Allons-y! Doctor Who’s 60th anniversary with David Tennant, Catherine Tate and the introduction of Ncuti Gatwa as the 15th incarnation of the Doctor is almost upon us! Being a fan since my sweet and naïve youth, I can barely contain my innate sense of ‘whovian’ glee and wonder.
For those of you who are feeling completely clueless…whose eyes have not witnessed sci-fi excellence…let me explain.
Doctor Who is about a 900-year-old time-lord from the planet Gallifrey, who flies through time and space in the TARDIS (a blue police box) with his (mostly) human companions whilst saving the universe from evil aliens and monsters that threaten to destroy it. Oh, and I should also mention the Doctor carries a sonic screwdriver! The genius of the show is that the Doctor has two hearts and can therefore ‘regenerate’ into a new body right at the point of seeming death, which has allowed the show to constantly reinvent itself. First broadcast on 23rd November 1963, the show remained on air until 1989 before returning in 2005, cementing its legacy as a televisual touchstone, providing stories of faraway planets, slimy monsters, alien invasions, plastic robots and a metal-robot dog, called K-9.
The first episode of the show I ever saw, Smith and Jones, was recorded onto a VHS tape by my grandparents, who unknowingly started a borderline unhealthy obsession. The opening title sequence with its swirling mass of colour, the story of a hospital on the moon, with a rhinoceros police force called ‘Judoon’, a blood-sucking ‘plasmavore’ and Martha Jones being whisked away by a dashing young man in a pin-stripe suit in red converse to explore the wonders of the universe (which my unaware self at the time didn’t realise was a subtle queer awakening), had me transfixed. That day I must have almost worn the VHS tape down with how many times I re-watched it. By my third watch through I was already pretending I was the Doctor, with a makeshift Phillips screwdriver, shutting all the doors in the house to protect myself from aliens.
And that was it…from that moment on I was Doctor Who mad. I implored by parents to buy the DVDs of episodes I had missed, waited feverishly for future series, dressed up as the Doctor, played with the action figures, read the books (and the weekly magazine). The 2000s were THE time to be a fan – with exhibitions, concerts and endless spin-offs that led to the creation of a ‘multiverse’. (Doctor Who did Infinity War before the MCU and they did it better. Yes…I really did just write that). I dissected episodes intently with the only other fan I knew at the time (my mum) and can vividly envision going to see the behemoth Toys ‘R’ Us displays of merchandise. I even remember the ‘TARDIS’ and ‘Dalek’ cakes I had for birthdays, themed ‘Frubes’ and tins of ‘wholewheat pasta shapes’. To this day, chords of music from the show can bring tears to my eyes and I am not ashamed to say I have danced to the theme tune…alone…in my bedroom…countless times.
Beneath all this nostalgia lies my true love for Doctor Who: It simply allowed me to disappear. Whenever the real world felt too scary or overwhelming, I could fly off with the Doctor, to anywhere my imagination would take me. It made me feel less alone, giving me the bravery to stand up to the far more terrifying human monsters that surrounded me.
The show’s companions became my feminist icons. From Martha Jones to Sarah Jane Smith, these were the women who inspired me, taught me to stand up for what is right and to never back down in the face of the most insurmountable fear. Its subtle LGBTQ+ representation, with the inclusion of an omnisexual time agent showed me that our differences make us valuable, that out in the vastness of the universe, we can be anyone who we want to be, a message my little gay heart carried with me until it was ready to be set free.
Therefore, it feels slightly odd, as a fan who has stuck with the show, to see so many excited for its return. In recent years interest has waned and viewing figures have fallen. However, the fervour around it all is bringing me right back to those days of childish joy.
You may ask…’Is any of it bad?’
Oh yes…some episodes are true clunkers. It doesn’t matter though. They make me laugh, still transporting me to a place of happiness and joy. At the core of the bad episodes still lies a set of characters, looking to find something better amidst the monotony of life. It is the characters that the fans fall in love with, it is them that make us adore the show despite its occasional inconsistencies. These stories are as quintessentially iconic as the rest of the show, reaching a level of camp that I hope I will be able to achieve in my lifetime.
Ultimately, Doctor Who is an incredible piece of television or, as the Doctor would say, ‘a big ball of wibbly wobbly timey wimey stuff’. Like all great sci-fi, it provides an escape. It offers us hope, Jammie Dodgers and Jelly Babies. The idea there is a person, out in the stars, willing to risk their life to save us? In such a gloomy world, what’s wrong with looking out to those stars once in a while?
If only I could step into that little blue box that’s bigger on the inside…
To coincide with the 60th anniversary, ‘The Whoniverse’ has launched on iPlayer, featuring 800 episodes of Doctor Who and its spinoffs.
If any first-timers are interested I recommend starting with the 1st episode of the revival: Rose. This should ease you in. Trust me, ‘you’ll have the trip of a lifetime!’
