annabunches.net/_posts/media/2011-09-19-doctor-who-god-complex.html

---
layout: post
title: 'Doctor Who: The God Complex'
date: '2011-09-19T13:15:00.000-04:00'
author: Anna Wiggins
tags:
- Media
- The Curse of Fenric
- Seventh Doctor
- sexism
- Doctor Who
- Second Doctor
modified_time: '2013-10-22T11:19:51.597-04:00'
blogger_id: tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4209116010564764361.post-7103610123123124783
blogger_orig_url: http://www.stringofbits.net/2011/09/doctor-who-god-complex.html
---

<strong>Spoiler Warning</strong>. You know the drill.<br/><br/>Jekyll is a very dark series. It possesses Moffat's characteristic witty one-liners, and his characteristic brilliant building of dramatic tension. It even has a few moments that directly parallel some of the storytelling techniques Moffat has used in Doctor Who - in particular, the scene where Jekyll and Hyde talk to each other via video camera has echoes of the Doctor's conversation with Sally Sparrow in Blink.<br/><br/>But it's also very clearly not his best work - there are moments where the pacing lags significantly, and the story feels disjointed at times, especially in the early episodes. The latter portions of the series have their own problems, with enormous plot holes opening up beneath the narrative in a way that really gives it problems. For instance, Mrs. Utterson's motivations are never really clear, especially in light of Jackman's mother's assertion that 'Hyde is love'. And Tom's children being able to 'swap' is never really explored in a meaningful way; I'm not normally an advocate for Chekhovian minimalism, but that just feels sloppy. However, by that point the pacing has picked up enough to gloss over a lot of the plot holes, and with characteristic Moffat lines ('Trust me, I'm a psychopath' was especially brilliant) to distract us, the story manages to just barely hold itself together.<br/><br/>The ending, though, and by that I mean the final frame before the show cuts to black, was utterly terrifying. It was a clever subversion of what we expect in narrative; after we thought we were safe in the denouement, we're given a sudden jolt of adrenaline right as we cut to black. It takes away the feeling of satisfaction and leaves the audience with a slightly disappointed feeling. And it seems to do this very intentionally; I'm reminded of the similar subversive techniques I talked about in The Girl Who Waited. In fact,<br/><br/>Oh dear, I've reviewed the wrong series again, haven't I? Terribly sorry about that.<br/><br/>The God Complex has a very interesting relationship with fear.<br/><br/>I didn't expect Jekyll to be scary. So I urged my wife to watch it with me. And when it turned scary, I had to apologize to her, because she really dislikes scary television, and will be jumpy (and nightmare-prone) for days after a scary scene. It's why she doesn't watch Doctor Who. And she asked me why anyone would want to watch things that are meant to scare them.<br/><br/>And the answer to that question parallels some of the elements in this story. Basically: we watch scary things because it lets us master them. Television and film let us take our fears, reduce them to two dimensions - to a medium where we know they cannot touch us - and then face them. So what we're left with (those of us who like scary stories, anyway) is the adrenaline rush without the real terror, and a sense of elation and power. We can practice being brave without any real danger. And when we're done, we can leave the scary stuff behind, safe in the Land of Fiction. And we can laugh at it, and joke about it, and reduce it thereby. (Of course, it's never really gone. The Dark is always scary, and always real, and stories are just a lie we tell ourselves to feel better)<br/><br/>In The God Complex, we have a creature that takes the thing we're most afraid of, and confronts us with it. But unlike most stories that start out with that premise, this creature doesn't feed on our fear, it feeds on our faith, on the things we fall back on to make ourselves feel brave. It takes the very reason we watch scary stories and perverts it, and devours us. This is what makes the jagged transitions between the linear narrative and scenes of the victims laughing and screaming so effective.<br/><br/>This link to television is echoed in the repeated use of black-and-white camera feeds throughout the story. This feels very much like the Second Doctor, with his penchant for staring out of cameras and right at the viewer. The feeling is especially strong in the scene where the Doctor is talking to Rita.<b
Import blogger data. 2016-04-11 22:01:00 +00:00			`---`
			`layout: post`
			`title: 'Doctor Who: The God Complex'`
			`date: '2011-09-19T13:15:00.000-04:00'`
			`author: Anna Wiggins`
			`tags:`
			`- Media`
			`- The Curse of Fenric`
			`- Seventh Doctor`
			`- sexism`
			`- Doctor Who`
			`- Second Doctor`
			`modified_time: '2013-10-22T11:19:51.597-04:00'`
			`blogger_id: tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4209116010564764361.post-7103610123123124783`
			`blogger_orig_url: http://www.stringofbits.net/2011/09/doctor-who-god-complex.html`
			`---`

