Can you Hear Me?
Feb. 15th, 2020 02:35 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
purplecatI've felt strangely reluctant to write about Can you Hear Me? not because I particularly disliked the episode but parts of its themes seem so big, and the reaction to them online so divided and largely beyond my experience, it feels like walking into a minefield and I don't want to get hurt or, more importantly, given mental health was so central to the episode, to hurt other people.
Some of the episode is easy to talk about. This is one of Doctor Who's slightly off-the-wall episode. Not quite the "sideways" of the show's original vision, but something that refuses to play with the show's default aesthetic or assumptions but is determined to be its own thing, not necessarily in a particularly showy way, but in a way that makes you appreciate that the show is big enough to be this kind of thing sometimes.
That said, I'm not convinced he stuff with the fingers particularly worked or particularly made sense. I assume there was some intent to play with the concept that people put their fingers in their ears to signal that they are refusing to listen in relation to the ideas of listening/hearing and discussing that the story was playing with but it didn't really seem to link up. Don't put your fingers in your ears folks, they may steal your nightmares...
On the other hand, lots about the vaguely dreamlike feel of the acting and the directing worked really well. The experimentation with scene cut motifs, the gradual layering of Yaz's dream, the visuals of Zellen and Rakaya stealing the dreams in the suburban streets were all powerful.
sir_guinglain has criticised Chibnall era story construction for a "good enough" attitude, an inability or lack of interest, in going the extra mile to make sure their points cohere and make sense. In this episode there is the ambiguity about Yaz's encounter with the police officer. Was Yaz "just" running away? or was she also contemplating suicide? Both interpretations make sense, but the second did not occur to me until I saw others discuss it. The idea that Yaz was suicidal fits in with the gravitas which the scenes are played, and the idea that recalling that moment is her worst nightmare. It also casts the slightly odd playing of Yaz's decision to go off on her own in Praxeus in a different light. Yaz may not be suicidal but it may nevertheless be true that she doesn't place much value on her own life. I guess I want to see if this is heading somewhere, and if so where. It seems like such a big thing that I'll be disappointed if it is featured in this episode and then ignored.
The really divisive moment is the Doctor's conversation with Graham. Obviously, it is perfectly in character for the Doctor to be completely unable to deal with this kind of thing. I identified quite strongly with her chosen tactic of acknowledging that she needed to say something reassuring at that point, but that she didn't know what - because I'm mostly pretty rubbish at being comforting (I tend to switch too quickly into trying to brainstorm solutions and while I know I do that, I don't know what to do instead). But it clearly hit many people, particularly people with experience of trying to communicate about their mental health with friends and loved ones, quite viscerally hard in a way that was obviously completely unintended by the writers (given that the BBC, in an almost unprecedented move, felt the need to release a statement about the intent of the scene).
The plot of Can you Hear Me? is almost irrelevant. Certainly sufficiently so that my feeling about it is largely that its good enough for what it needs to do. This was a mood piece about theme and character. I think it may have flubbed that in a couple of places, but mostly it was atmospheric and compelling. This episode isn't ever going to be one of my favourites (though I would take it over much of series 11, I must confess), but it is definitely the kind of story that Doctor Who needs to tackle from time to time, if only to establish and maintain the flexibility of its format.
Some of the episode is easy to talk about. This is one of Doctor Who's slightly off-the-wall episode. Not quite the "sideways" of the show's original vision, but something that refuses to play with the show's default aesthetic or assumptions but is determined to be its own thing, not necessarily in a particularly showy way, but in a way that makes you appreciate that the show is big enough to be this kind of thing sometimes.
That said, I'm not convinced he stuff with the fingers particularly worked or particularly made sense. I assume there was some intent to play with the concept that people put their fingers in their ears to signal that they are refusing to listen in relation to the ideas of listening/hearing and discussing that the story was playing with but it didn't really seem to link up. Don't put your fingers in your ears folks, they may steal your nightmares...
