The Movie vs. Demons of the Punjab
We’re back, and it’s about time. For this post, the Randomiser is transporting us to the Humanian year of our Time Lord 1996 – 27 May to be precise (or 14 May if you happened to be in the US) – for the one-off Eighth Doctor episode of Doctor Who, which I will refer to in this blog as ‘The Movie’, and to 11 November 2018 for Thirteenth Doctor tale Demons of the Punjab.
Doctor Who: The Movie
When Doctor Who returned to our screens in 1996 – as a 86-minute episode starring Paul McGann, co-produced by the BBC and the US Fox network – having been off-air for six-and-a-half years, a lot of consideration was given to whether it should be presented as a continuation of the series last seen on television in 1989, or re-booted and offered as something completely new, so as not to confuse the broad international audience it hoped to attract. Who to risk alienating? Tens of millions potential new viewers in North America and around the world, whose enthusiasm for the revived show was key to the hopes of a one-off story being commissioned as a full series? Or the significantly smaller number of longstanding fans of the show, based largely in the UK, who were probably considered a bit odd and a bit grumpy but incredibly loyal keepers of the flame? Annoy these die-hards by not remaining faithful to the Doctor Who they loved and remembered, and one risked creating a show without a history, without a soul. Fail to engage the interest of a much broader new audience and there would be no future for the show. It was a bit of a trolley problem.
I guess Russell T. Davies and the BBC chewed over similar questions when the show was more successfully revived in 2005, but perhaps it wasn’t quite such an issue in an era of better-established global digital connectivity. References to Doctor Who’s legacy in the new series would have been relatively easy for new audiences to research and understand. Even so, they were drip-fed into the lifeblood of New Who for the first couple of seasons at least. In 1996, ‘The Movie’ made a bit of a fudge of the matter, seeming on the one hand to want to create a brand new narrative (new rules: the Doctor can see people’s futures and turn back time, he is half-human, the Eye of Harmony is inside the TARDIS, the Daleks are some sort of galactic judiciary), while on the other hand dropping in a few surprising blasts from the past, pleasing for loyalists but unnecessary and probably rather confusing for newbies (Sylvester McCoy as the Seventh Doctor, the Master in Gallifreyan robes).
I was one of the loyal, and I appreciated the fanservice. It probably contributed to The Movie’s failure to gain a full series commission, but ah well … what’s done is done. It was a long time ago, and just look what we have now. For me, The Movie is something on which to look back and enjoy. It was something special in its moment.
The nineties were a Doctor Who-lite decade. This one-off aside, there were no new episodes on the TV. I got on with life: had a few years at university, got a job, got married, bought a house, established a career as a publisher. I grew a beard, grew my hair a bit longer, went on some nice holidays, watched lots of football, read lots of books, tried smoking (didn’t like it). In my twenties, growing up, nineteen-nineties sorts of things. Doctor Who was something I still loved and thought about a lot (I had my friend Dene to thank for that, rekindling my interest in 1989). The Virgin New Adventures novels held my interest for two or three years at the start of the nineties, but Who was gradually becoming a nostalgic interest, something about which to fondly reminisce.
So maybe it didn’t seem too much of a surprise that The Movie didn’t turn into anything more … a shame, a disappointment, but not a tragedy because I don’t think my expectations had ever been too high.
I remember watching it, in the little maisonette we were renting in Streatham. Dene was there, visiting from Northern Ireland over the May bank holiday. Like many fans, I believe, we bought the VHS a day or two before the episode was aired on BBC1 (most probably at HMV or Virgin Megastore or Forbidden Planet, off Tottenham Court Road in the centre of London – we went to those places a lot), and then we deliberated over whether we should watch the video before the official broadcast. It seemed wrong to do so, somehow … cheating. I’m pretty sure we did cheat, at least by watching the pre-credits sequence and opening titles, but that was all.
I’ll confess this now: I really love those opening titles. They don’t seem to be widely loved among fans, but they give me goosebumps every time. The Doctor’s voice-over – ‘It was a request they should never have granted.’ – the Master’s snake eyes shooting towards the viewer, the crashing in of that synthesised Middle 8 and John Debney’s thumping theme tune … I still find it all very exciting. It was very nineties, very American, but it was setting Doctor Who up us something that really could be big and relevant and proud. Even if it never quite fulfilled that promise, it was good that it tried.
