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Since the Ponds were Weeping Angelled back
into the past, the Doctor has decided he’s done with humanity. No more playing its guardian, no more sweeping in to save the day, and certainly no more
bowties. Instead, he’s going to live alone in the clouds above Victorian
London, with a (totally amazing)
group of oddballs his only connection to the world. Which is where the Great
Intelligence, snow that can remember and a familiar-looking barmaid come into
play…
The Doctor Who Christmas Special is a
strange beast. Coming as they usually do between seasons, they often end up
having to deal with the aftermath of a huge end-of-season event (like the
Doctor’s regeneration or a companion exit), as well as having to be a standalone
episode that appeals to a casual Christmas Day viewer. Add in the
apparent need to make it more festive than a cocktail of Shloer, turkey and the
Queen’s speech, and you’ve got a difficult balance to get right. A lot of
Whovians aren’t particularly fond of the Christmas specials, although I
generally quite like them myself; I’m a total sucker for a bit of blatant
emotional manipulation at Christmas, so I usually go with it against my better
judgement. Apart from ‘Voyage of the Damned’. Even I could not deal with that.
But ‘The
Snowmen’ was an entirely different kettle of fish. Sure, it still had more
sentimentality than you could shake a stick at, but it had a scarier edge to it
than previous festive outings. And significantly (perhaps because it comes in
the middle of season 7 rather than at the end of a series) Steven Moffat chose to immerse it more deeply in the
continuity of the series as a whole, rather than making it more standalone; the
events of this episode are intimately connected to what came before, and will
have an impact on what comes after, making it significant and enthralling for the average Doctor Who nut.
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The whole
idea of the killer snow that can think was pretty brilliant (taking something familiar and making it scary was pure Moffat, as was the image of the TARDIS on a cloud with a windy staircase leading up to it) and snow’s
sinister plot was given life and class by the inimitable Richard E Grant. He
delivered exactly what you’d expect from Richard E Grant as a Doctor Who villain: creepiness,
creepiness, and then a whole lot more creepiness. Simeon really came into his own when faced with the Doctor; the man who had his childhood
stolen by an evil snowman, going toe-to-toe with the eternally young Time Lord. As great and all as Grant was, though, the Doctor's ragtag group of mates outshone him for me. Madame Vastra, Jenny and Strax made
such a brilliantly fabulous temporary team of companions for the Doctor, I
almost can’t bear it. Pretty much all his exchanges with Strax were comedy
gold, from the memory worm to the Sherlock Holmes banter (“I’m the clever one
and you’re the potato one”) and “Sir, do not noogie me during combat prep.” And
Madame Vastra and Jenny made themselves pretty useful, too, particularly in
their stand-off with Dr Simeon (“I resent your implication of impropriety! We
are married.”) and the spine-tingling “one word” scene. Hopefully we’ll be
seeing a lot more of this trio; maybe some sort of spin-off sitcom. (Note to
self: copyright this idea, then tweet to Steven Moffat.)
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© BBC; Image credit: bbc.co.uk
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But of
course, all we really care about when
it comes down to it is Clara Oswin Oswald. And what a (second) entrance it was
for her. Jenna Louise Coleman really lit up all the scenes she was in, matching
Matt Smith with every look and every line. She even made the governess-in-the-country scenes
work, saving them from the very real danger that they were going to drown in tweeness (I love you,
Liz White and Tom Ward, but this was not some of your best work). Clara’s
sparkiness made her a great match for the Doctor, and I absolutely loved the moment where she paused,
cleared her throat and delivered the perfect exit line to the ice governess. And
wasn’t Matt Smith on fine form? All the notes of the Doctor here, from loneliness, to his growing engagement, then his desperation at the loss of Clara and delight that he might be able to find her again, were all pitched perfectly by Smith; the look on his beautiful face when he realises he's put his bowtie on again made me want to weep tears of pure joy. And his lightness of touch allowed the comedy of the episode to be engaging without becoming annoying. The scene where he plays Sherlock Holmes (“Shut
up, I’m making deductions. It’s very exciting!”) could have gotten lost in a
hole of self-reference, but Smith made it work. Because he's, you know, amazing.
My main problem was the denouement of the episode, where it the world was saved by the tears of a family crying at Christmas. Like I said, I can deal with a great deal of sentimentality, but that really was too much even for me. Thankfully, it was undercut by the death of Clara, and the Doctor's too-late realisation of her true identity. Just the repetition of the line "Run, you clever boy... and remember" sent shivers down my spine. Oh Clara Oswin Oswald, I think I might love you already.
And Dougray Scott in the next series? I am so there, my friends. So there.
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