The Clock is Striking Twelve

I always warn you before spoilers, don’t I?

Well, if you haven’t seen Doctor Who season 8 episode 1, I have only one two things to say to you:

1.  WHAT WHY NOT
2.  Well, don’t come back until you do.

Last Saturday night, I sat in a dark room full of Whovians; the kind who get so excited that no one really cares that they’re slowly turning the back room of a Japanese novelty shop into a sauna.

It began with a girl dressed as a steampunk Dalek standing up to announce that the episode was beginning, and once it did, there would be no mercy on commentators. There was a murmur of assent from the viewers. The episode commenced. Not a peep was heard for over an hour, save the odd hushed “Awwww” or “ohmygoshohmygosh.”

It was glorious.

For many of you, I do not have to tell what happened in the episode.

Seeing it through strictly unfeeling eyes, it was the usual:

• Doctor offends people
• Clara stamps her foot
• SUBTEXT SUBTEXT
• Viewers are scared
• Characters are scared and then die
• Doctor voices some variant of “He/She/It was scared”
• SUUUBTEEEXT
• Hands are held
• Hugs are had
• Chips are consumed

But of course there was the one prominent difference:

The new Doctor.

This dork.

Look at him

Really look

Let me explain: Eleven was my Doctor. Under such circumstances, I thought it was going to take more than a shouty “I’M NOT FLIRTING BY THE WAY” directed at a rampaging dinosaur to win me over.

The Doctor wears his new face well. And hey, as far as the rest of you go, I understand (in theory) if he hasn’t grown on you yet. But just

Look at him.

No, I suppose that’s not what I mean. Don’t just look. The Doctor said it himself. See.

That moment killed me. In fact, I am actually writing to you at this moment from the mysterious fountain garden on the other side.

I’ve wanted to hug a lot of fictional characters before, but this moment must have topped the list. So of course they had to stab at that particular ventricle of my heart.

“I don’t think I’m a hugging person now.”

*Collective scoff from fandom*

But in any case, I didn’t come here to gush over the Twelfth Doctor.

While I did indeed come here to gush over the Twelfth Doctor, there are other Doctorial things to be addressed. Such as?

• SKIN BALLOON wHAT 
• How one little blow-torch droid set fire to an entire dinosaur
• The frankly alarming number of space ships skipping around replacing machinery with human remains (I had no idea this was such an epidemic)
• The umbrella woman in the weird afterlife fountain garden

Oh come on, what else am I supposed to call her?

Mediocre Fact: I actually had to Google “deep breath umbrella woman” to get anything like what I was looking for. I got a lot of weird artwork and one heroic bit of information that told me that the umbrella woman is actually called Missy.

The “Gatekeeper.”

Cool! If anything, I know less than I knew before.

I feed off of your speculation and inside knowledge; please, let me have it. I would absolutely love to discuss this episode with you. I mean, there it was after all, the excellent first episode of what looks to be a very promising season.

So, what do you think?

 

Let’s Talk About Captain America: The Winter Soldier

First, though, as a matter of course, we have to discuss how you should in no way be here if you haven’t seen the movie yet; that, however, is of secondary importance compared to the fact that you are sitting here, wasting time on the internet (of all places), when you could be wasting time watching Captain America: The Winter Soldier.

Come on. Where are your priorities?

Back to the matter at hand. If you’ve continued this far, you’ve seen the movie. So let’s talk.

Let’s talk about how this movie did the truly impossible thing and made me want to take up jogging. For at least three minutes. With Sam Wilson. On your left.

Let’s talk about,

“I have the exact same glasses.”

“You guys are practically twins.”

“Pff. I WISH.” 

Let’s talk about Natasha and Steve being one of my favorite on-screen brolationships to ever bro. And, obviously, we just have to talk about how “Public displays of affection make people very uncomfortable.”

“Yes, they do.”

Unfortunately, talking about it is easier said than done, as most things tend to be. I found that a lot of the emotions induced during the course of this movie aren’t of the efficiently explainable variety.

For example, instead of saying, “When Abed (Danny Pudi) made his cameo, I felt such an emotion that I felt as though my brain went completely offline as I gasped like someone drowning and smiled so largely that I gave myself the laughter lines of a ninety-year-old woman,” it would be much easier for me to simply go –  “ABED”

or “DR. ARNIM ZOLA”

or “I’M SORRY SITWELL, DID YOU JUST SAY ‘STEPHEN STRANGE’?”

or “I’M WITH YOU ‘TIL THE END OF THE LINE.”

I really do want to talk about that. Steve is known for never giving up in what he believes in, and he believes in his best friend Bucky – it was the only thing he could do for him.

