Doctor Who

The Day [I Became a Fan of] The Doctor

Throughout my thirty-seven years of life, I’ve been exposed to Doctor Who, but I never fell under the Whovian umbrella of fandom. I remember catching reruns on PBS in the 80s late at night when I was younger. Okay, it was probably only about 9PM, but that was “late” for a six-year-old. I never got in trouble for it. In fact, my elder-geek of a dad subtly encouraged it.

Did I understand any of it? Oh heavens, no. My viewings of the cheesy sci-fi show were sporadic, never in order, and half of the concepts presented in the show were incomprehensible to my post-toddler brain. That and British English might as well have been a second language to me back then.

I had questions like: Why was The Doctor always played by different actors? Why are those slow-moving R2D2-looking things considered a dangerous alien race? What the hell is with that blue police box?! (Yes, I used “hell” rather liberally at that age.)

It wasn’t until later that the adventures of the wayward immortal time-traveling alien were made clear. And while that sort of subject matter would’ve grabbed me – and did when I caught glimpses of it – I quickly lost interest.

That isn’t to say that I wasn’t nudged in the Whovian direction in the interim. As coincidence would have it, I was going to school in London when the ‘96 Doctor Who TV movie (starring Paul McGann in the titular role) was to premiere. Unfortunately, I missed it by a day. I flew back, hungover, the next morning. Long story…but I digress.

Shirt Image Owned by Bamboota

Shirt Image Owned by Bamboota

My next Who-sposure occurred on my 30th birthday. While friends and roommates were doing their darnedest to keep me in the dark about a surprise birthday party, I was glued to the SciFi Channel (pre-Siffy). They were having a marathon of the first new series of Doctor Who – the Christopher Eccleston season. It was then that the first fanboy kernels began to pop.

Immortal time-traveling alien that regenerates into different forms (when the replacement of an actor was needed), following the continuity of decades past? I could get behind this. This was sorta my type of sci-fi.

But then I caught the interim special – “A Christmas Invasion – ” where they introduced David Tennant in the regenerated role. And I hated it. Every stinkin’ minute of it. Sci-fi at its worst.

As “luck” would have it, it was Tennant’s run as The Doctor that reinvigorated the series. A whole new generation of Whovians emerged from the Vortex. Most of them were young, and – to my dismay – hip. I wondered why so many late-teens and early-twentysomethings glommed onto Tennant so quickly and I didn’t.

Then it hit me. Pinstripe suit, trench coat, spiky hair, sideburns, Converse…oh my God! Tennant’s Who was a hipster.

What had they done?! After that, I refused to watch it on principle.

Friends showed me some Tennant episodes here and there in the hopes of swaying me to the Who-side of the Force. To their credit, “The Girl in the Fireplace” was a damn good episode, but for the most part, I was uninterested.

When David Tennant’s run ended (to my relief), the role went to Matt Smith. And he was even more hip and more youthfully oddball than Tennant was. Some staunch fan-friends of mine even noted this by dubbing him “The Special Needs Doctor”.

I got a chuckle out of that.

Which brings us to the present…

Last weekend, “The Day of the Doctor” – the 50th anniversary special – was set to premiere. The special promised a team-up of both David Tennant and Matt Smith – the Tenth and Eleventh Doctors, respectively. John Hurt was also cast as an earlier incarnation of the Doctor that hadn’t yet been acknowledged in the series continuity. To top that off were two online mini-episodes that acted as tie-ins to the special. And I had no interest in it Who-so-ever. But a curiosity did linger.

I watched both out of sheer curiosity. The one that grabbed me was “The Night of the Doctor“, a seven-minute short that chronicled how Paul McGann’s incarnation became John Hurt. To put it mildly, my appetite was whetted.

Following that, I watched a parallel special called “The Five(-ish) Doctors Reboot”. It was directed by another Doctor alum – Peter Davison. The mockumentary was star-studded and hilarious. That convinced me to hunt down the 50th anniversary special.

