It was announced about a month or so ago that Peter Capaldi was officially going to be the 12th incarnation of the Doctor. While I have no real strong opinions about him, the most I have seen him in is The Fires of Pompeii, the announcement itself thrilled me beyond anything. Why would the announcement of a new Doctor thrill me? Because now everyone else gets to feel the pain and suffering that I felt in early 2010.
David Tennant is my Doctor. I got into the show in the Summer of 2007, catching a marathon on SyFy at my friend’s recommendation. I was captured by his charisma, his ability to used the most subtle of looks to bring gravity and emotion to a scene. I didn’t know the whole backstory, or what was going on with Rose, but I knew that I wanted to find out. Unfortunately, Who fever hadn’t made its way over to America yet and very little was available. Or, if it was over here, it was ridiculously expensive (I still don’t have the box set of the first season). I did what I could to feed my obsession, ordering mostly from online stores and paying a ridiculous amount in shipping costs. That is, until the Spring of 2008, when I studied abroad in Wales.
It’s a country, not an animal.
Doctor Who is filmed in Cardiff, the capital of Wales, and as soon as I landed, I felt like I was in Doctor country. I was able to visit actual filming locations, go to the shop and find props and toys and other silly things at reasonable prices, and at a much wider selection, and best of all, I was able to watch season 4, with the great Donna Noble, weekly, as it was airing, and didn’t have to wait weeks or even months for it to come to the US. I was in geek heaven.
That’s a real place! Honest!
But then David Tennent announced he was leaving, and my heart started to break. I wasn’t ready to say goodbye yet. I knew that there were going to be the specials that aired over the year, but as each one played out, I knew that it only meant that I was one more hour closer to losing my Doctor. When the final episode did air, and I watched as he visited old companions, and said those gut-wrenching last few words, I was a complete mess. I sat in my living room for a good 15 minutes after crying my eyes out. My mom was concerned.
Except I was worse.
I like Matt Smith. I like the Eleventh Doctor. However, it got harder and harder for me to faithfully watch as the stories became more Amy Pond-centric and more ridiculous. I think Steven Moffat is a fantastic episode writer, but he doesn’t have the same finesse to run the show as Russell T Davies had. I don’t like how Americanized the show has become, from filming in Utah and New York to making the cover of Entertainment Weekly 3 times in the past year. Maybe it’s jealously on my part, that none of that was available when I was really into it. Maybe I’m a hipster, I was a fan first, when it was better. Maybe I just never really got over the regeneration.
It’s probably really mean and sadistic of me to be excited about the pain and suffering this whole new, larger group of Doctor Who fans are going to experience when Matt Smith leaves, as they watch him regenerate into the older Peter Capaldi. But, I think it’ll be good for them. It’ll make them stand back and really look at the show, to see how good they had it, to accept the change that comes with being a fan of one of the longest running shows on television. And then, hopefully, it’ll make them want to go back and watch the earlier seasons and see how much better it used to be.
Now you’ve really made me want to watch Doctor Who. LOL
Oh, Zoey, you evil little thing. We all enjoy when others suffer what we’ve suffered in our fandom. Hahaha.
I’ve never watched Dr. Who, but I know that people become obsessed over it an every time there’s a new Doctor is like pandemonium!