A difference between the Eleventh Doctor and his predecessors is a lack of darkness in the character. At least, that's my first impression - are there darker moments I've overlooked? Your thoughts solicited.
I keep hearing people say this, and I keep disagreeing. I think Eleven is dark in a different way - on a more personal level. And I think Smith's performance is subtler than Tennant and Eccleston's ever were (though that worked with Eccleston because the pain was nearer the surface, more visible) - Eleven's darkness is buried, so deep, but I still think it's there, in his decisions and his actions and his callousness.
I'd say, the decisions he makes in The Beast Below. Pretty much all of Amy's Choice. And I personally have theories that he spends 90% of this series manipulating Amy to his own ends, but that's my theory (and biased by shipping them, so.)
That's reminded me of those startling moments when he suddenly loses his temper - in "Beast Below", the "nothing human" speech, and later in "Flesh and Stone": "Like me, for example!"
Amy reckons she's got the Doctor under control, but I do suspect it's the other way around. He he he. (Hmm, that also applies to River.)
Indeed - he seems very complete and contained, very settled, definitely old. But that's got me thinking, because it's not really what I was thinking of. For example, Tennant's Doctor seemed to me to be at his darkest at moments such as his dispassionate extermination of the Racnoss, or his raging glee at Bowie Base One, or even his delight at the werewolf way back in "Tooth and Claw". I suppose those are the moments at which he seems the least human.
Yah, very much so. It's like the last two incarnations were hard at work processing the fallout of Gallifrey's destruction, and now, with the closure of "End of Time", that's behind him.
Weird...to me, he seems darker than his predecessors.
I think it depends on what you define as "dark". Nine and Ten tended to either sulk until I wanted to slap them, or to throw tantrums that were pitched so high emotionally that I didn't really believe them. Eleven? I believe. If Ten is a sulky little boy who might cut down the baddies in a fit of pique (or the goodies, hello Harriet Jones), Eleven is the contained, battle-weary Doctor with an old man's control of his emotions, who rarely raises his voice because he doesn't have to. You know how they say you should always be more afraid of a dog that doesn't bark? That.
Specific scenes: Ep 1: "I'm the Doctor. Basically? Run." This line is very calm and understated, because the Doctor knows only too well from past experience that he's more than capable of following through on any threat that he makes...and that knowledge isn't remotely pleasant to him. It's a quiet, subdued, regretful confidence....and the tiny hint of a smile at the end makes it especially chilling. *shudder*
The Beast Below: "No one human has anything to say to me today!" During the rest of the speech, Eleven is keeping the 'nutty Professor' mask on so tightly it hurts, but he can't quite help letting just a fraction of his grief and rage explode out in that one line.
There are other examples that I can't think of specific episodes for, but generally, when someone brings up Eleven's past, or he remembers that he's the thing the monsters are afraid of? His smile freezes for just a second, and his next line is almost invariably spoken very, very gently. He knows better than to deny his own guilt, but it's such an integral part of him now that, like an old battle scar, he only seems to notice it when others point it out to him.
Just as in any fairy tale or horror movie, it's the things you don't see that are the scariest. And for me, the tiny hints of darkness that Eleven just barely allows us to see are a lot more affecting to me that all of Nine and Ten's sulking and ranting put together.
Oh, and there are definite shades of Seven manipulating Ace in Eleven's treatment of Amy. Big time.
I was reminded of Seven when I was watching the season finale on Saturday, at the point when Eleven is telling young-Amy the "fairy tale". Both in the way he tells it and in his weariness. I can see Seven doing that scene in the same way.
Subtlety in Doctor Who, we can has it again. FINALLY. :)
I especially thought of Seven in the finale when Eleven popped out of the Tardis in his top and tails: Amy thought that she'd saved the day all by herself, but nope, the Doctor planned it all along by planting subconscious messages.
You're right that it depends on my definition of "dark", which I hadn't thought about in detail before I posted - your remarx have helped me work it out: for me, the Doctor is "dark" when he's frightening.
Ohyah. And for me, someone who only shows a fraction of what they're capable of and leaves the rest to your imagination? Is one scary dude. Ie, Nine's big ranty speech in Bad Wolf/PotW about wiping every stinking Dalek out of the sky? Eleven would say it almost in a whisper. *shudder* Ten deposed Harriet Jones with much sound and fury; Eleven would do it with a quiet little smile. Cold, man.
