The Rise and Rise of Steven Moffat: Exhibit #4

Concluding the wondrous catalogue of the varying achievements of Steven Moffat.

Chapter Four: The Christmas Specials

Having broken Steven Moffat’s time on Doctor Who down into three distinct “eras” – his time with Russell T Davies, the Matt Smith and the Peter Capaldi years - there is one other area of the programme in which he has no doubt completely excelled: his stories for Christmas.  

Perhaps surprisingly, Moffat has written a mammoth eight episodes broadcast on Christmas Day. To his eternal credit, each one is quite vividly different. For reference, they are listed below.

A Christmas Carol
The Doctor, The Widow and the Wardrobe
The Snowmen
The Time of the Doctor
Last Christmas
The Husbands of River Song
The Return of Doctor Mysterio
Twice Upon a Time

His first, A Christmas Carol, is a work of profound beauty. It exudes an atmosphere, not unlike Logopolis, Earthshock or Midnight. There is a Tim Burton-esque darkness and gloom, spattered with occasional moments of brief, melancholic happiness. Even the final shot of Kazran and Abigail joyfully riding over the camera in their flying shark is tinged by the fact that this is their last day together. Michael Gambon puts in a bravura performance, his fragility and sadness almost always threatening to puncture his fierce temper. Matt Smith has also reached the moment in his time as the Doctor when he is just starting to feel confident – he whizzes through scenes breezily but still has the clarity of his first fluttering (and best) year at the TARDIS helm. Most superb of all though is the time travel plot from Steven Moffat, used like his best work, to break our hearts. A Christmas Carol is a beautiful, beautiful thing and deserves to be up there in the list of Greatest Doctor Who Stories of All Time.

The Doctor, the Widow and the Wardrobe has an abominable reputation, loitering in the bottom of fan polls like an unwelcome smell. Divorced from its context however, viewed in complete isolation, it’s a rather lovely little story. We’d just had the mind-bending, perhaps over-complicated Series 6 and by comparison this Christmas Special seemed simplistic and arguably a little saccharine. It does contain much darkness though, the Doctor’s “because they’re going to be sad later” moment always sends a chill up my spine. It’s got an audacious and terrifically well-directed pre-titles sequence and the whole business with the Doctor’s jazzing up the house is extremely funny. Yes, the plot is linear and on occasions a little slow but for the most part, if the wind’s in the right direction and you’re feeling a little bit joyous, Widow is tremendous entertainment.

The Snowmen is another sure-fire hit. The Great Intelligence returns to plague the Doctor with its snowmen-creatures at Christmas; even a brief description like this marks it out as a classic. It looks sumptuous, the design and costumes rich and elaborate. The sequences with the invisible ladder leading up to a TARDIS nestled in a cloud are the stuff of sheer poetry, my boy.  Jenna Coleman hits it off immediately with Matt Smith and the new, sparkly titles are the icing on the cake. For the first time since 1989, the Doctor’s face flies at us through the vortex! If only the title were just a little less meh…

The Time of the Doctor attempts the impossible: In one hour, Moffat ties up all the dangling threads from the Matt Smith era, details the story of the war on Trenzalore and delivers a snowy, Christmassy joi-de-vivre to boot, as well as saying goodbye to Matt Smith and including Daleks, Sontarans, wooden Cybermen and weeping angels. It doesn’t quite pack the same punch as the Christopher Eccleston or David Tennant farewells, but it never feels like it’s in competition. Time tells its own tale. It is brim-full of spectacle and incident and as the apotheosis to the story of the crack in time, feels epic. For a moment, 50 minutes in, there is the sudden realisation that we may not see the Doctor as he once was ever again, that perhaps we’ve missed the moment he stopped being a “young” Matt Smith. If Moffat had followed through with that and had an older version of the Doctor regenerate at the story’s conclusion, the story might harbour a better reputation. If those boots which step up the TARDIS stairwell had belonged to Peter Capaldi, the ending may have knocked everyone for six.

Last Christmas is another delight. It’s atmospheric, frightening and intense, as well as frothy and joyous. For the most part though, it’s a deeply sad tale of lives not lived. The ghost of Danny Pink looms over proceedings and even the staff of the polar base are leading lives far less interesting - and in some cases more tragic - than those they have dreamt about in the Arctic Circle. Even Santa is sinister, oppressive and unreal. This is the darkest of Christmas specials but still finds time for a punch-the-air sleigh ride. In the end, it is a story about reconciliation: Clara with the Doctor, Shona with Dave, the viewer with Santa Claus. It represents the very idea of Christmas. 

The Husbands of River Song is never talked about. But it’s brilliant. A majestic screwball comedy for three quarters of its runtime, followed by an ancient sense of sadness at its conclusion. This is one of Peter Capaldi’s greatest performances – just watch him throughout. There’s the cheeky scene where he throws River’s words back at her, teasing her like a good ol’ flirt. There’s the tragic stillness with which he plays the final scene: as River gawps at the singing towers, he watches her quietly, lizard-like in the background. There’s the sudden admission that “None of that is worth you!” and his first giggling scene after two years - at the hands of an angry bag. There is so much to love about Husbands. There’s a spaceship crashing. There’s a stupid robot that tells people to “Chill.” There’s the line, “Well you were being annoying.” It’s so much fun and if it had been Steven Moffat’s last script, it would have been a perfect ending for him, the Doctor and Professor River Song.

The Return of Doctor Mysterio is a lightweight knockabout episode in the style of Christopher Reeves’s Superman. The Doctor makes a traditionally chaotic entrance, accidentally creating a superhero who will eventually save the day. It’s light and fluffy with not all that much going on. In fact, it’s perhaps Moffat’s least inspired script full stop. One more Christmas special? Oh go on then, we’ve not done the superhero film yet. Unfortunately, Doctor Who cannot strive to be a superhero film for 2016 given its budget, so it instead settles on one from the 1970s. I’m not sure anyone was asking for the show to do this. However, characteristically, there remain moments of laugh out loud comedy, inspired plotting, scares and a brilliant monster. There are also some neat lines: when Lucy asks Grant to put his costume back on, it’s a real moment of joy.

Lastly, Twice Upon a Time swings by. It’s an odd, indulgent beast. One last hurrah. The First Doctor, Lethbridge-Stewart and Rusty: it’s made up of the things Steven Moffat clearly loves. And although it might be occasionally plodding and seriously lacking in peril, that love does seem to permeate the production. There’s a real sense of finality and reverence from everyone involved. Mark Gatiss is so keen to deliver his finest performance. Peter Capaldi is awe-inspiring. Directorially, it’s got a strange and rich atmosphere. But that last speech, after a journey across eight Christmases, says it all. The Doctor and Steven’s final message to the world and fandom: Be Kind. What a lovely way to end it all.

Steven Moffat’s record with Christmas specials is dazzling. Even The Royle Family can’t manage a decent one. Lovejoy always ran off to Prague and Only Fools and Horses had fun in Amsterdam and Margate. But Moffat’s writing seems to be the perfect fit for a tale to snuggle up to at home, warm the heart and remember those we’ve lost. There is a charm to his Christmas scripts, a warmth and cosiness that was sometimes lacking in RTD’s specials, and a sting in the tale too, whether that be a regeneration or a death or in some cases, like those of Kazran Sardick and The Twelfth Doctor, a profound sadness. Moffat encapsulates the ambivalence of Christmas but above all else its joy. Even with the Twelfth Doctor dying, there’s time for a World War One Armistice Day. If there are any scripts to sum up just what Steven Moffat has done for our beloved show, it’s his Christmas Specials. They and he sing.

The End

JH