Over the last 50 years it's woven itself into the tapestry of our culture and helps to define what it means to be British. Everyone's heard of the Doctor, harbours a (not so) secret desire to travel in the Tardis at least once, and knows of the terror of the Daleks. Having an in-depth knowledge of the zygones, the origin of "Geronimo!" and just why that fez is so significant doesn't matter. Yes, of course it helps, but it's not a total necessity. That's the beauty of Doctor Who, it's accessible to all: young and old, new fans and diehard Whovians.
I never had that initial connection with Doctor Who. My parents speak animatedly of hiding behind their sofas when they were children, paralysed with fear of the Daleks, but I never had that. It started to become huge again just as I lost all interest in anything mainstream, and could think of nothing worse than sitting with my parents on a Saturday night watching it. I'd scurry to my room and blast rubbish music loudly rather than sit through a show about a Time Lord and listen to my parents reminisce about playing Daleks with toilet plungers when they were little. It's only now that I'm starting to appreciate it. As with most things, it turns out my parents were right (but I shan't be admitting that to them any time soon!). I know I'm coming to the party late, but at least I've finally got here.
[IMAGE SOURCED FROM www.telegraph.co.uk]
As far as the plot goes, I think I've got the general gist of it all. The importance of Gallifrey completely eludes me, and to me, Trenzalore sounds like an energy drink. I'm not entirely familiar with the companions: I could pick them out of a line up but the odds of me getting their names wrong is pretty high and I couldn't tell you much about their characters. I only really know of Amy Pond because my friend was in love with her and Clara Oswald as I have serious hair envy. The rest pop-up frequently on my Tumblr dashboard but they're normally accompanied by a weird caption or a gif set that makes little sense. I've always found the timey-wimey thing confusing, and I suppose that's what's put me off following it more. I missed most of Nine and dipped in and out of Ten, so when it came to Eleven it all seemed too confusing and catching up with it all too daunting of a task. Still, the general concept isn't too hard to grasp, and I think all Brits are born with an innate skill for understanding and appreciating Doctor Who in the same way we never get bored of James Bond, can make the perfect cup of tea and love to moan about the weather at every opportunity.
That being said and my lack of Doctor Who knowledge aside, I wasn't going to pass up the opportunity to see 'The Day of the Doctor' in 3D at the cinema. Why watch it on iPlayer later when I live 5 minutes from a cinema? Everyone in Britain (and the rest of the world) was talking about it and will be for days, so I wasn't prepared to miss out!
[I found the Tardis at the Barbican!]
In 'The Day of the Doctor' something terrible is awakening in London's National Gallery in 2013; in 1562, a murderous plot is afoot in Elizabethan England; and somewhere in space an ancient battle reaches its devastating conclusion. It oscillates between the three plots, weaving together the three incarnations of the Doctor in the form of David Tennant (Ten), Matt Smith (Eleven) and John Hurt (an incarnation between Eight and Nine, who fought in the Time Wars). Their chemistry was spot-on, both poking fun at each other and perfectly riffing off John Hurt. They were a formidable trio, both in terms of screen presence and comedic timing. It was a truly funny and clever script that expertly trod the line between an episode purely for the fans to geek out over and being enormously enjoyable for those with a limited knowledge. In my mind this was like a Disney film: aimed at the children but with subtle dirty jokes that only adults understand. There was lots in 'The Day of the Doctor' that went totally over my head, but it was terrific nonetheless.
[IMAGE SOURCED FROM www.bbc.co.uk]
There's nothing better than witnessing an event surrounded by fans, and there are few fan bases out there more dedicated than the Whovians. There were more bow ties and fezzes in the audience than I've ever seen and I'm sure I saw more than one person holding a sonic screwdriver. At no point did this feel like a regular cinema event. It felt like we were sat in a giant living room, chilling with an enormous group of friends. There was no polite laughter and awkwardness: this was an hour of warmth, giggling, whooping, gasping, pointing and bouts of uncontrollable clapping. The cinema had a sort of electric energy and infectious enthusiasm that proved impossible to do anything but be swept up in.
[IMAGE SOURCED FROM www.cinemablend.com]
There were moments when the audience just couldn't cope and totally lost their minds. Bad Wolf, a certain scarf and the gallery curator come to mind, but this moment in particular stands out, and with good reason:
[GIF SOURCED FROM THIS TUMBLR POST]
As the house lights came up after the credits and people had finally stopped clapping, one girl in the front row swung round to her friends and exclaimed in equal parts glee and sorrow: "BUT WHAT DO WE DO WITH OUR LIVES NOW?!"
Well I know exactly what I'm doing with mine: does anyone know where I can find Series 1, Episode 1, "Rose"? It seems like I've got a lot of catching up to do…
[UPDATE: Netflix… The answer is always Netflix…]
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