Time Incorporated: The Doctor Who Fanzine Archives: Vol. 3: Writings on the New Series: Part Two

In “Allons-y, Part 6 of Time Incorporated: The Doctor Who Fanzine Archives: Vol. 3: Writings on the New Series (Mad Norwegian Press 2011), writer Lloyd Rose celebrates John Simm’s Master in “Re-Mastered.” From reading online message boards, I often see fans slagging off Simm’s interpretation of the Master, which I have always held to be diabolically brilliant. Rose’s positive reading of Simm’s interpretation of the Master thus reinforces my defense and adoration for his performance. He also points out the act of creative synergy taking place between writer Russell T Davies and Simm: “Forget whatever’s going on between the Master and the Doctor. This is the real story, the romance between writer and actor, a fusion of shared exploration and delight” (180). As I said in my second blog on Convergence Culture, academic criticism for an object of study does not always have to be critical. In the case of fan criticism toward an object of affection, this truth doubly holds its weight. And for me, who wishes to hone his skill as a fan cultures scholar, this rule is triply true, as I need to remember to fairly assess fans even if I do not agree with their critical views or obsessive love for their sacred idols and stories.

For Part 7: “The 21^st Century is When It All Happens,” which centers on the two Doctor Who spinoff series, Torchwood and The Sarah Jane Adventures, I have mixed feelings. It is not that the articles presented in this section of the book are not interesting; I just wish they could have been organized into a separate volume of Time Unincorporated dealing with ancillary series as the collection to this point contained a certain sense of momentum in commenting on the mother show. Nonetheless, I was quite impressed by Helen Kang’s contribution to this volume, “Death, Corpses and Un-Death in Torchwood.”  Taking Owen Harper’s death and subsequent “living dead” resurrection as a sentient, walking corpse in the second series of Torchwood as her cue, Kang intriguingly weaves in Michel Foucault’s Birth of the Clinic, particularly his ideas concerning pathological anatomy, where a corpse tells the story of the deceased individual’s life (206). 

What I like about Kang’s approach is that she’s writing for Torchwood fans, but also for the academic crowd, a strategy which my co-author Marc Schuster and I similarly employed for our ruminations on Doctor Who in The Greatest Show in the Galaxy: The Discerning Fan’s Guide to Doctor Who (McFarland 2007). Now that I am older, a little wiser, and heading toward my comprehensive exams and dissertation in the next few years for a Ph.D. in Literature and Criticism, I am reminded that this attitude is still a valid one, as it achieves a twofold success in appealing to the erudite fan and serious scholar alike. Thus, regardless of whether or not I’m talking about feminist Doctor Who fans, aging comic-book readers, people who join in group zombie strolls, tween science-fiction readers, devoted Star Wars lovers, or cross-cultural anime fandom, I can still incorporate the theories of such thinkers as Marx, Haraway, Bourdieu, and any other so-called “heavy” intellectual when I am writing with a multilayered audience in mind.

In understanding how fans express their appreciation – or the converse – for producer / head writers Russell T Davies and Steven Moffat, one should look at how these two men approach writing Doctor Who. Scott Clarke tackles this subject in “A Tale of Two Writers” in Part 8 of this volume, “Wibbly-Wobbly…”  With one line, Clarke’s adroitly articulates Davies and Moffat’s divergent mythology-arc structuring of their Doctor Who seasons: “To be completely stark: a Davies arc is a portent of doom in the background of escalating character crisis; a Moffat arc is like an elaborate mousetrap that the characters have to react to and find their way out of” (233). In interviews, both writers often discuss growing up with Doctor Who and practicing a lifelong love of the series, in front of the television as a fan and behind the writer’s desk as a professional. Their respective mythology-arc strategies form a synthesis of their Doctor Who viewing experiences and their understanding about modern television, which has resulted in successful new televised adventures for a certain two-hearted alien and his antiquated time machine. 

Part 9, “Bowties are Cool,” repeats what Part 1 of this volume accomplished: It presents fan-love for the incumbent Time Lord, in this case, Matt Smith, who plays the eleventh incarnation of the Doctor. Graeme Burke’s contribution to this section, “Dear Matt Smith,” is one specific standout since it proffers a fan’s perspective on the act of assuming the venerated role of the Doctor to Mr. Smith, who, at the time of Burke’s article, would not debut on BBC screens as the Eleventh Doctor for over a year.  Burke wisely warns Smith that Doctor Who fans will dissect every aspect of the show’s production, which involves casting, characters, storylines, and even the briefest of interviews. He adds to Smith, “With that passion – and the principle holds true for fans of football, baseball, and theatre – fans can develop an incredible sense of enthusiasm, that we are personally owed something by you” (273). Although Burke proceeds to tell Smith to just apply his best acting to the role of the Doctor, the darker vision of his words remains with me.  This shadowy and sometimes disturbing underbelly of Doctor Who – and practically any other type of fandom – is not the most appealing variety of subject matter, but it is one I must address in the future as I explore different modules of fan communities. I guess what I am saying is that, in returning to the subject of obsessive fans, I am going to have to take both a clinical and empathetic intellectual stance in delving into their oftentimes complicated, troubled, and contradictory mindsets…