I watched it the Sunday after the initial premiere. And it was…

Glorious!

In my lifetime, I can only name three series that succeeded in blowing the ever-living wad of geekgasmy joy on the small-screen. Those honors belonged to the TV miniseries Farscape: The Peacekeeper Wars, Babylon 5 – episode “Into the Fire”, and Firefly‘s cinematic turn in Serenity. Well, “The Day of The Doctor” trumped all of them. It paid homage to the last fifty years of the series, wrapped up old plot threads, and introduced a new direction to the series. All done to almost-note perfection.

Since then, I’ve time-wasted at least two days’ worth of Netflix binges on the show. I developed a lurking respect for Tennant’s and Smith’s runs as The Doctor, while desiring to start the show from scratch with the Hartnell years.

Sunday, November 24th, 2013 marked the day I officially became a fan of The Doctor.

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Wednesday, November 27th, 2013 Musings 7 Comments

Steampunk or Steaming Pile?

First off, let me preface that this is not going to be an in-depth or well-informed piece about the behemoth that is steampunk. There already exists a tome that does a far better job of that. All this is going to be is one thirtysomething man’s experience and exposure to the sub-genre, and his opinion regarding its proliferation through other media. Are we all clear? Good.

*Curtains!*

Let us flashback to a simpler, more sepia-toned time known as the mid-90s. I was a wide-eyed lad with a few geeky interests, the predominant of which was anime. At a gathering of like-smelling otaku, I was exposed to a filmmaker’s oeuvre that I hadn’t come across before – director, Hayao Miyazaki. Okay, not entirely true. I did watch (and obsess over) Lupin III: The Castle of Cagliostro, but the rest of his works were a mystery to me.

Laputa: The Castle in the Sky all but changed my life. It was whimsical, thoughtful, epic, funny, and possessed a retro-aesthetic I hadn’t considered creatively. Granted, I’d seen the use of steam-powered devices in other Jules Verne-inspired works, but none of those had the effect that Laputa instilled. I later showed it to my then-snot-nosed little brother, and he was equally floored.

Further proto-Internet digging turned up a whole slew of other steam-inspired wares. There was a veritable sub-genre cooked up around the concept of steamtech and Victorian backgrounds. While Laputa wasn’t strictly within the same vein as these other literary works, it was still the perfect gateway.

In the years hence, the sub-genre has churned, growled, grinded and chugged its way into public prominence. The sci-fi genre is literally glutted with steampunkish stories. But there was something I found lacking in these later additions. The “oh-golly-gee-whiz” whimsy was gone, replaced by a grimy, apocalyptic tone.  At first, I wasn’t quite sure why, but then I observed how the sub-genre splintered into other mediums and came to a Layman understanding.

Allow me to explain.

Movies

Alternate histories, retro-future, or pseudo-Victorian fantasy were not new avenues for cinema. What had eluded moviemakers, though, was mainstream success. Steampunk simply wasn’t selling. It was an unwritten rule that if a movie had a dirigible (read: airship) in it, said film was due to fail.

Go ahead, name a successful film with an awesome airship in it. Go on, I dare you. And, no, I’m not just talking about box office success. Critical reception is also key. I’m sure you could name at least one or two, but they’re statistical outliers – damn it. With the exception of animated movies, steampunk hasn’t quite gotten a grip of live-action movie staying power. Part of that might be due to budgetary constraints. Steam is apparently expensive, I…guess.

At the moment, Hollywood (or any other ‘wood, for that matter) is content with including only smatterings of steam in their works. Case in point: Guy Ritchie’s take on Sherlock Holmes. There were clockwork gadgets galore, and both films were moderately successful. However, they weren’t steampunk in the strictest sense. Well, aside from the period setting.

I’m strangely okay with their cautious, if light, touch. Baby steps, Hollywood. Baby steps.

Music

The birth of the steampunk music sub-genre surprised me. Heck, it still surprises me. How a literary genre translated to lyrical works requires further study, and a blog all to itself. Unfortunately, I can’t say I’m a total fan of its development.

