#queer whovians please add to it!!

[oldtvandcomics]

Happy Queer Media Monday!

Today: Doctor Who (1963 - )

Happy early 60th anniversary to my favourite TV show! <3

(Picture of the Sixth Doctor sitting on a bridge with the TARDIS in the background, because this is one of my all-time favourite pictures of the Doctor, and I do what I want with my posts)

Doctor Who is a British science fiction series that has achieved global cult status. Having started in 1963, it is the longest still-running science fiction show ever: November 2023 marks its 60th anniversary. It is also textually queer, and given the format of it, said queerness can be applied retroactively to episodes that aired decades before it was actually confirmed in canon.

Doctor Who is about an alien time traveller called the Doctor, who left their home planet for mysterious reasons, and is now wandering through time and space in a barely functioning spaceship called the TARDIS. They are accompanied on their adventures by one to three friends at a time, and have a certain tendency to end up in modern day England. The Doctor, as well as their whole species, is canonically genderfluid, and has been played by both male and female actors. They have had canon relationships with people of both the same and different gender than they are, and some of their friends are very queer, too.

Doctor Who has, besides the TV show, a big extended universe that includes, among other interesting queer characters and storylines, the spin-off series Torchwood, which is a more ‘adult’ show about a team of bisexuals fighting aliens.

A lot can, and has been, said about Doctor Who. The three things I am going to leave you with are: The book Queers Dig Time Lords, which is a collection of short essays written by queer fans about their experience with the show. Worth noting, this book is ten years old and missing some of the newer developments. YouTuber Astral Armadillo’s The Queer History of Doctor Who video, where she goes over the history of the show and when the different queer elements turned up. Obviously not all-inclusive, but as an overview very informative. And YouTuber Verilybitchie’s video Commodifying Bi Validation: Loki vs Russell T Davies, about the queer representation in Disney (like their show Loki) versus queer representation by stories made by Russel T. Davies (like Doctor Who and Torchwood). It really did change the way I see RTD’s work.

Queer Media Monday is an action I started to talk about some important and/or interesting parts of our queer heritage, that people, especially young people who are only just beginning to discover the wealth of stories out there, should be aware of. Please feel free to join in on the fun and make your own posts about things you personally find important!

[whovianfeminism]

Whovian Feminism Reviews “The Doctor Falls”

“The Doctor Falls” is an ambitious story, there’s no doubt about that. With two generations of Cybermen, two Masters, two Doctors, five emotional arcs, and multiple farewells, it seems impossible to pull it all into a coherent episode. And yet, it comes together in the end to create a moving story that lets Peter Capaldi shine and sends him off to his final episode with reluctant excitement. But in trying to tackle too much at once, “The Doctor Falls” can’t give all the competing story arcs the time and attention they deserve. And it’s Bill Potts who particularly suffers as a result. “The Doctor Falls” compounded many of the problems with how her character was treated in “World Enough and Time,” and her superficially happy ending was an unsatisfying end to an underserved character arc.

“The Doctor Falls” is a story about conclusions and farewells. Peter Capaldi’s regeneration lurks underneath this entire story, from the flashes of fire around his hands to his urgent, growling speeches. But he’s still got one more episode left to go. His friends, enemies, and frenemies take center stage here. The first to go are Missy and the Master, who rather appropriately exit the show by stabbing themselves in the back.

Michelle Gomez and John Simm have delicious chemistry together, and it’s a pure delight to watch them banter. But they both have very different relationships with the Doctor, which creates an interesting conflict for Missy. Throughout this season I had doubted that Missy’s attempts to be good were genuine, so I was a bit surprised by the end of this episode. And yet, it’s the perfect conclusion for her arc. At the end of Series 8, Missy tried to rekindle her friendship with the Doctor on her terms -- now she has to choose whether or not to stand with him on his terms. It’s unintentionally the ultimate test of whether or not Missy meets the Doctor’s definition of “good.” She does something kind, without witness or reward, even though it risked her own survival. But it’s a massive break from her past -- which is why it is strangely appropriate that a past regeneration shoots her in the back for it.

Now that Missy and the Master are properly together, Moffat takes the full opportunity to play with Time Lords, regeneration, and gender. Ironically in the previous episode, Moffat made a point of having the Doctor say that Time Lords were “billions of years beyond your petty human obsession with gender and its associated stereotypes.” And, yes, this episode did have it’s progressive moments to show Time Lords could get beyond those petty obsessions. But it also leaned further into those stereotypes too.

