Russell T. Davies OBE FRSL is the man responsible for bringing Doctor Who back from oblivion in 2005. Not once, but twice. Wait, what?! Twice?
Twice!
Yes, twice. In my opinion, of course.
Spoilers lie ahead, so be warned.
The first time is well documented in history. Well known in the television industry for his writing work in children’s and then adult serials, Davies wrote his own pitch and lobbied the BBC until they finally gave in and Doctor Who reappeared once again in 2005, sporting the Ninth Doctor and Rose. The rest, as they say, is history.
Well it was up until the Thirteenth Doctor, anyway.
Yes, I’m a fan.
Let me explain my history with Doctor Who: I’ve been a fan of the show since I was very young. My dad used to sit me on his knee every Saturday (after the football results) and we would all watch Doctor Who together. So although I don’t remember the very early episodes, I was there and I did watch them! My earliest memory that I can recall was the Cybermen and First Doctor’s regeneration, when Hartnell became Troughton. (I also remember that the BBC used to screen repeats of The Prisoner before Doctor Who – Rover used to frighten me more than any Doctor Who monster!)
And so it went on, until Sylv and Soph toddled off into the sunset on 6th December 1989. I never ever missed an episode and even after the introduction of the videotape recorder, I still watched every episode live.
By that point (1989) we’d had 26 series of Doctor Who, two films (in Technicolor) starring Peter Cushing as Dr. Who, a series of books serialising the serials (a lot of series\als\ing) and some magazines. If you were lucky (and were reasonably affluent), you could get a limited amount of merchandise.
One more thing until we get to 2005. The 1996 Doctor Who film, starring Paul McGann as the Eighth Doctor. The film was better than I expected and it did spawn hope that maybe the series might continue, albeit through an American company. Plans didn’t materialise down this route and I thought Doctor Who was dead. At least on the telly.
My Saviour!
And then along came my Saviour in the form of Russell T Davies.
By 2004, I’d given up hope of anything ever materialising (ha ha) Doctor Who-wise. I didn’t even bother to search for it on the internet, I thought it was that dead. And then one day, up popped a news article informing me that Doctor Who was returning as a proper British-made serial , by the BBC, in 2005.
This is a huge understatement, but the joy of “my” Doctor Who properly coming back was immeasurable. And it really was joy, too. Police Box TARDIS, six-sided console, a companion – the noises, the music, the manner in which The Doctor acts, the throwbacks, the ever expanding canon. All the old stuff – and lots of new stuff too. Daleks (who doesn’t love a Dalek!) Cybermen, farting Slitheens. All down to Russell T.
That was a truly magnificent and significant event in 2005. And the joy continued through the Tenth, Eleventh and Twelfth Doctors. And then the Eighth Doctor was back – along with The War Doctor (and of course Daleks). And a 50th Anniversary! And Tom! Oh my giddy Aunt, as the Second Doctor would say.
The resurrection of my beloved Doctor Who in 2005 was an event that I as a fan cannot thank Russell T enough for. There are not enough words in the English Language to describe my gratitude that Russell T persisted and triumphed.
Happy, happy days.
So. I happily (very happily) toodled along through Russell T and The Grand Moff (Steven Moffat), though David Tennant, Matt Smith and Peter Capaldi, until the Thirteenth Doctor and Chris Chibnall’s first Series (11) in 2018.
[NB: I might cover my opinions about the Thirteenth Doctor et al in a bit more detail in another post.] Let’s just say that I was less than impressed with the Thirteenth Doctor’s era. I mean really, really dreadfully, less than impressed.
In fact, I really thought it was going to be the end of Doctor Who – not in the sense of it’s not being made any longer – but in the sense that I couldn’t actually watch my beloved programme any longer, as I just couldn’t bear to watch it.
It’s not that Jodie Whittaker is a bad actor, she absolutely isn’t. Or Chris Chibnall is a bad writer, he absolutely isn’t. There’s plenty of evidence to support those facts. However, for me (and I stress for me) Jodie Whittaker as the Thirteenth Doctor with Chris Chibnall as head writer and showrunner for Doctor Who just didn’t work. At all. Not in the slightest way. Even the Daleks couldn’t resurrect what I called “this total shite”.
And yet I kept watching. Watching it live, as usual. Just in case it got better. But it didn’t. It just got worse. But, like a crazed devotee, I kept watching, every single episode akin to self-torture, wishing the terrible ordeal will be over soon. Wishing that the Patrick Troughton “three year rule” is going to kick in soon.
And eventually it did. The announcement came that both Jodie and Chris were leaving their respective roles within the Doctor Who universe.
Then something wonderful happened.
Miracles DO happen!
It was announced that Russell T Davies would be taking over as the new showrunner for Doctor Who.
To say that this was the best news I’d ever heard is the world’s biggest understatement!! It means that sanity will be returned to madness. Abject joy.
And this exciting, wonderful news came before Jodie’s last outing as the Thirteenth Doctor in “The Power of the Doctor”.
Then “The Power of the Doctor” aired and something weird – and something wonderful – happened.
Something weird – it actually wasn’t too bad! It is an episode that I would watch again (the only one out of this period), but going on story(ish) and that outstanding performance from Sacha Dhawan as The Master, it was a lot less terrible than the others. Helped in no small way by the cameos from several Doctors, ex-companions and UNIT, of course (plus Daleks. Love Daleks!). Oh and Boney M.
Then at the very end of the episode, within the remaining seconds, the second “something wonderful” and the second “saving from oblivion” happened: Jodie Whittaker regenerated into David Tennant.
Russell T Davies is my saviour.