Dinosaurs on a Spaceship

Dear Gary—

Dinosaurs on a Spaceship is some well meaning, manufactured fun. It has the feel of a bunch of guys sitting around throwing out ‘hey, wouldn’t it be great if . . .’ statements and then assigning one of them to create a story from it all. As one would expect, some of it works and some of it doesn’t.

“This is the gang. I’ve got a gang.” The Doctor’s ‘gang,’ comprised of Ponds and non-Ponds, is an element that is forced. The simple yet potentially deadly mission the Doctor is sent on does not call for a ‘gang,’ yet with only six hours to work with he dashes off to collect this rag-tag team to join in the fun and the danger. “Not really had a gang before,” he says; “it’s new.” (Considering the crowded TARDIS that the Fifth Doctor worked with, not really; but for the present Doctor, OK.) The question is, why does he feel the need for a gang? It’s not properly explored, but my own theory is that the Doctor wants to collect an entourage to deflect the amorous advances of Queen Nefertiti who has stowed away on the TARDIS. It is extremely selfish and reckless, but it is in character for this Doctor. The real answer, though, is that the author thought it would be cool.

The Ponds are a natural fit, and by extension Rory’s dad. The story would have been just fine with this trio, and I would welcome an expanded role for Mark Williams as Brian Williams that this scenario would allow. Instead we have Queen Nefertiti (Neffy) and an anonymous big game hunter by the name of John Riddell joining the crew.

My first thought about these two is that they are both far too clean. They are too polished and freshly starched and made up and creased for their roles in their just off the rack outfits. These are two actors who have spent hours in make-up and wardrobe and not adventurers plucked out of their daily lives. Next I wonder what the Doctor is doing palling around with a man who hunts defenseless creatures for a living. This is not in line with the politically correct Eleventh Doctor, or any recent Doctor for that matter. A gun toting companion is anathema to New Who, even ones working for UNIT. What is the norm for New Who, and unfortunately so, is the depiction of great female historical figures as little more than nymphomaniacs with attitude. Come to think of it, every female companion with the exception of Donna has followed the Doctor on board in large part because of her sex drive. And continuing on this line—so too have most of the male companions who have tagged along panting after the female companions (or in the case of Jack, both the companion and the Doctor). But wouldn’t it be cool, I can just hear the thought spoken in that room full of guys, to have Queen Nefertiti and a macho male sparring in space? And thus we have played out for us a 1950’s idea of romantic banter.

Thankfully Amy is there to balance out these dueling dance partners. Although at times she lapses into the battle of the sexes cliché, for the most part she has a no-nonsense, take charge approach that is refreshing. I also find it refreshing that she and Rory are split apart without either of them pining after, searching for, or worried about the other.

The more relevant and engaging group is that of the Doctor and the two Williamses. The father and son dynamic in particular is fascinating. It is amusing and touching to witness the various aspects of this very human relationship, much more so than the plastic one in our other grouping. The affectionate needling and Rory’s slight embarrassment of his father are typical of many families, and I love how this evolves into some teaching opportunities as Rory accustoms his father to space travel and Brian underscores the practical side of life to Rory. (“What sort of man doesn’t carry a trowel?”) Love, concern, and pride round out this bonding journey when Rory breaks out his nursing skills to tend to his father’s wound.  Finally it all culminates in the two piloting the craft to safety (due to the highly impractical navigational system that can only be operated by two people of the same gene pool).

Surprisingly, the germ of an idea that probably led to this grab bag narrative, snakes on a plane . . . I mean dinosaurs on a spaceship . . . is one of the things that works rather well. Not only are the dinosaurs realistically rendered (flashback visions from Invasion of the Dinosaurs), they are convincingly integrated into the plot. The revelation that this is a Silurian ark is enough to explain their presence, but they are also well utilized beyond their gratuitous wow factor. Amy and the other two accidentally wandering into a T Rex nest; pterodactyls on the beach; Tricy chasing a golf ball; providing tension, menace, and amusement in turn.