One blink-and-you’ll-miss-it moment that got a lot of positive attention was when the Master took a quiet moment to fix his eyeliner. Make-up is expected but often unremarked upon for film, TV, and stage actors. We know that they all wear some amount, and yet, we never see any of them apply it -- unless it’s to mock the character or mark them as a queer character. But there’s something beautifully understated about this moment. Both he and Missy take a moment to reapply their makeup during this episode, and both scenes happen quietly and without fanfare, like it’s a normal part of their daily routine. It’s a nice way of challenging gender norms around makeup.

Although John Simm’s Master is pushing some boundaries, he’s also reinforcing them in other ways. He makes a cruel and unnecessary attack on Bill’s gender while he’s trying to rile her up, and continues deliberately denying her gender as a specific part of his attempt to dehumanize her. He refers to her as an “it,” says she “used to be a woman,” and makes a point of asking for her old bras for his future regeneration (implying that perhaps those parts of her body were also cut up and thrown away during her conversion into a Cybermen). We know the Master is a villain already, his credentials have been well established there. So it felt especially unnecessary to add a gross campaign of misgendering to his ledger.

When Missy refers to Bill Potts using her correct gender pronouns, the Master mocks Missy, saying “Becoming a woman is one thing but have you got...empathy?” You know, that trait stereotypically associated with women. Way back in Series 8 I talked about the way Missy’s characterization and motivations seemed to play into gender stereotypes, but for most of this season I had been pleased to see that she had a more complicated emotional journey that stayed away from those stereotypes. But now here’s the Master all but saying that Missy’s reformation is only happening because she’s a woman, with all those associated gender stereotypes. And no one refutes his assertion. A villain can say things that are wrong or that the audience isn’t supposed to agree with, but at some point they should be refuted. 

The next character we say goodbye to is Bill Potts. And it’s especially bittersweet to see her go.

We were fairly certain from the get-go that Bill would be a one-season companion. With both Peter Capaldi and Steven Moffat leaving, it was unlikely that Chris Chibnall would hang on to Bill. And although I thoroughly enjoyed her for the time we had her, I’m left at the end of this season feeling like her story and emotional arc were really underserved. She had good moments in each episode, but they didn’t all add up to a wholly satisfying story. She’s faced with the choice of whether or not to travel with Heather in her first and last episode. In her first episode she refuses Heather, but by her last episode she accepts. And yet the only thing that seemed to change about her was that, instead of letting Heather lead, she wanted to be the one to show Heather the universe. The sum of her emotional arc is “I’ve been through a lot.” Or, to paraphrase, “Girl, I have seen some shit.” And that’s not really a compelling arc.

But boy, did she see some shit in “The Doctor Falls.” When we first truly see Bill again -- when we first see Pearl Mackie -- she's being kept in a barn, segregated from the rest of the community. Everyone is terrified by her, and she doesn't know why. Her perception of herself is that she is normal, human, exactly like everybody else. But they see her as a monster. And it's not just that she looks frightening, she is actually dangerous. Her anger is literally destructive, so she must never express when she's angry or upset. The fear of the community occasionally results in her being shot, but she’s supposed to understand their fear and not protest, even when she’s hurt and upset.

These are a lot of heavy themes to tackle, especially when the character in question is a queer black woman. But the story never really commits to exploring any of the challenges her situation raises. So it unintentionally leans in to a lot of problematic tropes and stereotypes about black women.

One of the most frustrating of these -- especially because it would have been so easy to fix -- is this episode’s approach to Bill’s anger.  Black women's anger is frequently portrayed as irrational, dangerous, and destructive -- it's known as the Angry Black Woman stereotype. In this episode, Bill's anger is literally destructive. If she gets angry or upset, she will begin uncontrollably firing the weapon she's been given as a Cyberman. So the Doctor instructs her never to be upset. She has to endure insult and injury without ever expressing how she feels about it. And there's no payoff. We never see her release all of the anger and sadness building up inside her. She occasionally gets to fire her gun when the Doctor directs her to, and she gets to express her sadness over the Doctor's near-death. But there's never a moment that's entirely focused on Bill. We never see her anger portrayed as valid and necessary, instead of dangerous and destructive. Pearl Mackie's performance was incredible in those glimpses where she showed us what she was really feeling, but she and the audience deserved more.

By the end of this episode, Bill survives, has her body restored (somewhat), and gets to fly off to her happy ending with Heather. It's a remarkable ending that elicited a lot of complicated feelings. In the heat of the moment, I was almost crying with happiness. The importance of seeing women kissing women on screen cannot be understated. It was affirming, it was beautiful, and it was so necessary. It's so rare that queer love saves the girl instead of dooming her. I wanted this kiss more than anything this series.