On the other hand, lots about the vaguely dreamlike feel of the acting and the directing worked really well. The experimentation with scene cut motifs, the gradual layering of Yaz's dream, the visuals of Zellen and Rakaya stealing the dreams in the suburban streets were all powerful.
sir_guinglain has criticised Chibnall era story construction for a "good enough" attitude, an inability or lack of interest, in going the extra mile to make sure their points cohere and make sense. In this episode there is the ambiguity about Yaz's encounter with the police officer. Was Yaz "just" running away? or was she also contemplating suicide? Both interpretations make sense, but the second did not occur to me until I saw others discuss it. The idea that Yaz was suicidal fits in with the gravitas which the scenes are played, and the idea that recalling that moment is her worst nightmare. It also casts the slightly odd playing of Yaz's decision to go off on her own in Praxeus in a different light. Yaz may not be suicidal but it may nevertheless be true that she doesn't place much value on her own life. I guess I want to see if this is heading somewhere, and if so where. It seems like such a big thing that I'll be disappointed if it is featured in this episode and then ignored.The really divisive moment is the Doctor's conversation with Graham. Obviously, it is perfectly in character for the Doctor to be completely unable to deal with this kind of thing. I identified quite strongly with her chosen tactic of acknowledging that she needed to say something reassuring at that point, but that she didn't know what - because I'm mostly pretty rubbish at being comforting (I tend to switch too quickly into trying to brainstorm solutions and while I know I do that, I don't know what to do instead). But it clearly hit many people, particularly people with experience of trying to communicate about their mental health with friends and loved ones, quite viscerally hard in a way that was obviously completely unintended by the writers (given that the BBC, in an almost unprecedented move, felt the need to release a statement about the intent of the scene).
The plot of Can you Hear Me? is almost irrelevant. Certainly sufficiently so that my feeling about it is largely that its good enough for what it needs to do. This was a mood piece about theme and character. I think it may have flubbed that in a couple of places, but mostly it was atmospheric and compelling. This episode isn't ever going to be one of my favourites (though I would take it over much of series 11, I must confess), but it is definitely the kind of story that Doctor Who needs to tackle from time to time, if only to establish and maintain the flexibility of its format.
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(no subject)
Date: 2020-02-15 07:24 pm (UTC)On the plus I liked the mental health aspects (I have generalised anxiety disorder by the way). Though I agree that the Yaz part was perhaps too ambiguous.
But I found the quasi “main” plot disappointing. The pacing seemed strange. And I wanted more Syria.
The Doc/Graham bit was definitely problematic, but as a mental health patient myself I didn’t take it badly, rather as a pretty sensitive depiction of some of the difficulties talking about this.
So I suppose overall it was an episode that tried a lot, but not entirely successfully for me. But very well intentioned, and I think it will have encouraged some good conversations.
(no subject)
Date: 2020-02-16 10:57 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2020-02-15 08:18 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2020-02-16 10:58 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2020-02-15 07:53 pm (UTC)For what it's worth, I didn't have a problem with the Doctor's behaviour in that conversation. I'm pretty out of the loop from online fandom these days, so this is the first I've heard of how divisive it is. To be honest, a lot of people do react like that. You could say Doctor Who is reflecting that or you could say it should be showing how to respond better. I'm not sure that there necessarily is a "good" or "correct" way to respond to conversations like that - so much depends on the needs, histories and personalities of the people in the conversation. I'm not sure that I would necessarily give a perfect response if someone came to me with mental health issues or other anxieties.
I'm not sure what I made of the episode overall. It felt good, perhaps my favourite of the season (admittedly a low bar to clear), but at the same time I felt that I was responding well to it because it ticked a lot of my boxes (eerie, somewhat surreal, low key, mental health theme) rather than because I was actually enjoying it. So, another story I'm reserving judgment on until I watch it again. But I'd be annoyed if they didn't try something like this occasionally.
(no subject)
Date: 2020-02-16 11:03 am (UTC)I think I feel that it is definitely the sort of story Doctor Who should be attempting from time to time, but I'm not sure it was the most successful attempt.
(no subject)
Date: 2020-02-16 11:12 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2020-02-15 08:00 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2020-02-16 11:06 am (UTC)