Orphan 55

I feel as if I’ve been punched in the face. Over and over again. And not by the arguably vexing sledgehammer message at the close of Orphan 55, sure to get some folks’ backs up, but by the relentless onslaught of this frenetic, pounding narrative, directed with so much energy and pace by Lee Haven Jones that it leaves one gasping for breath.

The speed at which this manic story unfolds does two things: one good, one bad. To take the former first, the relentlessness papers over multiple cracks in the plotting and characterisation – the improbability of a mother not recognising her daughter, the improbability of a father going off to fix the mechanics seconds after losing his son to scary monsters, the running away from a working teleport to make the same journey on foot (oxygen rapidly deteriorating), the fact that two people commit noble self-sacrifices, one twice. I’m sure there are more crazy leaps in storytelling, not least having the entire cast piling into the vehicle to rescue Benni but so much happens in Orphan 55, at such a roller coaster lick, that it’s incredibly easy to shrug these oddities off. 

The latter problem though is that, amid the high-octane, wrought energy, moments of stillness don’t get the time they deserve. Like his other tale, It Takes You Away, Ed Hime seemingly wants to do creepy horror-movie after five minutes, but creepy horror-movies are slow, brooding and rely on an establishment of locale and character. He doesn’t give himself the time. The scenes in the steam room are almost there but with so much going on around them, there’s no respite for genuine tension. The moment when Benni asks someone to shoot him isn’t punctuated by character reaction because we’re swiftly shunted along to the next breakneck set-piece. Explanations too fall by the wayside or are made unclear in the freneticism: quite how the Doctor recognises the leading Dreg and quite why he is able to be locked in the cage is beyond me, however gripping those scenes might be.

Given its important message and gut-wrenching revelation in the tunnels, it’s a shame Orphan 55 doesn’t quite hold together on its own terms. Its message is a simple, robust one (Save The Planet), its plotting less so. Quite how Hime manages to give Tosin Cole’s Ryan some of his best material, as well as a true moment of dread for Graham when he realises Ryan is missing, I’m not sure. But the TARDIS crew really work here. There are some laugh-out-loud Doctor moments (the spam gag) and Mandip Gill shows signs that she is quietly the best actor of the four and it would be lovely to see her given something really meaty to get her teeth into as Yaz. I have a feeling it’s coming. Once again, she seems to slightly mistrust the Doctor and I’m hoping the rest of the series digs deeper into this fertile dramatic seam.

I am still hugely excited by Doctor Who Series 12, after the lacklustre turn taken by Series 11 midway through. At times, this felt like a different show. There was nothing in Series 11 to match the pace of Orphan 55, no episode with quite so many ideas. Yes, it was muddled and illogical, but it was an action-adventure thriller, like Earthshock, like The Time of Angels, like The Satan Pit. If it were content enough being only that, I think it may even have come out all the better for it (given it some focus) but the fact that it had a message probably, despite its clunkiness, means that Orphan 55 finally is about something. Although it may seem childish, the lecture at the end is a simple call to arms from a writer shouting at the world. What’s notable here is that his bent is one of ingrained cynicism and that’s an unusual and stirring path for Doctor Who, a show usually so full of hope. Here is a worldful of neglectful parents, neglectful humans and an environment hounded by the literal dregs of humanity. Quite what Hime wants us to do, I’m not sure. Maybe even he doesn’t know but it’s a loud enough shout to make it impossible for a critic to ignore. In much the same way that regardless of the messy plot mechanics and the awkwardly attached lecture alongside the sometimes wild characterisation, one can’t help but enjoy this well-meaning, often frightening and breathless sucker punch of a run-around.  

8/10

JH