So here is the first real love story of this series (I liked Rory and I adore Amy – but theirs (so far) has not been a passion to burn down the ages) – and who do you turn to if you want a great love story? Richard “Love Actually, Four Weddings, Notting Hill” Curtis, of course.
The love for Vincent shines out from the very first second – the gorgeous Wallanderesque field of corn with wheeling black birds – to the very first line from the fabulous Bill Nighy. Sure, there’s going to be an alien along in a minute – but considering its 45 minutes of children’s telly it dealt with some really, truly dark stuff (mental illness (the pain and the stigma) and suicide) in a way that was both age-appropriate and grown-up. And, being Richard Curtis, he made me cry at least three times before the end.
The Doctor is being nice to Amy (“Why are you being SO nice to me?” “I’m always nice to you.” “Not like this…”) – presumably to ease his guilty conscience over Rory. Though I can’t help noting the echoes of his relationship with River Song (a red herring for the fans who think Amy is actually River? Or a dirty great big clue?) – all the places he’s taken her to: Arcadia, The Trojan Gardens, and now this, the Musee D’Orsay for a Van Gogh exhibition.
But, naturally, it’s not long before trouble raises it’s ugly head. The Doctor spots an evil-looking monster staring out of the window of the Church at Auvers and interrupts Bill Nighy’s tour of the paintings (“Sorry, ministry of art and artiness…”) to try to pinpoint the date when Vincent painted the picture and so find the monster.
Not to mention complimenting Nighy’s bowtie (“Nice bowtie. Bowties are cool.”)
For once, the TARDIS behaves and lands in the right time and place. Wow, the crew must have had a ball designing these sets – bringing so many über-famous paintings to life. All those things ‘soothed beneath the artist’s loving hand’ (to quote another love letter to Vincent) so beautifully recreated.
Back in the foreground (so to speak), we have the Doctor, Amy and Vincent being introduced – along with the prejudices of the townsfolk towards Van Gogh. The time-honoured method of building bonds via alcohol and then jeopardy is swiftly employed.
We quickly learn that Vincent is the only person who can actually see the great big parroty-dinosaurish alien who’s wreaking havoc in the town – after letting us think for a moment that it’s just Vincent’s madness. Though, you’ve got to love the little in-joke for watchers of Doctor Who Confidential – actors are always saying how weird it is acting to ‘nothing’, knowing the monster will be added in later – here at least two of them are acting to nothing most of the time.
It’s a nice touch getting Vincent to sketch the creature so the Doctor can use a new gadget (well, an old present from an excellent, if smelly, Godmother anyway) to identify the beast. Funnier still that it doesn’t work because Van Gogh is an impressionist. Still, it shows up in the gadget’s mirror and lets us get a glimpse of it too.
The Doctor plans to find the creature at the church and stop it causing any more damage (well not a plan, “it’s a thing, it’s like a plan but there’s more greyness”). I loved the Doctor’s boredom as Vincent paints and they wait for the beast to turn up: “Is this how time normally passes? REALLY slowly. In the right order.”
Eventually, they do trap the beast inside the church – only to realise that it’s blind and afraid. But with excellent hearing… It charges, Vincent protects them with his easel and the beast is fatally wounded. The Doctor soothes the (still) invisible and now frightened creature as it dies. Cue my first set of tears…
And with nearly ten minutes still to go, we return to the love letter to Vincent – the gorgeous Starry Night scene, words describing so tenderly Van Gogh’s unique view of the world; the poignant nearly-farewell “Doctor, my friend, we have fought monsters together and won.On my own I fear, I may not do as well.”; the decision to ‘show Vincent something’ – the chance to see how respected and well-loved an artist he is in 2010 (that speech by Bill Nighy moved me to the biggest, fattest tears of the night); the sad, final third return to the Musee D’Orsay to find that despite this Vincent still lost hope and killed himself – but not before leaving a note for Amy on that vase of sunflowers (yet, more blubbing).
And, watching for a second time (in order to write this) it made me cry all over again. Vincent and the Doctor was Doctor Who at its very, very best. James Corden has a lot to live up to next week.
Posted by Jo the Hat.
It was just wonderful, I sobbed my way through it.
Loved it. Very un-DW. But James Corden next week? He’s the new bloody Jamie Oliver in my World. Please get off the TV!
Hmm, I know what you mean. I’m hoping he’ll be less annoying than usual. Tune in to pauseliveaction at the same time next week to find out!
Lovely, lovely review, but… vase of sunglasses?
I know time can be rewritten, but all the same.
Doh! I was a bit tired and emotional (not a euphemism!) by that point. Thanks – will edit promptly!
They’re a bunch of miserable gits on Comment is Free, aren’t they? No soul.
I thought it was a lovely episode – moved me to tears as well. This whole series has had a magical, fey, fairytale feeling to it, and I love the way Matt Smith’s Doctor feels genuinely “un-human” and unpredictable to me (something neither Ecclestone nor Tennant did). I also love the nods to past Doctors throughout this series, with Hartnell and Troughton appearing on the printout from the gadget when the Doctor scans himself.
Amen to that sister! Every week I wonder why they bother watching if they don’t like Matt Smith/Karen Gillan/the scripts/the new TARDIS interior/etc. I don’t think they’ll be happy until the BBC starts rerunning the original series again!
I thought this was a phenomenal episode. Watched it with (soon to be) 8 year old son and we were transfixed. To explain the majesty and madness of Van Gogh through the medium of a popular TV series is a brilliant conceit. I could rave about the colour palette of the filming, the sparkling writing and the intensity of the emotion etc etc but just simply knocked out by it. The power is of it is reflected by the fact we were watching this on iPlayer on a tired Tuesday evening having missed the usual Sunday morning iPlayer watching and were just captivated. They should make this required watching in every Year 6 art class.
Umm … but I have to ask what a “Walleneresque” field of corn is? Is there some great impressionist I’m unaware of (or just a missing d)?
Indeed “Walleneresque” and “Nighy” (or indeed any other word in the review) gives us a googlewhack hit on the page.
And doh again. Fat fingers (or thin brain). Wallanderesque would be the still-not-actually-a real-word I was reaching for. Excuse me, while I re-edit. Again. [Shuffles off, mumbling under breath,]
‘Vase of sunglasses’ was an inspired Freudian slip! And getting an accidental googlewack is fab, so don’t berate yourself!
What’s a googlewack?
A Googlewhack is a Google search query consisting of exactly two words that return exactly one hit… Blame Dave Gorman for making it (sort of) famous.
Jo’s more technical than me, but when you googled ‘wallaneresque’ the only hit you got was pauseliveaction!
It’s still true, even after I corrected my fat fingered-typing. Damn teh interwebs for saving my errors forever!
Remind me not to blog after a long day being wound up by male relatives and small child at my mum’s village fete. Did see “Corporal” Richard Nayoukas (he’s a Sgt Major really) from Bad Lad’s Army though – he opened the fete and hung around for a couple hours being a very good sport.