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
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