I don't think "sound and fury" really describes the "Don't you think she's tired" scene - what's more, Smith vs Dalek isn't a patch on Eccleston vs Dalek. Having said that, Smith's performance is much more internal and self-possessed than either of his predecessors - "cold" is right, or at least, cool. But having said that, what examples do we have so far of his wreaking soft-spoken (or ranting) catastrophe on his enemies?
Smith vs Dalek isn't a patch on Eccleston vs Dalek
In terms of BAFTA-chasing scenery-chomping? I definitely agree. :) I'm not a huge fan of the big epic melodramatic scenes though; even though speeches where the actors spit bits of the scenery out along with their lines has been an integral part of Doctor Who since year dot. I've always found a bit of subtlety more effective, because it allows you to draw your own conclusions, and - more importantly - allows you room to wonder what the character isn't saying.
what examples do we have so far of his wreaking soft-spoken (or ranting) catastrophe on his enemies?
Good question, though I think it rather misses the point. The Doctor's always done the age-old animal trick of posturing to avoid a fight, but in the past, his ranting has seemed more like a cat arching its back at a larger foe: exaggerating his own prowess to intimidate. Eleven seems more like a slowly swaying cobra: "Think about it, now...do you really want to try me?"
It's Eleven's quiet, subdued regret that makes his violent past more tangible for me than the ranting. Imagine Ghengis Khan or someone having grown old and suddenly facing a new enemy. He could easily take this newcomer apart - and will, if he has to - but he doesn't really want to. Because he's tired of grinding his enemies into the dust. For me, that's the whole essence of Eleven: as he says, "sometimes winning is no fun at all."
S5 also makes powerful sense of River's line to Ten in Silence in the Library: "but you're so young!" Nine and Ten both seem much younger than Eleven, in terms of insecurity and having something to prove. Eleven has nothing to prove, because he's proved it already...and we can clearly see the toll that that's taken on him without his having to shout about it.
I've always found a bit of subtlety more effective, because it allows you to draw your own conclusions, and - more importantly - allows you room to wonder what the character isn't saying.
Mind you, it can have its drawbacks - the Eleventh Doctor's opacity is intriguing, but here and there, for me, it's made it a bit trickier to grasp characterisation and story. (Of course, some of that may just be that I'm used to the particular "grammar" of David Tennant's performance! Some of it may be editing and direction rather than Smith, too.) Plus there's a bit of a trap here, I think - if we can draw our own conclusions, we can read whatever we like into the character. Actually, that may be deliberate!
Of course, some of that may just be that I'm used to the particular "grammar" of David Tennant's performance!
I think that's it exactly: Tennant as the Doctor tended to wear his emotions pretty much on his sleeve (as did Eccleston), but Smith's Doctor keeps things closer to the cuff.
I think it's an exciting part of getting to know any new Doctor (or any new person at all, really): learning to read their signals. And for me, the subtlety of Eleven's verbal and non-verbal cues is what makes them "darker" than his predecessors: Ten gave his enemies "no second chances"; the terrifying thing about Eleven is that unless they're smart - and perceptive - his enemies might not even realize he's giving them a first one.
His response when Rory fails to be appropriately impressed by the TARDIS interior in The Vampires of Venice is written as disappointment, but played by Smith as quietly psychotic rage. Genius.
Darkness is in the eye of the beholder. There's an implicit darkness in the way he carries himself - old man in a young body, all cheers and smiles until you look in his eyes and see the weary lessons he's learned.
"Vincent and the Doctor" shows that when he takes Amy back to see the exhibit after they've shown VanGogh he will be appreciated. She's all bubbling to see years more work. He... he knows better. In some ways, it's a combination of Troughton's manic clown, Davidson's old-man in young eyes performance and McCoy's quiet "You really don't want to do that..." level of melancholy.
And it's all tightly wrapped.It only comes out through the eyes now and again. Or, in "Amy's Choice" which was very much about the Doctor's dark side tearing at him.
I also think it's interesting he's the first Doctor to truly trade on his reputation. Some would rail against this as an elevation of the doctor into some nigh mythic creature but I think it's just an acknowledgment he isn't an anonymous traveler any more. The power brokers of the universe know his name and his history as much as we do. If he can use it to stop an army without a shot, bully for him.