“Not a perfect soldier, but a good man” has rarely been better displayed than it was in this superlatively well-made film, and it is one of the things that makes this movie so worth seeing, so worth talking about, and so very, very worth flailing about in your theater seat, disturbing the general peace, and very nearly jumping into your sister’s arms screaming during the post-credit scenes (this is a great way to bond, by the way).

Because you’ll wait for those scenes, right? Both of them?

Don’t you dare let me down.

Speaking of which, that’s the final thing that needs to be discussed here.

Know what? I want you to be there with me. Let me just take you on a little tour of my cozy corner of the theater last night, during the first post-credit scene.

*Men speak ominously in laboratory-like chambers*

*Ill-intentioned men speak of activating the twins*

*Camera pans to adjacent prison cells, one containing Wanda Maximoff and the other, her brother Pietro*

*Three years pass*

// So can we please talk about this movie?

“It’s a Three-[Episode] Problem.”

Today in America, Sherlock season three, episode two, airs officially for the first time.

Today in the UK, or for everyone who has successfully tricked their computers into thinking it is the UK, it’s just another day in the new age of Sherlock hiatus.

Nine episodes from 2010 to 2014…

And welcome back to the waiting room, everybody.

Anyhow, due to the unpredictable nature of the internet and its inhabitants, if you have not properly watched the whole series yet, chances are you’ve at least had some element of it spoiled for you.

If you have not, simply continue reading and I promise that you will.

(That was a warning to the spoiler-shy. Be gone with you.)

I’m not trying to run a review blog here (for lots of reasons), but I need to talk about these episodes. I can’t not talk about these episodes. However, after several years of knowing myself, I’m aware that my tendency to wax eloquent (some pretty words for “never shut up until banned from all forms communication”) will force any conversation of mine about Sherlock into the space of novels, rather than chapters.

To be fair, there’s just too much to talk about – the Moriarty-Mind-Asylum, Sherlock’s even-more-of-a-jerk-than-usual bit, Molly’s serious over-correction after getting over Sherlock (meat dagger?), Mycroft’s unrealistic weight loss expectations…

Anyway, to take it all down a bit for post form, I’ve decided to condense each Sherlock season three episode into a study on one sentence, then two, then three.

Because that’s how many episodes there are.

Just three.

(weeps quietly)

The Empty Hearse:

• So we actually never find out how he did it?

Fine, we got the most credible solution at the end – but not from the mouth of Sherlock so much as from the Sherlock-flavored mind of a severely cray-cray Anderson. Rude. I think Sherlock, of all people, would be able to disregard John’s little “I don’t care how you did it” speech (speak for yourself) and tell him anyway.

No artist can resist signing his work.

The Sign of Three:

• Choosing Sherlock as the best man is simultaneously the best and worst decision John has ever made.

I would pay good money to have someone (Sherlock) flip over the reception table mid-speech, go “Let’s play MURDER,” and then proceed to solve the crime of the uncomfortably tight mandated belts.

It’s also worth mentioning that this episode made me irrationally afraid of ever wearing my own belts ever again.

• TELL ME ABOUT THE ELEPHANT IN THE ROOM.

I NEED TO KNOW ABOUT THIS MORE THAN I NEED TO KNOW ABOUT BUDAPEST, FOR GOODNESS’ SAKE

His Last Vow:

• Magnussen made me want to sanitize everything I own.

Fantastic villain.

And by fantastic, I mean, utterly disgusting. However, a good friend of mine did critique the episode by saying she felt like she didn’t hate Magnussen enough.

I pretended to understand.

I don’t understand.

(And yes, I really should have that on a t-shirt)

• Oh sweet mother of pearl, Mary Watson, what the heck.

Surprise, everyone. I know that a lot of us were suspicious when Sherlock deduced her to be a liar in episode 1 (along with a number of other things identified by the Sherlock-vision floating deductions), but I definitely saw no words reading “crazy-pants assassin” flying around her pretty face.

• And in answer to the episode’s final question,

I present to you a short text-message exchange between a friend and I.

The Internet is Lava No More

Spoiler alert

This is not a drill

If you have not seen the Day of the Doctor, then run for the hills. (And then watch Day of the Doctor)

Now then.

Where were we?

Oh yes.

How many times did I die during that episode?

Twelve.

“No sir! … Thirteen.”

DO YOU GET IT

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAaa*cough*

Sorry. Review. Got it.

This moment right here represents a very real and present problem for me –

I love the idea of Peter Capaldi as the Doctor.

I do not love the idea of Matt Smith ever not being the Doctor.It’s a vicious cycle made up of emotional dependence on fictional people.