			<strong>Spoiler Warning</strong>. You know the drill.<br/><br/>Jekyll is a very dark series. It possesses Moffat's characteristic witty one-liners, and his characteristic brilliant building of dramatic tension. It even has a few moments that directly parallel some of the storytelling techniques Moffat has used in Doctor Who - in particular, the scene where Jekyll and Hyde talk to each other via video camera has echoes of the Doctor's conversation with Sally Sparrow in Blink.<br/><br/>But it's also very clearly not his best work - there are moments where the pacing lags significantly, and the story feels disjointed at times, especially in the early episodes. The latter portions of the series have their own problems, with enormous plot holes opening up beneath the narrative in a way that really gives it problems. For instance, Mrs. Utterson's motivations are never really clear, especially in light of Jackman's mother's assertion that 'Hyde is love'. And Tom's children being able to 'swap' is never really explored in a meaningful way; I'm not normally an advocate for Chekhovian minimalism, but that just feels sloppy. However, by that point the pacing has picked up enough to gloss over a lot of the plot holes, and with characteristic Moffat lines ('Trust me, I'm a psychopath' was especially brilliant) to distract us, the story manages to just barely hold itself together.<br/><br/>The ending, though, and by that I mean the final frame before the show cuts to black, was utterly terrifying. It was a clever subversion of what we expect in narrative; after we thought we were safe in the denouement, we're given a sudden jolt of adrenaline right as we cut to black. It takes away the feeling of satisfaction and leaves the audience with a slightly disappointed feeling. And it seems to do this very intentionally; I'm reminded of the similar subversive techniques I talked about in The Girl Who Waited. In fact,<br/><br/>Oh dear, I've reviewed the wrong series again, haven't I? Terribly sorry about that.<br/><br/>The God Complex has a very interesting relationship with fear.<br/><br/>I didn't expect Jekyll to be scary. So I urged my wife to watch it with me. And when it turned scary, I had to apologize to her, because she really dislikes scary television, and will be jumpy (and nightmare-prone) for days after a scary scene. It's why she doesn't watch Doctor Who. And she asked me why anyone would want to watch things that are meant to scare them.<br/><br/>And the answer to that question parallels some of the elements in this story. Basically: we watch scary things because it lets us master them. Television and film let us take our fears, reduce them to two dimensions - to a medium where we know they cannot touch us - and then face them. So what we're left with (those of us who like scary stories, anyway) is the adrenaline rush without the real terror, and a sense of elation and power. We can practice being brave without any real danger. And when we're done, we can leave the scary stuff behind, safe in the Land of Fiction. And we can laugh at it, and joke about it, and reduce it thereby. (Of course, it's never really gone. The Dark is always scary, and always real, and stories are just a lie we tell ourselves to feel better)<br/><br/>In The God Complex, we have a creature that takes the thing we're most afraid of, and confronts us with it. But unlike most stories that start out with that premise, this creature doesn't feed on our fear, it feeds on our faith, on the things we fall back on to make ourselves feel brave. It takes the very reason we watch scary stories and perverts it, and devours us. This is what makes the jagged transitions between the linear narrative and scenes of the victims laughing and screaming so effective.<br/><br/>This link to television is echoed in the repeated use of black-and-white camera feeds throughout the story. This feels very much like the Second Doctor, with his penchant for staring out of cameras and right at the viewer. The feeling is especially strong in the scene where the Doctor is talking to Rita.<b