Mmm, I'd say Eleven still has a dark side -- and not just the obvious stuff from "Amy's Choice" (*cough*Valeyard*cough*), or the outbursts of temper that reveal what he's keeping tightly wound up inside. Every now and then, MS manages to get some intriguing, quiet menace going.
My fave example is in "The Hungry Earth" when he tells Ambrose to leave the weapons in the van. As he puts it, "I'm asking you nicely," but there's just something about the way he says it, with a little smile, that powerfully implies he could be very not-nice about it if he chose . . . and Ambrose clearly "gets" it.
I'm glad they kept that aspect of the character; I think it adds a lot of interest. *shrugs*
My fave example is in "The Hungry Earth" when he tells Ambrose to leave the weapons in the van. As he puts it, "I'm asking you nicely," but there's just something about the way he says it, with a little smile, that powerfully implies he could be very not-nice about it if he chose . . . and Ambrose clearly "gets" it.
THIS, yes. Completely. Eleven's threats aren't so much sound and fury as a smiling man just about keeping a rabid dog contained on the end of a leash. He's showing you the leash because it's the polite thing to do, but his chilly smile clearly says that he'll let go of it if you push him far enough.
I think I'll enjoy seeing what happens when someone finally does push him far enough! I'd love to see him make a quiet threat to a baddie, like the Tenth Doctor to Mr Finch in School Reunion, and then follow through on it in some twisted Moffat way. >:)
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2010-06-28 07:55 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-06-28 08:00 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-06-28 08:03 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-06-28 08:07 am (UTC)Amy reckons she's got the Doctor under control, but I do suspect it's the other way around. He he he. (Hmm, that also applies to River.)
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Date: 2010-06-28 08:38 am (UTC)no subject
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Date: 2010-06-28 10:00 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-06-28 08:39 am (UTC)I think it depends on what you define as "dark". Nine and Ten tended to either sulk until I wanted to slap them, or to throw tantrums that were pitched so high emotionally that I didn't really believe them. Eleven? I believe. If Ten is a sulky little boy who might cut down the baddies in a fit of pique (or the goodies, hello Harriet Jones), Eleven is the contained, battle-weary Doctor with an old man's control of his emotions, who rarely raises his voice because he doesn't have to. You know how they say you should always be more afraid of a dog that doesn't bark? That.
Specific scenes: Ep 1: "I'm the Doctor. Basically? Run." This line is very calm and understated, because the Doctor knows only too well from past experience that he's more than capable of following through on any threat that he makes...and that knowledge isn't remotely pleasant to him. It's a quiet, subdued, regretful confidence....and the tiny hint of a smile at the end makes it especially chilling. *shudder*
The Beast Below: "No one human has anything to say to me today!" During the rest of the speech, Eleven is keeping the 'nutty Professor' mask on so tightly it hurts, but he can't quite help letting just a fraction of his grief and rage explode out in that one line.
There are other examples that I can't think of specific episodes for, but generally, when someone brings up Eleven's past, or he remembers that he's the thing the monsters are afraid of? His smile freezes for just a second, and his next line is almost invariably spoken very, very gently. He knows better than to deny his own guilt, but it's such an integral part of him now that, like an old battle scar, he only seems to notice it when others point it out to him.
Just as in any fairy tale or horror movie, it's the things you don't see that are the scariest. And for me, the tiny hints of darkness that Eleven just barely allows us to see are a lot more affecting to me that all of Nine and Ten's sulking and ranting put together.
Oh, and there are definite shades of Seven manipulating Ace in Eleven's treatment of Amy. Big time.
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Date: 2010-06-28 09:05 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-06-28 09:14 am (UTC)Subtlety in Doctor Who, we can has it again. FINALLY. :)
I especially thought of Seven in the finale when Eleven popped out of the Tardis in his top and tails: Amy thought that she'd saved the day all by herself, but nope, the Doctor planned it all along by planting subconscious messages.
