You cannot rewrite history — not one line! Except for those lines. You can go to town on them. But these ones, here, no sir. They are too different. You can’t tell, but I can.

Ah yes. The inevitably murky code of narrative logic that any show with time travel must abide by. Changing history is bad when it’s something from a textbook, a bit iffy when it’s some non-specific event in an otherwise well documented period, and perfectly alright if it happened on another planet, even if that planet existed before yours did. To make a hard and fast rule in any direction would make for some peculiar stories.

> I’m sorry, Martha. The Daleks invade in 2008. It’s just history, > we can’t change it. Did I mention it’s a matter of historical > record that everyone you love dies? It’s a new morality. Get used to it.

Or,

> This is World War II, Rose. Look into the heart of the TARDIS > and turn Hitler and his army to time-dust. It’s better this way.

What’s the solution? Humans rock, and our history rocks the best? History can tell if you’re messing up your own planet, or someone else? Everything seems awkward. But into this sea of confusion strides ‘The Fires of Pompeii’.¹ The answer is, somewhat unsurprisingly, the one I opened the review with; a somewhat underwhelming one on some levels. And yet, explaining that only the Doctor can see how history is supposed to be, and which bits can’t be changed, goes a long way to making him seem a lot more like a “lonely god”, and a lot less like a sulky teenager.

This weeks story is deceptively clever. The Doctor and Donna² land in Pompeii, just before things heat up, and various soothsayers are confounding expectations by actually predicting the future. At first, it looks like the central dilemma will be “why can’t we save these people” — and it is, for Donna — but the Doctor has his own little unexpected twist to deal with, and it’s a nifty one. Meanwhile, running about the place are some of the more fleshed out supporting characters we’ve seen in a while; Caecilius and his family.

The soothsayer face-off is the first really electrifying scene,³ but as we’re in Pompeii, you know you’re going to get at least one more rather awesome moment. Pleasingly, they’ve filled up the episode between with some rather good stuff. They’ve slipped some aliens into the mix, and they look like giant awesome flaming centurions. Donna gets captured, tied up, and almost sacrificed in a beautifully classic-Who style set piece. The Doctor fights a monster with a water pistol. There’s even an “isn’t the Doctor just so wonderful” moment that looked beautiful and didn’t stick in my craw at all.

But as we leave ancient Rome, I feel I need to offer Catherine Tait an apology. Not only am I really enjoying the relationship between her and Tennant — it’s got an old-school, I don’t actually love the Doctor we’re just friends sort of vibe which is quite fresh — but her work in this story was beautiful.

1. Presumably it’s a shallow sea of confusion if it’s striding. I considered “swimming,” but it seemed silly. I also considered abandoning the whole metaphor. But I didn’t. ↩
2. Every time I see those words, I imagine Laura Prepon in the TARDIS. So if you’ll excuse me; the Doctor and Donna the Doctor and Donna the Doctor and Donna the Doctor and Donna the Doctor and Donna the Doctor and Donna the Doctor and Donna the Doctor and Donna the Doctor and Donna. Right-oh. ↩
3. Mostly, because every convention says that the nasty sexist old man should not be able to predict the future like the more heroic and gifted young girl. And then — bam! ↩

This entry was posted by the illustrious Tom Charman on Friday, April 18th, 2008. It concerns such pressing issues as Doctor Who, tv. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. Both comments and pings are currently closed.