A Town Called Mercy

Dear Gary—

A Town Called Mercy would be a perfect serial to place on an alien planet. There is no rule that says just because they are going for the Western feel the story has to take place in the American Wild, Wild West. And since most of the townsfolk of Mercy all speak in an odd assortment of accents, none of which belong in the Wild, Wild West much less America, I’m already assuming they are extraterrestrials themselves, and when none of them blinks an eye at the presence of aliens I’m even more convinced. But no, the show has chosen the lazy route.

I’m not the biggest fan of Westerns (despite being my father’s daughter and coming from a clan that mined Zane Grey books for baby names even though they mispronounced many of them; and hang in there, Gary, for a long aside here because now I’m reminiscing; Dad was talking about his Aunt Vannie and her five children—Indiaetta, Nelma [she of Nelma, WI fame], June, Ruth, Ella, and Garland—and he went on to say there were three girls and two boys to which Wayne asked which were the boys; he could see perhaps Garland as a boy’s name, but who was the other; to which Dad replied June and Wayne said, “A boy named June? That’s a girl’s name;” and Dad then said, “not June; Joo’in—J-U-A-N;” after a brief pause Wayne exclaimed, “That’s Juan,” and the car exploded in laughter), and while this is a better stab at the genre than The Gunfighters, I’m not overly impressed. The scenery is lovely; however the atmosphere is wanting, mainly due to the lackluster actors. It’s not just the accents; they can’t even whip up enough enthusiasm for a decent lynch mob. They all stand around waiting for someone (the director perhaps?) to tell them what to do; even the preacher doesn’t do much leading of his flock; and the token saloon girl is merely a sanitized bartender. Other than Isaac, about the only one with any wild west swagger is the Doctor.

These hapless citizens are being held hostage in their town by a cyborg gunslinger and a ring around the town made up of “a load of stones and lumps of wood.” This impenetrable force field of stone and wood not only keeps the townsfolk in but it keeps the Gunslinger out. The Doctor, Amy, and Rory have no problem crossing the line though. OK, it’s more of a psychological barrier; someone steps a foot outside the ring and a warning shot is fired. Even still, not one of those 81 souls inside ever took advantage of the cover of night to slip quietly away? And none ever thought of the diversionary tactic that the Doctor employs to escape? No, these are definitely not the rough and tough pioneers of the American frontier. The Gunslinger has a better excuse—he’s reluctant to kill innocents; although he doesn’t seem to have any problem targeting Isaac and Rory for termination when they play decoy for the Doctor.

The Gunslinger has come to this pitiful excuse of a town in search of vengeance against Kahler-Jex, the man who made the Gunslinger into the cyborg killing machine that he is. Because Kahler-Jex has cured their sick and given the town electric lights and heat the citizens are protecting this alien doctor; not one of these pistol packing residents takes it upon himself to save the town by turning Jex over. Although I will give them the benefit of the doubt here; the Marshall has Jex safely stowed away in the jail so I suppose that has deterred anyone from this course of action.

This is the bare bones of the plot; not much going on, really; a set-up for a morality play. It’s interesting enough, I suppose, but I’m getting tired of this constant exploration of who really is the Doctor, how far will he go, what is his breaking point, and how dark is this bad boy. Not to mention the “this is what happens when you travel alone for too long” merry-go-round with his on-again-off-again companions. Especially since his character seems as inconstant as those yo-yo companions recently.

I suppose this could have been mildly interesting if the focus had been on the war crimes aspect between Jex and the Gunslinger. However the primary focus is on how this affects the Doctor and more peripherally his need for companionship.

We already know from the previous serial that the Doctor is capable of murder so it isn’t too shocking when he pulls a gun. Handing Jex over to his executioner is a legitimate solution, and one not too far off from Doctor Nine in Boom Town. The violence and passion with which he forces Jex over the line is different however, and it is interesting that what causes the Doctor to snap is Jex holding up a mirror to him. “There’s rage there, like me,” Jex tells the Doctor. “Guilt, like me. Solitude. Everything but the nerve to do what needs to be done.” The Doctor doesn’t like it one bit when his own hypocrisies and failings are spotlighted.

Amy: “You see, this is what happens when you travel alone for too long. Well, listen to me, Doctor; we can’t be like him. We have to be better than him.”

The purpose of this episode can be found in that single line. That and the “we all carry our prisons with us” spiel. 

I’m sick of stories that are built around themes and arcs and trying to explore the deep, dark crevices of the Doctor’s psyche. Can we please have a standalone adventure that can truly stand on its own two feet? If themes and arcs and Doctor factoids arise organically, fine. Just stop beating us over the head for mercy’s sake.

However Mercy’s fate is in the hands of the Doctor whether I like it or not.

After the Doctor’s tantrum gets Isaac killed he settles down into his protector of the peace role, complete with symbolic star. (“Oh my god; you’re the Marshall.”) In the end it is left to Jex himself to get the Doctor out of this tricky situation. Jex commits suicide for the good of all and the Doctor can direct the now purposeless Gunslinger towards endless guardianship of this nondescript town. Nice; neat; convenient; ho-hum.

As usual, A Town Called Mercy has some amusing moments and interesting ideas; nothing spectacular, but it’s an OK way to spend 45 minutes . . . it you have the time to spare, Gary . . .