Alien Appreciation: The Doctor of Doctor Who

There has been an awful lot of Austen on this blog lately, and a regrettable absence of aliens. This post is an attempt to change that.

When I started racking my brain for the last science fiction book I'd read, I realized that it was Jenna Starborn, which sort of doesn't count, since it's also Jane Eyre. But then, before I allowed myself to fall into complete and utter despair, I realized that that might have been the last truly sci-fi book that I read, but it's certainly not my most recent sci-fi media encounter. That title would belong to the absolutely marvelous British television series Doctor Who. Consider this post an appreciation of my current favorite alien, and a not-so-subtle argument about why you should go watch this show as soon as you possibly can.

A lot of people have heard of Doctor Who, but if you're not British (and I'm not), it can't possibly hold the same place in your collective national psyche. The original Doctor Who started running in the sixties, in black and white, and that run didn't end until the mid-eighties. Reruns showed throughout the time when it was off the air, keeping the show as a presence and influencing the lives of generations who might not have been sentient when the show was actually on air. Then, in 2005, the whole thing was rebooted, and the craze kicked off again.

When living in London, I heard a lot about Doctor Who. My friends obsessed over who would be cast as the new Doctor; even my teachers made references to characters from the series, or specific lines and episodes! It was so pervasively cultural that by the time I'd been living there for a couple of months, hanging out with British people and trying to understand what the heck they were saying, I understood a lot about the show without even having watched it.

And then, I watched it. And seriously, wow. Maybe it's because I ran through all of the available episodes of the rebooted series in the course of a month, but that show hit me like a sledgehammer, and a lot of that has to do with the feeling it has, the ambience it creates and how different that is from what I find in so much science fiction--and how much that has to do with the character of the Doctor.

Hard science fiction fans are probably not too satisfied with Doctor Who. The science--which involves a lot of "because we can!" time-and-space travel that isn't even always used consistently within the show's universe (although I'm always far too engrossed to realize this until much later)--isn't really the show's point. The point, as the title might suggest, would be the Doctor. (Tip: his name isn't actually "Doctor Who," and if that phrase is heard, it's usually in response to him introducing himself simply as "the Doctor," which is the only proper name we ever get for him.)

The thing about Doctor Who is that it approaches space, the future, and all of the things you would expect from a science fiction series, with a lot of faith in humanity, even if it is also capable of showing that humanity often doesn't deserve it. The Doctor himself, despite belonging to an alien race called the Time Lords, looks exactly like a human being (although when humans have questioned him about this more than once his answer has been that he doesn't look human, they look Time Lord). But it's more than that. He spends a lot of time on Earth, simply because it seems that he's taken a liking to us--when he says "I'll never stop having to save you," it's equal parts frustration and affection. He believes in the kinds of days when problems are solved without violence--when everybody lives--and he's not the sci-fi hero who goes in with guns blazing. His "weapon" of choice is a sonic screwdriver, and while its powers seems to expand with each new season, most of what it does is open doors! I wholeheartedly agree with Craig Ferguson's sentiment (delivered in song!) that the show represents "the triumph of intellect and romance over brute force and cynicism," and most of that is down to the continued presence of the Doctor, doing his best to save the worlds one step at a time.

I could go on and on about the Doctor, but nothing that I say about this show will take the place of watching it. So, what are you waiting for -- go watch it! If I haven't quite convinced you, or if you're looking for a little more background before jumping in, you should check out this article, or this excellent infographic. But really, just go and watch it, so that I can dissect future episodes to an audience who knows what I'm talking about!

Alien Appreciation: The 456 of Torchwood: Children of Earth

People of more discerning taste than I possess occasionally complain about the production values and special effects budget of BBC's sci-fi shows, including Doctor Who and its spin-offs. Being one of those people who appreciates less-than-top-dollar effects in sci-fi movies and shows ranging from the original Star Wars trilogy to the best of the X-Files, I can't really understand these complaints. I do realize that the Doctor Who producers don't have all that much cash to create their effects, or consequently their aliens, but although sometimes they seem to overreach themselves and produce some truly questionable costumes or effects, occasionally, they get it right.

The 456 are an example of "getting it right" -- which, in the context of Torchwood: Children of Earth, translates as "generating maximum terror on a minimum budget." From the first episode of this miniseries, when the 456 decide to get the attention of the entire world by simultaneously speaking through all of earth's children, I was suitably freaked, but my genuine horror at this alien race was only heightened by the decision to never show a clear image of their form. They appear inside a specially-designed tank in a pillar of blinding light. The tank itself is filled with toxic gases through which alien forms can only be vaguely seen, and the cinematography makes these glimpses appear even more brief by only focusing on the 456 for brief moments, switching camera angles quickly and preventing the audience from ever getting a clear idea of what the 456 look like. The audience never even learns their true name -- they are called "the 456" after the radio frequency they first used to contact the Earth.

Another part of the terror comes from the perfectly-pitched juxtaposition between their obscured but alien appearance and their clear and familiar method of expression. For although they might seem so incredibly otherworldly, they communicate with the British government by taking over a speaker system and reproducing a normal, human voice...when they're not thrashing about looking like some indiscernible hydra and spewing a vomit-like green liquid at the inside of the tank.

Again, I don't think there's a better way to have represented these aliens -- or really any aliens that are supposed to induce this kind of fear. The fear of any alien obviously stems from the fear of the unknown, but Torchwood takes it one step further and makes the 456 not only the ultimate unknown, but the ultimate unknowable. The pervasive despair of Children of Earth is that humanity is up against a foe so strange, so different, that even all of our faith in knowledge as a form of power cannot overcome the primal dread for the murky or dark.

Of course, later on in the Torchwood miniseries, the viewers are offered a closer look at the 456 -- but the same camera techniques are used, the same spirit of juxtaposition prevails, and the same sickening feeling of fear has a tendency to worm its way through my stomach. I'd say more, but in the words of another Whoniverse regular, "Spoilers!" If you want to get a real feeling for the strangeness of the 456, watch Torchwood: Children of Earth, although I'd suggest watching Series 1 and 2 of Torchwood first, and then making sure that you watch Children of Earth with a friend, a fuzzy blanket, and an incredibly heartwarming movie cued up to counteract its gut-wrenching effects.