Doctor Who: Smile Review

Frank Cottrell-Boyce returns to Doctor Who this week to introduce Bill to the universe. The author of two of the greatest children's books ever written, some brilliant examples of British cinema and the 2012 Olympic opening ceremony, Cottrell-Boyce also contributed a script to the 2014 series of Who, In the Forest of the Night. Forest was slow but atmospheric, it focused on developing the Danny Pink character, ingratiating him with the audience before his death in the opening scene of the following episode. It possessed a higher-than-high concept and the episode was based around the mystery of finding out what that concept was. The Doctor makes a false assumption about what is going on and almost destroys humanity. Smile is, in most conceivable ways its logical successor.

The central theme of this episode is happiness, and its message is much the same as 2015 film Inside Out. Many of us view happiness as synonymous with goodness. It is good to be happy and it is bad to be sad. To be successful is to be happy and to be sad is to have failed. And yet, happiness is not the appropriate reaction to everything. The death of a loved one shouldn’t incur happiness alone. One should be happy that they have had that time with their loved ones and they should grieve for the fact that those times are over. It would, in fact be disrespectful to the memory of said loved one not to feel deep sadness over their passing. Emotions are complex and understanding that is one of the most important parts of maturing (see Inside Out for full details.) I can’t help but feel that the Doctor’s swipe at the colony as being “The utopia of vacuous teens” is a dig at the entirety of modern internet culture and the “Safe space”, “Trigger warning” attitude that such charming people as Milo Yiannopolous and Stephen Fry like to complain about. When many people first learned that Doctor Who would be introducing “emoji robots” as a villain this season I’m sure that, like me, they were worried about the likely fact that these would be stomach-clenching gimmicks but in fact they turned out to be mere icons in place to represent the deeper themes of the episode.

Smile feels a lot like a Ray Bradbury short story. Lots of walking, lots of character and very subtle plot. Yet, after all of it you’re left feeling changed, as though you have experienced something quite profound. In fact, Bradbury’s classic dystopia Fahrenheit 451 is about a culture that has become homogenised and artless through the fear of making others feel bad.

Smile is a quiet episode. The colour palette is overwhelmed with white, the shots are deep and widely encompassing but contain no more than three or four figures at once, and the cast is mostly contained to The Doctor and Bill. In terms of the limited cast, the episode reminds me of the story Hell Bent in which Peter Capaldi is the only speaking character (with Jenna Coleman making a minuscule cameo as a memory of the recently deceased Clara.) Hell Bent was a story about the grieving process, death and the Doctor’s dangerous resolve. As an episode, it fully succeeds in its purpose, being frightening, dramatic and moving in its own strange way. Smile occupies a slot in the Doctor Who series which traditionally belongs to a light-hearted, thrilling adventure set in the future. Think excitement, think swashbuckling daring-do, think Gridlock, New Earth, The Beast Below and then think again. This episode is only superficially akin to those ones with the strands of its DNA being inherited from the slower, more thoughtful episodes I outlined above. For any viewer going in hoping for a romp, the episode is sure to be a disappointment so how can we measure its success? By working out what its purpose is.

This episode follows in the footsteps first trod by Russel T. Davies when he sent Rose to the future in The End of the World, the episode set the mould for a new companion being thrown in the deep end and rising to the challenges that the universe has to offer. For Rose, the culture shock resulted in a big argument with the Doctor about the rights of a time traveller – why can’t they save the planet earth? How dare he get inside her mind to translate languages for her? The episode finishes with the revelation that The Doctor is the last survivor of his race, that he has seen his planet destroyed as well. The common experience brings the two closer together, their separate viewpoints come a little closer. The resolution of The Beast Below depends on Amy's understanding of the Doctor. She sees in him something that he doesn't see in himself and then transfers that understanding onto the Space Whale. Donna Noble had the hardest time of all, the Doctor opens her mind to the song of the ood and in doing so quite literally shifts her perception. Lines like;

“Donna: But we don’t have slaves at home.