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Date: 2010-06-28 09:19 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-06-28 09:19 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-06-28 09:49 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-06-28 12:25 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-06-28 04:21 pm (UTC)In terms of BAFTA-chasing scenery-chomping? I definitely agree. :) I'm not a huge fan of the big epic melodramatic scenes though; even though speeches where the actors spit bits of the scenery out along with their lines has been an integral part of Doctor Who since year dot. I've always found a bit of subtlety more effective, because it allows you to draw your own conclusions, and - more importantly - allows you room to wonder what the character isn't saying.
what examples do we have so far of his wreaking soft-spoken (or ranting) catastrophe on his enemies?
Good question, though I think it rather misses the point. The Doctor's always done the age-old animal trick of posturing to avoid a fight, but in the past, his ranting has seemed more like a cat arching its back at a larger foe: exaggerating his own prowess to intimidate. Eleven seems more like a slowly swaying cobra: "Think about it, now...do you really want to try me?"
It's Eleven's quiet, subdued regret that makes his violent past more tangible for me than the ranting. Imagine Ghengis Khan or someone having grown old and suddenly facing a new enemy. He could easily take this newcomer apart - and will, if he has to - but he doesn't really want to. Because he's tired of grinding his enemies into the dust. For me, that's the whole essence of Eleven: as he says, "sometimes winning is no fun at all."
S5 also makes powerful sense of River's line to Ten in Silence in the Library: "but you're so young!" Nine and Ten both seem much younger than Eleven, in terms of insecurity and having something to prove. Eleven has nothing to prove, because he's proved it already...and we can clearly see the toll that that's taken on him without his having to shout about it.
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Date: 2010-06-30 12:24 am (UTC)Mind you, it can have its drawbacks - the Eleventh Doctor's opacity is intriguing, but here and there, for me, it's made it a bit trickier to grasp characterisation and story. (Of course, some of that may just be that I'm used to the particular "grammar" of David Tennant's performance! Some of it may be editing and direction rather than Smith, too.) Plus there's a bit of a trap here, I think - if we can draw our own conclusions, we can read whatever we like into the character. Actually, that may be deliberate!
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Date: 2010-07-05 11:00 pm (UTC)I think that's it exactly: Tennant as the Doctor tended to wear his emotions pretty much on his sleeve (as did Eccleston), but Smith's Doctor keeps things closer to the cuff.
I think it's an exciting part of getting to know any new Doctor (or any new person at all, really): learning to read their signals. And for me, the subtlety of Eleven's verbal and non-verbal cues is what makes them "darker" than his predecessors: Ten gave his enemies "no second chances"; the terrifying thing about Eleven is that unless they're smart - and perceptive - his enemies might not even realize he's giving them a first one.
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Date: 2010-07-06 09:24 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-06-28 12:00 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-06-28 12:14 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-06-28 12:12 pm (UTC)"Vincent and the Doctor" shows that when he takes Amy back to see the exhibit after they've shown VanGogh he will be appreciated. She's all bubbling to see years more work. He... he knows better. In some ways, it's a combination of Troughton's manic clown, Davidson's old-man in young eyes performance and McCoy's quiet "You really don't want to do that..." level of melancholy.
And it's all tightly wrapped.It only comes out through the eyes now and again. Or, in "Amy's Choice" which was very much about the Doctor's dark side tearing at him.
I also think it's interesting he's the first Doctor to truly trade on his reputation. Some would rail against this as an elevation of the doctor into some nigh mythic creature but I think it's just an acknowledgment he isn't an anonymous traveler any more. The power brokers of the universe know his name and his history as much as we do. If he can use it to stop an army without a shot, bully for him.
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Date: 2010-06-28 03:57 pm (UTC)My fave example is in "The Hungry Earth" when he tells Ambrose to leave the weapons in the van. As he puts it, "I'm asking you nicely," but there's just something about the way he says it, with a little smile, that powerfully implies he could be very not-nice about it if he chose . . . and Ambrose clearly "gets" it.
I'm glad they kept that aspect of the character; I think it adds a lot of interest. *shrugs*
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Date: 2010-06-28 04:36 pm (UTC)THIS, yes. Completely. Eleven's threats aren't so much sound and fury as a smiling man just about keeping a rabid dog contained on the end of a leash. He's showing you the leash because it's the polite thing to do, but his chilly smile clearly says that he'll let go of it if you push him far enough.
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Date: 2010-06-30 12:19 am (UTC)