Doctor Who
I've recently begun watching Doctor Who. I am not sure why I have been so reluctant about this for so long. Well, actually I do know why. I remember seeing parts of episodes of the show when I was a kid, and I remember being terribly frightened for one reason or another. That fright was switched to derision as I got older, because though I remembered the fear, I also remembered the infantile special effects and that silly robotic dog. So, I rejected the idea of the show. Until now.
And now, I find myself still rejecting. Not the show, which I love, but the changes that the show tries to make me accept. I love Eccleston as The Doctor. When he regenerates, I rejected Tennant as the new Doctor. But then, I grew to love him, too. And then the show had to go and break my heart by ripping The Doctor and Rose apart.
When I say it broke my heart, I may be slightly exaggerating, but I did have a strong visceral reaction to the final episode of season 2. There was shouting and tears involved. What can you do. I realized I should just get on with it, so I immediately started with episode 1 of season 3. But, my emotions said, "Not so fast, chickaby" because when Catherine Tate's character grabs Rose's shirt (or jacket?) and The Doctor's face shows such loss and grief, I clicked off my Netflix. Too much.
But, now I'm sitting here wondering at my reaction. Is the show just that good? Or do I relate to it on a different level? I tend to think that I handle change quite well, but I have not been open to change in this show, at least not immediately.
When Rose leaves the show, I feel crestfallen for The Doctor. He lives a life in which he can't really become attached to anyone, because they will always part from him. His is a lonely existence. The reason I bring this up is because it has been so difficult for me to make friends in my "new" place. (After living somewhere for two years, can I still consider it new?) I'm not quite lonely. My daughter is excellent company, and I've become friendly with a few people, though I don't really consider any of them "real" friends, the type that I could call to chat or make plans with without much effort. This does cause me to worry that I will become lonely if I stay where I'm living for much longer. I wonder if The Doctor's situation brings up these fears that I don't really address too often, because I can't move until I find a job, so I figure, why dwell on something that is a concern, in my opinion, only if I remain where I am living. It is a small, isolating place. With a population of about 5000, people who live there know each other their entire lives and do not tend to make new friends, so that leaves me on the outside, something that I am currently okay with because I view it as a temporary situation. I do occasionally think, though, about the (hopefully slight) possibility that I may not find a job elsewhere and will be stuck in this situation, which would indeed be lonely. Maybe this is why I focus so much on The Doctor's situation and feel for him in his isolation.
As for love, the love between The Doctor and Rose is never fully explained nor is it made obvious, but it's there, and it's something that I love about the show. You see an evolution in the characters due to their relationship. One gains heart (I would say humanity, but that would only be in one definition of the word --compassion-- and not the other, because so many of the humans on the show are so not worthy of that definition.) and the other gains a real reason for living, and they both learn how to live with joy. It is gut-wrenching when The Doctor misses out on his chance to tell Rose that he loves her. That said, I'm not entirely certain that I entirely believe in love, though I did many years ago, and watching Doctor Who has made me question if I miss believing in it...
And now, I find myself still rejecting. Not the show, which I love, but the changes that the show tries to make me accept. I love Eccleston as The Doctor. When he regenerates, I rejected Tennant as the new Doctor. But then, I grew to love him, too. And then the show had to go and break my heart by ripping The Doctor and Rose apart.
When I say it broke my heart, I may be slightly exaggerating, but I did have a strong visceral reaction to the final episode of season 2. There was shouting and tears involved. What can you do. I realized I should just get on with it, so I immediately started with episode 1 of season 3. But, my emotions said, "Not so fast, chickaby" because when Catherine Tate's character grabs Rose's shirt (or jacket?) and The Doctor's face shows such loss and grief, I clicked off my Netflix. Too much.
But, now I'm sitting here wondering at my reaction. Is the show just that good? Or do I relate to it on a different level? I tend to think that I handle change quite well, but I have not been open to change in this show, at least not immediately.
When Rose leaves the show, I feel crestfallen for The Doctor. He lives a life in which he can't really become attached to anyone, because they will always part from him. His is a lonely existence. The reason I bring this up is because it has been so difficult for me to make friends in my "new" place. (After living somewhere for two years, can I still consider it new?) I'm not quite lonely. My daughter is excellent company, and I've become friendly with a few people, though I don't really consider any of them "real" friends, the type that I could call to chat or make plans with without much effort. This does cause me to worry that I will become lonely if I stay where I'm living for much longer. I wonder if The Doctor's situation brings up these fears that I don't really address too often, because I can't move until I find a job, so I figure, why dwell on something that is a concern, in my opinion, only if I remain where I am living. It is a small, isolating place. With a population of about 5000, people who live there know each other their entire lives and do not tend to make new friends, so that leaves me on the outside, something that I am currently okay with because I view it as a temporary situation. I do occasionally think, though, about the (hopefully slight) possibility that I may not find a job elsewhere and will be stuck in this situation, which would indeed be lonely. Maybe this is why I focus so much on The Doctor's situation and feel for him in his isolation.
As for love, the love between The Doctor and Rose is never fully explained nor is it made obvious, but it's there, and it's something that I love about the show. You see an evolution in the characters due to their relationship. One gains heart (I would say humanity, but that would only be in one definition of the word --compassion-- and not the other, because so many of the humans on the show are so not worthy of that definition.) and the other gains a real reason for living, and they both learn how to live with joy. It is gut-wrenching when The Doctor misses out on his chance to tell Rose that he loves her. That said, I'm not entirely certain that I entirely believe in love, though I did many years ago, and watching Doctor Who has made me question if I miss believing in it...



