NuWho Rewatch: Partners in Crime
Feb. 26th, 2015 07:12 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
purplecatIt is interesting to note that Doctor Who has a bit of a track record of casting actors known for their work in comedy, starting their tenure on the show off in a broadly comic fashion, only for them to end up playing the part largely straight, if not seriously.
Pertwee starts his time on Doctor Who indulging in that 1970s comic staple of disguising himself as a cleaning lady, only to end up as the first action Doctor. Sylvester McCoy's first story is full of malapropisms, playing the spoons and somewhat ill-advised (given the budget/rehearsal time available) physical comedy and he ends up as the darkest and most manipulative of the Doctors. Partners in Crime starts out with a sequence of events almost reminiscent of a bedroom farce as the Doctor and Donna repeatedly narrowly miss meeting up which leads to them spotting each other through windows and indulging in an elaborate mime show.
NLSS Child giggled through all of it. It is certainly much more professionally done and better executed than the comedy of Time and the Rani. At this distance in time it is harder to comment on Spearhead from Space which, at any rate, is relying somewhat less on Pertwee's comic credentials. Doctor Who can accommodate a range of styles and is certainly flexible enough to do this kind of comedy every once in a while.
Tate's portrayal was to continue to be more broadly comic than either McCoy's or Pertwee's, though this was often used to underline serious points or to bring the Doctor down to Earth when he was showing signs of getting too self-important and angst-ridden. Sometimes it works and sometimes it doesn't. I don't think it is ever as clearly signposted, though, as it was in this opening episode.
Other than Tate's (re)introduction as a companion, the most notable thing about the story of Partners in Crime is that the alien plan isn't really particularly malignant. In fact the evilest thing about it is the way Nanny goes about attempting to cover it up and Davies has to, basically, rely on the legalese of "The Shadow Proclamation" to explain why it has to be covered up at all. The adipose are both original and intentionally cute. They make a nicely different monster for the show.
The other notable thing about the episode comes from The Writer's Tale in which Davies agonises at length about why the doorways in the Adipose building are so conveniently electrified. Of all the plot holes that litter Davies' tenure as show-runner this is one of the most minor, and it seems very odd that this should be the one he devoted so much time to papering over during the writing process.
Davies was good at season openers, generally delivering something light and frothy that provides a good backdrop for the (re)introduction of characters. Rose seems the most significant of the four, but then it has a lot more ground to cover and so less space for the kind of runaround fun than the others do. Partners in Crime is no exception. It does what it does well, its comedy moments actually work but it isn't attempting any particularly deep or serious.
"Wait! Was that Rose?" NLSS Child asked at the end.
Pertwee starts his time on Doctor Who indulging in that 1970s comic staple of disguising himself as a cleaning lady, only to end up as the first action Doctor. Sylvester McCoy's first story is full of malapropisms, playing the spoons and somewhat ill-advised (given the budget/rehearsal time available) physical comedy and he ends up as the darkest and most manipulative of the Doctors. Partners in Crime starts out with a sequence of events almost reminiscent of a bedroom farce as the Doctor and Donna repeatedly narrowly miss meeting up which leads to them spotting each other through windows and indulging in an elaborate mime show.
NLSS Child giggled through all of it. It is certainly much more professionally done and better executed than the comedy of Time and the Rani. At this distance in time it is harder to comment on Spearhead from Space which, at any rate, is relying somewhat less on Pertwee's comic credentials. Doctor Who can accommodate a range of styles and is certainly flexible enough to do this kind of comedy every once in a while.
Tate's portrayal was to continue to be more broadly comic than either McCoy's or Pertwee's, though this was often used to underline serious points or to bring the Doctor down to Earth when he was showing signs of getting too self-important and angst-ridden. Sometimes it works and sometimes it doesn't. I don't think it is ever as clearly signposted, though, as it was in this opening episode.
Other than Tate's (re)introduction as a companion, the most notable thing about the story of Partners in Crime is that the alien plan isn't really particularly malignant. In fact the evilest thing about it is the way Nanny goes about attempting to cover it up and Davies has to, basically, rely on the legalese of "The Shadow Proclamation" to explain why it has to be covered up at all. The adipose are both original and intentionally cute. They make a nicely different monster for the show.
The other notable thing about the episode comes from The Writer's Tale in which Davies agonises at length about why the doorways in the Adipose building are so conveniently electrified. Of all the plot holes that litter Davies' tenure as show-runner this is one of the most minor, and it seems very odd that this should be the one he devoted so much time to papering over during the writing process.
Davies was good at season openers, generally delivering something light and frothy that provides a good backdrop for the (re)introduction of characters. Rose seems the most significant of the four, but then it has a lot more ground to cover and so less space for the kind of runaround fun than the others do. Partners in Crime is no exception. It does what it does well, its comedy moments actually work but it isn't attempting any particularly deep or serious.
"Wait! Was that Rose?" NLSS Child asked at the end.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
Date: 2015-02-26 08:57 pm (UTC)Anyway, I've never liked this story, or Donna, very much. I found this too story slight to really care about, although it seemed better than some of the previous season. I think by this stage I was enjoying the tenth Doctor's adventures in comic strip form in DWM much more than on TV, not least because I didn't have to imagine the extremes of Tennant's performance.
(no subject)
Date: 2015-02-27 11:51 am (UTC)Does it? *doh* - shows how long it is since I saw either. I always remember fan wisdom saying Pertwee started out playing things for laughs, but my memory is that Spearhead is much more dominated by the introduction of UNIT than by Pertwee's performance and UNIT was really a lot more serious (or at least action-oriented and macho), at least in inception, than a lot of the Troughton stuff had been.
I find it hard to see this as qualitatively greatly different from New Earth or Smith and Jones. The Cassandra body-swap sequences are not greatly different in comedic tone to the "through the window" pantomime we have here.