By Matt Dale
This article was originally written in 2017 for Celestial Toyroom’s 2018 annual, still available here.
Where should one begin when reviewing these episodes?
Well, that’s rather the point now, isn’t it? For a story that begins in the middle, moves back to the start (while simultaneously communicating with the middle) before the start catches up with the end, Under the Lake/Before the Flood structures itself like a Chinese Puzzle Box. Or, indeed, a certain well-known scene from Red Dwarf. One could well ask of the layout of this episode: “so what is it?”
While writer Toby Whithouse does an excellent job using time travel to create a foundation, it is ultimately just that: the foundation. The characters are what bring this piece to life, demonstrating in a very believable way the fear, excitement, fun and anger at the world the Doctor has introduced them to. Doctor Who doesn’t always hit the mark in this regard, but here Whithouse and a talented group of guest performers do so admirably.
Morven Christie’s excitable O’Donnell and Arsher Ali’s more wary Bennett mirror each other extremely well, each displaying elements that any new companion should go through. While O’Donnell’s positivity perhaps reflects a lot of companions that have been before (providing some redundancy in Clara’s presence), in Bennett we see some of the more down-to-earth qualities we haven’t really seen since Ian and Barbara, and which Pearl Mackie’s Bill would bring the following season. Sophie Stone and Zaqi Ismail, meanwhile, make an effective double-act, each showing both strength and vulnerability in equal measure (the former primarily in the form of her disability). The two feel like such a natural fit throughout that, even without any direct hints of romantic interest in the script, the conclusion there feels natural, welcome and not at all surprising. The fact that Lunn’s declaration is signed affords us the additional benefit of being able to focus on the performances in Stone’s and Ismail’s faces, which enables it hit home even harder.
And in an episode well-known for casting Doctor Who’s first deaf actress, we ironically benefit from three of the most unique and memorable voices around today: Famously gravelly Peter ‘Darth Maul’ Serafinowicz giving it his all as the main voice of the Fisher King, ably supported by the unearthly screams of Slipknot frontman Corey Taylor. Now, who are we kidding here? Taylor’s casting is a pure gimmick – the sound is nothing Serafinowicz couldn’t do himself with the aid of some digital manipulation – but what a fun gimmick… albeit it’s hard to imagine a ratings boost via hardened Slipknot fans sitting down with a cup of tea to enjoy Before the Flood just to keep their sensitive ears listening out for their hero. As a bonus, with apparently no sense of irony whatsoever, Colin McFarlane (booming, terrifying voice of ITV gameshow The Cube), dies before he gets the chance to demand “sounds easy, doesn’t it?” and spends the next 90 minutes mouthing silently. Insanely genius casting of one of this decade’s top vocal talents.
Perhaps the most memorable “star” of the show may be the twist at the end. The Bootstrap Paradox is one well known to sci-fi aficionados, but often unpopular with those who like their plotlines to have a clear and simple resolution (many of whom probably switched off part-way through the Moffat era anyway). Like trying to visualise infinity, time travel paradoxes can generally only be understood after several drinks, accompanied with a knowing nod and an “aaaah” shortly before passing out. Personally, I’m not a fan. Frankly, if future-Matt had travelled back in time to warn past-Matt that the resolution to this story hinged on it, past-Matt might never have watched it, leading future-Matt to never have existed in the first place to warn past-Matt to perhaps give it a miss, and present-Matt would have wound up watching it, so it all would have been OK.
Where was I?
Ah, paradoxes. In this case, Whithouse deftly glosses over the twist, using it to provide a “wibbly wibbly timey wimey” conclusion, and an excuse for some wonderful fourth-wall breaking work from Capaldi, all moving too fast to really question it too much. Paradoxes are, for many, frustrating things, but we don’t dwell on it enough here to draw attention to it. It’s fun and humorous, and before we know it the end credits are rolling. On the topic of that to-camera work from our lead, it’s interesting to note that this hasn’t been attempted within the confines of a regular episode since Hartnell gave a famous Christmas message all those years ago; at the end of a celebratory episode on a day where the viewing family may be a touch tipsy, this was a bit of fun. Here, placed at the top of the episode, it’s a bold move which frankly most of Peter’s predecessors would have failed to pull off. Bravo, Mr C, for making this seem so completely natural. Your guitar-playing talents never go amiss either.
Another element not dwelled on for long but hugely memorable, is the comic moment with the emotional cue cards. Giving Capaldi the chance to display the Doctor’s alien-ness in a way that’s rarely happened post-2005 (see Thin Ice for another big New Series moment, again with the latest incarnation, where Bill is introduced to the Doctor’s otherworldliness via a shouting match about the latter’s seemingly cold reaction to death), it’s funny, adorable, and provides some cute Doctor/Clara interplay that’s often missing from this season.
For me, these two episodes make me feel simultaneously safe and terrified. The terror is obvious: Not only the ghosts themselves, but the repeated words they silently utter. They play on our fears of being unable to communicate clearly (in particular when faced with an antagonist); for those of us that aren’t deaf, Cass is also a constant reminder of this. Certainly one of the more imaginative, yet also simple, enemies this season. So why safe? Quite because of the number of familiar tropes Whithouse pulls upon when weaving this tale..: Characters watching earlier versions of themselves remind us of Father’s Day (not to mention the film that did it best of all: Back to the Future Part II), the Fisher King gets to rasp a “Time… Lord!” in keeping with some of the best and cheesiest classic series villains, and the story as a whole is in its Troughtonesque element one of the basiest-under-segiest of the Moffat era. This is far more than just box-ticking though, as the familiar elements add up to something much greater than the sum of its parts. Terrifying, yet safe in its recognisability, Under the Lake/Before the Flood becomes an instant classic.
Which just leaves one question: Who really wrote this review?
- The Time Traveller