© Abney Park

I first learned of steampunk bands through accidental exposure to Abney Park – a Seattle-based EBM group with a most interesting sound and stage presence. They fashion themselves as airship pirates, and their music borrows from several different traditions – Mediterranean, Celtic folk, synth-pop and more. However, Abney Park are the exception, not the rule.

While I won’t be rude and name specific examples – for fear of steam-powered reprisal – I will give an analogy. Imagine visiting a home populated by five-year-olds dressed as turn-of-the-century hobos and hookers. They’ve discovered where the pots and pans are kept. In addition to banging kitchenware, they’ve also found some Fisher Price instruments…and began trashing those as well.

That’s my unfair summation of the steampunk music genre…but not as a whole.

Literature

It is here where steampunk got its start, and where it seems to be fairing the best. While I’m annoyed at the sheer enormity of steampunk works out there, there are several diamonds in the rough. The most notable example – for me – is the first I ever came across – Gail Carriger‘s The Parasol Protectorate.

She isn’t strictly a steampunk authoress per se, yet she does borrow very heavily from the usual tropes of the sub-genre. At least she has the common decency to weave those elements with some semblance of originality – thusly making them her own. That and her books have something that is sadly lacking in others of her ilk. Whimsy!

I’ll admit that my exposure to steamlit is still in its infancy. There are plenty of other authors/authoresses that should be mentioned in this, here, missive. Some good, some mind-numblingly terrible. For the sake of brevity, though, I’ll say just go read for yourself. Annoying, though the genre prevalence is, there are good works out there.

One thing, though: If you – fair reader – run into a book that features a Brass Jesus and a man falling in love with an ape, run…don’t walk…away. Yes, I’ve read it. No, I won’t speak its name. Just trust me on this.

The Culture

And now to the crux of the issue.

Steampunk – as I mentioned earlier – has emerged as the new “thing” in counterculture. For better or worse, it’s here to stay. I’m still torn on where I stand on the issue. I’ve reflected upon how I feel about it in terms of media, but I have resisted coming to a conclusion about it as a movement.

And, yes, it is a movement. Possibly a bowel movement.

Who’s responsible? Two words: The goths.

This is an oversimplification, but the goth subculture has largely identified itself as quasi-social. Goths like to congregate, but only with other goths. They have stuff they’re into, just like any other group. One of those things “was” vampires. I say “was” because their favorite biters have since been visited by the taint of ‘tween literature. You know what book series I’m talking about – the sparkly kind.

Goths – I suppose – needed something else to latch onto. An aesthetic not too far removed from their former creatures of the night. Luckily, they found solace in a whole new (or old) time period, and they didn’t even have to toss out their pseudo-Victorian wardrobe. Just add goggles!

(A sidenote: Steampunk fashion, keep doing what you’re doing. Seriously. Dayamn.)

© Steampunk Couture

© Steampunk Couture

I suppose that is where the dystopian element I so loathed came from. Once goths embraced The Way of Steam, it was only natural the dark sensibilities came with it – post-apocalyptic drudgery and all. There is hope, though.

Goth culture sometimes intermingles with geek culture. And if there’s one thing the geeks are known for its whimsy. (And, no, I won’t stop italicizing that word.) They, too, have embraced the Victorian vehicle, but have taken it in a different direction – one devoid of dreariness.

I shall give an example – a personal one. I have a half-sister – whom I adore – that is as geek-fueled as I am, if not more. She’s into everything from Harry Potter to Doctor Who, and can even trump me on some of the finer facets of geek culture at large. She fell in love with a musical group called Steam Powered Giraffe. And they are awesome! Whimsy personified. To sum them up: Imagine Dixieland, jazz, and a mime school were put in a steam-powered blender. The result would be Steam Powered Giraffe.

Examples like them give me hope for steampunk’s future – retro or not.

Artwork by Laney Norman

Artwork by Laney Norman

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Wednesday, October 24th, 2012 Musings 8 Comments

I work for tea money.

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