And yet, those feelings couldn't last. I had no investment in Heather and Bill's relationship, beyond a desire to see adequate queer representation in media. They had a cute flirtation in "The Pilot" but hadn't really established a relationship. And the last time we saw Heather, she was barely herself anymore. It all felt rather superficial. We needed to see more of their relationship being built up throughout the series. This could've been accomplished by showing glimpses of Heather following Bill throughout her adventures.

There was also something very odd about Bill's last words to the Doctor, when she asked if he knew she was a lesbian. People I follow on Twitter couldn't agree on whether she was making a trolling joke or if this was an attempt to insinuate that maybe she might've had something for the Doctor if he was her type. Either way, it was clumsy and tonally off as they prepared to face their imminent deaths.

All of these problems could've been fixed had more time been spent on her story, both in this episode and throughout the series. I will always love Bill and adore Pearl Mackie, and yet I will always believe she deserved more.

But, of course, this episode is about saying farewell to Peter Capaldi.

And what a send-off. It’s a gift-wrapped package to the actor who’s still a fanboy at heart. He gets to have a story exploring the genesis of the Mondassian Cybermen. He gets a scene with the First Doctor, probably his favorite Doctor, who he has been emulating since the very first moment it was announced that he would be the Twelfth Doctor. And he gets Rachel Talalay, who has directed every single one of his finale episodes, to direct his final episodes.

And let’s take a moment to appreciate their collaboration and the stunning work Rachel Talalay did on this episode. They have built a wonderful creative relationship together that has given us stunning episodes and brought out the best of Capaldi’s Doctor. And Talalay’s dedication to the details of Doctor Who really stands out in this episode. The Fan Show’s interview with her about “The Doctor Falls” is a must-watch. She talks about how she achieved the switch between Pearl Mackie and the Cyberman in-camera with some clever work, and how they debated how the newly-converted Cybermen should behave in even the briefest moments. One under-appreciated moment I wish I saw more gifsets of was a small scene at the beginning of the episode where ash floats around the Mondassian Cybermen, like snow from “The Tenth Planet.”

But above all what I loved most about “The Doctor Falls” was the focus on kindness. It was the perfect sentiment to send-off the Twelfth Doctor. From the man who once said he needed his companions to care so he didn’t have to, to the man who cares so much he’d lay down his life for strangers, this Doctor has been through an incredible evolution. His final speech to Missy and the Master perfectly summed up everything the Twelfth Doctor stands for, and it epitomizes the man who portrays him. Peter Capaldi, above all, is kind. He shows as much care and dedication to the role he plays as he does to the fans who love this show. It will be hard to say goodbye, but he’ll leave behind an incredible legacy.

[therothwoman]

On the subject of condemning fun, and condemning ourselves for having it that one time.

I think the thing that saddens me most about Cringe Culture is not just this weird spectator’s sport of mocking things that other people, usually young other people, really like, but its unfortunate focus on celebrating hatred of things we used to love.

Look, I get it. I’ve seen people come into fandoms late and go through the motions of making all the jokes that we played to death years ago. I get major secondhand embarrassment when a kid asks an awkward question at a convention. I know that shipping and making/consuming gay fanart and fanfic alone do not an ally make. I know that SuperWhoLock sure was A Thing That Happened. I know that Dashcon was a mess of epic proportions.

But by golly, it makes those kids/teens who were discovering a community happy. It made us happy, once.

And maybe part of Cringe Culture is taking pride in knowing that we’ve allegedly grown to be better people in our eyes. But I feel like we’re using this growth and power wrong: I feel like we’ve been using it to shame the next generation of fans instead of using our experience to guide them. How many times have I seen a reblog of an Ancient Post with some old meme or trend and someone today adds “DID WE LEARN NOTHING FROM THIS HORROR??” Yeah, maybe it’s a funny joke for us, but if we want to people to Actually Learn from This Horror, just yelling about the fact that it happened isn’t going to help much.

So please, if you can:

Have a few shreds of patience for the new folks (especially the kids) who find the old jokes funny because they’re still new jokes to them. Communicate about what counts as an appropriate or inappropriate question to ask someone on a panel. Use slashfic as a gateway to getting new folks involved in real-world LGBTQ+ events and causes and help educate them about real queer issues (because if we don’t, who will?) and maybe why writing that Pulse/AIDS/conversion-therapy-camp AU will probably come off as insensitive, instead of accusing a 14-year-old girl of fetishizing gays just because she reads 50k Stony fic and drew Harry and Draco making out in front of a Pride flag. Let the kids have their wacky crossovers. And please for the love of god stop blaming failed fan-run conventions exclusively on the fans, when bad management is traditionally the real culprit.

Because I believe we can be better than this. We can do better than reblogging a post about “Whovians, grab your sonic screwdrivers” in 2017 and going “guys look at this fucking loser.”

Let’s try to use our Cringe for Good.