About that Silurian ark—this is a great way to explain the title and to tie in some of the show’s history (and I have to say—kudos to the fantastical idea of “a spaceship powered by waves”) however . . . .

The Silurians, with dinosaurs aboard, would have taken off when exactly? And our current story is taking place in 2367 AD. So has this ark been drifting about in space for millions of years? And if so, how have the dinosaurs survived for all of that time? Or has the spaceship time traveled? That seems more logical, especially since everybody in the New Who universe has this ability. And if it has time traveled, why were the Silurians looking for another planet? Why not travel forward in time to when the Earth is again habitable and then go home? Why go out in space at all? Perhaps it is Solomon’s vehicle which has jumped the Silurian ark ahead in time, but then why was he back in time, and if he was back in time why not just go down to Earth and pick up all the dinosaurs he wanted? He could probably gather up hundreds of eggs—compact, lightweight, easy to transport. Come to think of it, anybody in the New Who universe who has the ability to time travel, which is just about everybody in the New Who universe, could go back and pick up as many eggs as they want, rendering the dinosaurs essentially worthless.

But we are to put all of those questions out of our minds and just focus on the fact that Solomon has hijacked this ark at some point in time and space that is up in the air and is now drifting back to Earth in the year 2367 AD and the Indian Space Agency has called the Doctor in to stop the ship from crashing. He has six hours or the ISA will blow it out of the sky with missiles. Stop asking pesky questions, like why hasn’t Solomon heard any of the messages that the ISA has aimed at the ship?

Solomon. Solomon is an element that doesn’t work. He is thoroughly despicable. While this normally would be a prerequisite for many a villain, it is discordant with the lighthearted tone of the bulk of the episode and starkly contrasted with the rust bucket duo of robots he has as henchmen.

And finally this brings me to the Doctor. The Doctor works; and the Doctor doesn’t work.  For most of the episode the Doctor is as usual funny and brilliant and witty and charming. Until he meets up with Solomon and discerns the true nature of Solomon.

Solomon intimidates the Doctor into repairing his leg by having his robot friends injure Rory’s dad. He then proceeds to demand that Queen Nefertiti be transferred to him and the Doctor allows Neffy to give herself up. He does all of this while knowing full well that with a single flick of his magic sonic screwdriver he could put the rust buckets out of commission thus eliminating Solomon’s threat. But I have come to learn that the magic sonic is a matter of convenience. The Doctor can pull it out, not whenever he would want or when it would be useful, but whenever the author dictates and when it will get him out of a spot that the author can’t think of any other way to resolve. When the author needs the drama to continue, however, the magic sonic remains firmly in pocket.

That isn’t the worst of it, though. Pacifist, politically correct, moralizing, self-righteous Doctor number eleven leaves Solomon to die. Vile though he is, Solomon is a living, sentient being who in essence is executed by the Doctor. The Doctor can forgive and plead for the Master who is responsible for the murder of millions if not billions, but a dinosaur killer deserves no mercy. To be fair, Solomon killed not only Tricy but all of the Silurians on board (not genocide as the Doctor claims, by the way, since we know there are plenty of Silurians to go around); even still this directly contradicts everything the Doctor stands for. Amy shouldn’t feel so bad for killing Eye Patch Lady in an alternate reality it seems. Morality in New Who is an ever shifting, inconstant concept that is dictated by the whims of the author for the greatest dramatic effect.

A grab bag of good and bad. In short, a classic episode of Doctor Who.

Amy and Rory decide enough is enough for a while—“not forever, just a couple of months”—and the writing is on the wall. Amy and Rory have only signed up for half a season. Earlier in the episode Amy was complaining at the length of the Doctor’s absence from their lives, and now they are dictating his absence for a spell. This chopped up life of theirs has got to be wearing (and undoubtedly led to their breakup in the previous story), and I once again have to say that I do not understand why these two continue to torture themselves in this way. Commit or say good-bye.

Amy says at one point of Neffy and Gun Boy, “Are they the new us?” They very well could be, given the nature of companiondom these days. Thankfully they are not; but oh Gary, I am getting rather tired of the yo-yo companion.