us all by appearing merely as a portrait! Ha! But it looks like next week we'll finally find out the answer to who she is, which has me very intrigued. (Plus of course MEL!!!)
I don't know that I loved Murray Gold's score so much this week. It's a little overzealous at times, with an "adventure sequence" score as Emily and Lord Barton whoosh past Ruby, and at the end, the Murray Gold bombastic choir returns, operatically soaring over yet another shot of a melancholy and contemplative Doctor. But I adore that in true Bridgerton fashion, as the Doctor first meets Rogue, the dancers on the ballroom floor are quadrilling to "Bad Guy" by Billie Eilish, and — better yet — Ruby gets a fight sequence choreographed to an orchestral version of Lady Gaga's "Poker Face", which is exactly the sort of Doctor Who + Bridgerton mash-up that I am here for.
There aren't a whole lot of noticeable effects this week either, though I suppose that's not unexpected for a historical setting. When Lord Barton (and others) are murdered, the lightning bodyswap effect is nifty, and I love the smoking dessicated corpse it produces, looking as if Lord Barton had just been kissed by an Incan mummy girl. I also like the design of Rogue's ship, though wouldn't its winged beaked hull be more appropriate for the design of a Chuldur ship?
I can't say I was particularly wowed by Ben Chessell's direction either; it's perfectly fine, but amid all these gorgeous gowns and balconies and moonlit woods, there weren't really any shots that made me sit up and take notice. But I do love the scenes amid the gorgeous backdrop of the lantern-lit wisteria arbor, and the Doctor and Rogue's dance is gorgeously filmed, especially the long-shots and the way the light dims to focus all our attention on the chemistry between these two characters. (Bravo, too, to choreographer Jack Murphy!)
My snack of choice this week: a package of Lancashire Eccles cakes and a big Kendal mint cake — neither originating from the Regency era, but at least Kendal mint cake is from the right century — along with a pot of sweet rhubarb infusion herbal tea (really yummy) by Taylors of Harrogate.
Minor points:
Doctor: "Just try not to get engaged, or accidentally invent tarmac."
Lord Barton: "Stilton?"
Duchess: (sweeping past him) "It's a very difficult cheese."
Rogue: "Why isn't it cloaked?"
Doctor: (affronted) "It's behind a tree."
Doctor: "Oh, I see. My name's Bond, Molecular Bond."
Rogue: "This job has so much paperwork, ever since we got that new boss."
Doctor: "How long does a vexil last?"
Computer: "Nine."
Doctor: "Oh, that long."
Doctor: "You ready for this?"
Rogue: (drily) "It's not my first shed."
Doctor: "Yes, the things that you don't recognize are called surfaces."
Doctor: "Whatever the Chuldur has done, I can't let you kill it. I also can't let it kill others."
Rogue: "I don't see how us dancing will create a scene."
Doctor: "Then you should've researched this era a little more, because we are scandalous."
Duchess: "And we can start wars with the French and the Spanish and the Portuguese and everyone who doesn't look British!"
Rogue features a couple of memorable inclusions — the ethical dilemma is a heartwrenching one, and the attempt to balance out the last few years of the Doctor making moon eyes at Rose and Amy and Clara has been a long time coming — but because there's not enough foundation laid for either plot element, they both wind up feeling illogical and superficial. It's unquestionably fun to spend time in this joyful Bridgerton-inspired world, but sadly, the story just doesn't live up to its great promise.
| posted: | 11 June 2024 |