But this moment – this moment really was amazing. Thirteen doctors in one scene. Thirteen doctors in one season would have been impressive, let alone a thirty-second time slot with each Doctor helping teleport a planet. I admit, I’m not entirely sure how they made that work, but hey, it’s Doctor Who, and some things you just have to let happen.

Like how some guns are manufactured to shoot perfectly formed, perfectly spaced letters into a wall.

Sure, that’s a thing.

But these weren’t the only things worth mentioning in this episode. Every scene with more than one Doctor was absolutely stellar; to be perfectly honest, I felt like I was just reading some really, really fantastically well-written fanfiction.

Because this sort of thing doesn’t just happen in canon, does it?

APPARENTLY SO

I have to say, one of my favorite scenes was the three Doctors in the Tower of London together, 10, 11, and 8.5(?), discussing timey wimey and the mechanics of a wooden door.

And, of course, Clara.

actually figuring out the mechanics of a wooden door.

By the way, let’s talk about Clara. At this point in her life, she has already saved the Doctor’s life. Dashed herself into confetti versions of herself and spread them about the Doctor’s timeline to save every single Doctor. And in this episode, she saved Gallifrey.

Clara saved Gallifrey.

I mean, of course, the Doctor is the one[thirteen] who did the marvelous timey-wimey spacey-wacey thing that hid Gallifrey in some obscure pocket universe, but Clara convinced him to. Clara has saved not only the Doctor, but literally EVERY LIVING TIME LORD.

*slow clap*

Wait, while we’re already slow clapping, let’s add this scene to the list of slow-clap worthy moments.

*slow clap*

*accompanied by euphoric sobs and murmurings of “Gallifrey falls no more!”*

Before I close out, I must say, I liked 8.5 way more than I thought I would. I never thought I’d dislike him, but I certainly never expected him to be fantastic, and I was pleasantly surprised. And his victorious “Gallifrey stands!” stood up quite well to all the other Doctors’ catchphrases.

Speaking of new Doctors, if you’ve been downwind of the internet in the past forty-eight hours, you may have heard the calls for Kate Osgood (also known as Scarf Girl) to be the next companion of Peter Capaldi’s Doctor. They seem like they would make a charming pair, but with so little known about Twelve or Kate, maybe it’s too soon to speculate.

…

“too soon to speculate” she said to the Doctor Who fandom.

I’M KIDDING YOU GUYS

Go crazy with those speculations, I want to hear all of them.

And hey! *raises screwdriver*

Here’s to the hundredth anniversary!

*To Be Read in River Song’s Voice*

Spoilers.

Long before the word “spoilers” conjured up a mental image of one of my favorite time-traveling companions, it meant what is has always meant – foreknowledge of a subject that, as indicated, spoils it.

I’ve had far too much experience with this particular delight.

A lot of it was my fault, like the time I begged my sister to tell me why she was so depressed at the end of Mockingjay, or when I knowingly watched “Turn Left” from series four of Doctor Who before I even started season three.

Of course, spoiling has also just been due to unfortunate happenstances, such as when my sister and I tripped over some Doctor Who series seven plot points the day of the season premiere, and that one time when I accidentally did anything on the internet before reading The Fault in our Stars.

Seriously.

I still haven’t gotten around to reading that book, but, somehow, I can quote it for days.

All this to say, I don’t usually do enough to stay away from spoilers, what with the internet existing, and my priorities being all out of order. But a problem has arisen that requires me to play a little game I like to call “The Internet is Lava.”

If you had a childhood, you can probably guess how this game is played. Just for reference, it’s just ever so slightly less enticing than its eponymous schoolyard counterpart.

In any case, the problem that made this game necessary is as follows: I’m going to miss the Doctor Who 50th Anniversary episode. Now it’s not quite as bad as all that, I am still seeing it, as a theater in my town has graciously made it possible for me to see it three days later on Monday night.

I will be dressing up as Eleven and attending with my gorgeous friends Wasp and Invisible Woman, and my lovely [and tenaciously patient] mother. You could say I’m kind of excited.

I’m stupid excited.

But the fact remains that that is three days after every other fanboy and girl with BBC or BBCAmerica has seen it, reviewed it, gif-ed it, story-boarded it, and fanfic-ed it.

And for me, the internet, until that third day, will be a yawning pit of seductively available foreknowledge.

Dangerous thing, foreknowledge.

So between Saturday and Tuesday, I’m going radio silent as far as internet is concerned.

And when I get back, if the past is any indicator, you’ll know me from the all-caps declaration of how many times I died during the episode.

What about you all? Are viewing parties in the works, or is anyone else planning to play the internet is lava with me?