Doctor: Who do you think makes your clothes?”

Are further examples of the ways in which her perceptions are altered. The purpose of these episodes is to alter the companion's perception of the universe and of the Doctor himself. The Doctor’s perception of them shifts too and, as in any friendship, their better understanding brings them closer together. It is entirely appropriate, therefore that Boyce has made this episode about two separate societies that must change the way they think to survive as one.

The notion of shifting perception is demonstrated time and time again in the dialogue in the jokes which play around with the contrasting ways in which Bill comprehends her new world and the way that the Doctor perceives it. 

“All traps are beautiful. That’s how they work.”

“What’s the opposite of a massacre? In my experience, a lecture.”

“In the future, we don’t eat living things we eat algae.” “I met an emperor made of algae once. He fancied me.”

The script just sparkles with wit that is born from The Doctor’s alien perception of interaction and humanity. Even Nardole’s brief appearance in the episode plays into this theme. He knocks on the door and with the demeanour of a scolded little boy, The Doctor labels him “Mum” placing Nardole in the position of power. It is a send-up of everything that we know about the part-time, male companion. Adam, Mickey, Rory and even Captain Jack have all been downtrodden by The Doctor’s alpha-masculine brilliance, and trampled underfoot by the estrogenic-superiority of the female companion. And yet, here is Nardole, portrayed as bumbling, obese and subservient taking the Doctor to task.  Again and again, our perception is twisted and altered as Bill’s is of The Doctor’s and as The Doctor’s is of Bill.

As the show goes on we have seen the writers struggle in introducing each new companion, to keep this repetitive story fresh. As far back as the second companion Martha, who complains that it feels as though The Doctor is just repeating what he did with Rose – “Ever heard the word rebound?” The problem of keeping the companion’s introduction to the past and future fresh reached its lowest point with Clara who, despite having a huge, intriguing, timey mystery woven around her still had to go through the same, drab emotional beats that we had seen four times before. The Rings of Ahkhaten is disliked and this is probably because its subject matter has been squeezed dry by the show. For this reason, I appreciated the way that Cottrell-Boyce’s script kept the big revelations about The Doctor’s being to a dramatic low. He announces that he has two hearts, and Bill takes a moment to come to terms with this but The Doctor, like the audience just move on.

I liked the low-key tone of this episode for several reasons. The episode may be light on plot points but the result feels to me like taking a leisurely afternoon stroll with friends in a foreign city. Our time with The Doctor and Bill is pleasant, un-taxing and made me fully realise why someone would wish to spend time with the Doctor. For me, it feels a lot like Richard Curtis’ script Vincent and the Doctor. A low-stakes adventure where the audience just spend time in the company of Doctor, Companion and an incredible person from history. The sights are beautiful and the characters live and breathe. In Smile, instead of meeting a guest character, it is the companion that we are getting to know. It’s an elegant way of  continuing the introduction of a companion.

Most of what I want to convey is encapsulated with the repeated meme of the haddock. Much like in Hell Bent the Doctor seeds the solution to the problem by viewing it through a fable. The bird that ground down a mountain in Hell Bent and the haddock which didn’t think like a person in Smile. I adore this story-telling device. For a Doctor who fills his TARDIS with books and lectures in a university it makes perfect sense for him to view the world through stories. This again is reflected in Bill who assimilates the world around her by comparing it to the science fiction that she consumes. It connects the characters in a more subtle way than having a great speech or act of heroism define their burgeoning relationship.

In strange, interesting and engaging ways Frank Cottrell-Boyce succeeds in exploring, expanding and making me more invested in the Doctor/ Bill friendship which is coming to be one of the most natural and demonstrably functional in the series. It’s not necessary for Bill to be an “impossible girl” or a “girl with a crack in her wall,” she and the Doctor just get on. They enjoy spending time with each other and I enjoy spending time with them. The script sparkles and the themes are relevant and resonant in modern times. It’s an episode that I can see myself returning to numerous times in years to come. Series 10 is on a winning streak.