Doctor Who: 1x03

1x03 - The Unquiet Dead

This episode was actually one of my favorites.  For some reason, it really seemed like they took the production value up a notch or two, but I couldn't figure out if that was because they did, or if it was because it's a lot easier to reproduce the year 1869 than the year 5.5/apple/26.  Either way, I appreciated the difference.

So, we start out in the 19th century with Funeral Home Guy and Gwyneth, who reminds me powerfully of Dina Waters' character in The Haunted Mansion.   Funeral Home Guy is flipping out a little because some old lady who bears a startling resemblance to Bill Nighy has awakened from her eternal sleep and is screaming blue smoke at everyone.

 R.I.P. - Granny Nighy

 

She runs out into the street, banshee wailing, while ghostly vapor comes out of her mouth and flies around.  Then we swap to Rose and the Doctor, bouncing about in the TARDIS and trying to decide on a destination.  Eventually, the Doctor chooses 1860 because reasons and takes them there.  He tells Rose she has to go change her clothes because she'll probably be burned at the steak for witchcraft if she goes out looking like that, so she runs off to the wardrobe that is apparently hidden in the much-larger-than-previously-assumed spaceship.

We're back to Gwyneth and Funeral Home Guy.  Gwyneth is apparently a psychic and Funeral Home Guy, who up until now has been relatively chill, suggests that Gwyneth use her mind powers to find old dead Granny Nighy, which she refuses (because black magic, duh) and he then comes back with, "Do it or I'll fucking fire you," which seemed to be a bit harsh, frankly.

I will stop this cart and slap you with that bonnet. Don't think I won't.

So, Gwyneth, spineless creature that she is, agrees, and takes on a far off look for a moment.  She then informs us that Mrs. Nighy is going to see the very important man.  That she had been looking forward to it before she died, and, goddamnit, she was going.

Then we skip over to Simon Callow, who is a pimp, I don't care what he's doing.  He's Charles Dickens, author of Oliver Twist, and apparently renowned for his captivating oration, which we see a little later on once he's bitched and griped for a few minutes about being old and knowing everything and why is life so shitty, etc.

Back on the TARDIS, Rose comes back, decked out in 19th century garb and wonders why the Doctor hasn't change, to which he replies that he's changed his jumper.  But, he basically looks the same.  At this point, I wondered aloud why it was that he got to wear whatever while Rose probably had on a corset.  My husband seemed to think that people saw whatever they wanted to see when they looked at the Doctor, but this was never clarified.

Then, they go out into the city (which is supposed to be Naples, but...) and oops!  It's Cardiff.  And it's 1869, not 1860.  But, Rose could give less than two fucks about that because SHE IS IN THE PAST.  Which would be my precise attitude, so thank you, Rose, for finally being impressed with the TARDIS.

Then we return to Charles Dickens, who is performing a riveting recitation of "A Christmas Carol" to an audience of people who clearly have nothing better to do with their time, including Granny Nighy, who is being generally dead and creepy.

 "And all they found was a hook dangling from the passenger's

side door, and no one ever heard from Bob Cratchett again."

And then he notices Granny Nighy, and that's she's glowing and then she's spitting out ghosts which swarm around the room and freak everyone out, so they all start running, to Charles Dickens' exclanmations that they stay in their seats.  Because that's totally what I'd do in that situation.

Out on the streets, the Doctor hears screaming and runs in to try and save the day... or maybe just observe the cacophony, I'm not really sure.  Funeral Home Guy and Gwyneth show up at this point and snatch up a now limp Granny Nighy and carry her out, Rose hot on their heels.  Rose starts asking probing questions and gets a nice face full of ether handkerchief because it's the 19th century.

The Doctor commandeers Charles Dicken's carriage, which Charles Dickens gets into also, and commands his driver to follow that hearse!  They end up at the funeral home, where Gwyneth and Funeral Home Guy have considerately laid Rose out on a table for dead people in a room with the guy Granny Nighy killed in the beginning of the episode (which was her son... or something) who promptly comes to life and starts spitting blue ghost smoke as Charles Dickens and the Doctor are arguing with Gwyneth about coming into the house.

The Doctor lets her out and now Granny Nighy and Granny Nighy, Jr. come waltzing over to the doorway, spit some screamy smoke and disappear.  This is when the Doctor notices something weird going on with the gaslights.  Then, the Doctor sort of takes over everything and gets really pushy and insists that Gwyneth lead a seance, which she agrees to do, and that's when we meet the Gelth, who are actual assholes.

But, we don't know that yet, and Gwyneth is kind of stupid, so she decides that the Gelth are her angels and somehow her responsibility after they claim that their physical forms were destroyed during the Time War and that their race is dying off.  The next logical step is to let them use the recently deceased as vessels to move around in.  So, like the giant roach guy in Men in Black.

Nothing bad could possibly come of this.

 At this point, the Doctor gets sort of bossy and starts throwing his Timelord weight around, telling Gwyneth that she has to open a bridge for the Gelth to let them "pass through," the rift, which is apparently in the house.  Rose gets pissed and says she she won't let Gwyneth do it, because since they had an awkward five minute conversation in the pantry, they're besties, now.

Gwyneth eventually speaks up and agrees to do it, so everyone goes down to the morgue.  Of course.  She stands in a random doorway and starts letting forth WAY more Gelths than the Gelths agreed to bring, and the Doctor is like, "THESE PEOPLE DID NOT RSVP WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK?" and then everyone realizes that the Doctor made a really stupid decision and they're all going to die, because the Gelth don't want just dead bodies, they want all bodies.

I immediately regret this decision.

Charles Dickens goes running out of the place, because he's a pansy, but once he gets outside, he realizes that the whole gas thing they'd been talking about earlier that didn't seem to make much sense made WAY MORE sense than everyone though.  So, he goes back inside and, at the risk of choking everyone to death on gas fumes, turns up all the lanterns all over the house. 

He runs back downstairs, where Rose and the Doctor are sort of almost but not really having a brief romantic moment and tells them they have to turn on all the gas.  The Doctor realizes the sense behind this (which I didn't) - apparently the gas will draw out the Gelths, because they're mostly gas... or all gas... something.

Anyway, this works and the Gelths start swirling around the ceiling in confusion while the Doctor consults with Gweneth about sending them all back.  Which, as it happens, she cannot do.  But, she can hold them there to give everyone time enough to get outside before they blow the shit out of the building.  She keeps a book of matches, the Doctor says sorry for basically insisting that she do this and getting her killed.  Oops.

He runs outside where he gets to Cool Guy dive away from the exploding building.  Rose is upset (is this a trend?  She seems to be upset at the end of most episodes...) about the fact that Gwyneth died, especially since she saved the world from the Gelth and no one will ever know about it.  Charles Dickens says he's going to go hang out with his family and will make The Mystery of Edwin Drood about blue smoke aliens.  The Doctor confirms that his work will endure the test of time.

Back in the TARDIS, Rose brings up the fact that it might make things sort of weird for Charles Dickens if he actually does write a book about blue smoke aliens, to which the Doctor cheerily uplifts all our spirits by reminding us that he'll die in about six months, anyway, so he won't get to write it.  No harm done.

And that's the end!