There are plenty of enjoyable moments and scenes throughout the story. All of McCoy’s extended cameo at the beginning brings great pleasure – it’s so nice to see Seven at the end of what presumably has been a long ‘life’, relaxing into some sort of retirement mode. All the supporting cast – Daphne Ashbrook, Eric Roberts and Yee Jee Tso – seem to be having a whale of a time. There are some terrific lines (‘I know you. You're tired of life, but afraid of dying.’ ‘But it was a childish dream that made you a doctor. You dreamt you could hold back death. Isn't that true?’; ‘I love humans. Always seeing patterns in things that aren't there.’), and some memorable moments (the Doctor’s post-regeneration stumble through the disused wing of the hospital, a nightmare of mirrors and clocks; walking through the glass window of Grace’s home as Earth’s molecular stability begins to decay). It is also pretty funny in places – Roberts’ Master in particular.
And McGann is quite unique as a Doctor: poetic and mysterious, soft and steely, flickering like an eager flame. While this is the Doctor who claims to be half-human, he presents as the most alien of all the Doctors, talking to humans with compassion while seeming to observe them in wonderment, as if he’s swimming among tropical fish in a coral reef. There’s a sort of The Man Who Fell To Earth quality to him, or perhaps E.T., and of course there are a few references to Christ; mythologies of a supernatural individual who arrives on Earth an innocent and rapidly outgrows humanity, is hunted down and then becomes saviour. I’m not sure the Doctor was ever presented quite this way prior to The Movie, but it seems fairly in keeping with New Series readings of the Time Lord.
Something about The Movie doesn’t quite work for me. Possibly it’s the overall tone of it, so nineties American TV drama – it has the feels of The X-Files, E.R., Star Trek: The Next Generation – but that shouldn’t be a problem in itself. Doctor Who changes constantly, and this was its natural form for the context in which it was produced. There’s a slight schmaltziness to it, but then there has been plenty of that since 2005 too. I think the reason for my slight disappointment with the episode has to be the much-maligned resurrection of Grace and Chang Lee at its end, and the Doctor’s ‘What a sentimental old thing this TARDIS is’ line. It devalues the show, and removes any sense of jeopardy from future adventures this Doctor in his gothic cathedral of a time machine may have gone on to have.
Just one other thing I wanted to say about The Movie. Rewatching it this time I was reminded of the scene in which the Doctor tells Grace that he has keeps a spare TARDIS key above the door, ‘in a cubbyhole above the ‘P’’. I had completely forgotten about this. It would have made more sense of what Shaz and I noticed when we attended the recent The Stuff of Legend live audio play recording at Cadogan Hall in London, starring Paul McGann as the Eighth Doctor. From our balcony seats just above the stage we were looking down directly on to the TARDIS, and we spotted a small Yale key attached to a nail just above the Police Box sign. I wrote to Doctor Who Magazine about this, and was rewarded with a prize for ‘Star Letter’ (my second of 2024!), but I now feel a little embarrassed for not having recognised what was presumably a deliberate reference to the Eighth Doctor’s TARDIS key in The Movie. Ah well. Still, seeing McGann play the Eighth Doctor in person – 28 years after this episode’s broadcast – was both odd and a huge privilege. He was a terrific Doctor, and it would be lovely to see him return to the screen again sometime soon.
Demons of the Punjab
Demons of the Punjab is a beautiful episode of Doctor Who. Visually and musically, it’s absolutely stunning throughout, it fulfils an educational remit by introducing modern-day viewers to the context of the Partition of India, and it has significant things to say about where we are headed as a global society today. Aspects of the ‘awkward’ nature of so much of Chris Chibnall’s Thirteenth Doctor era (overcrowded TARDIS crew, over-expounded script) are evident, but perhaps less distracting because of the overall quality of the production and the compelling storyline. It is a high point of the show at its time, emblematic of what I think Chibnall wanted his Doctor Who to be. Particular credit should be given to writer Vinay Patel and director Jamie Childs, and all those responsible for creating the story we see on screen.
Segun Akinola’s incredible soundtrack, enhanced for this story by the vocals of Shahid Abbas Khan, is an integral part of the Demons of the Punjab experience, as is the cinematography (cleverly filmed in Spain). Everything contributes to making this a unique episode in the history of the show.
The story seems risky. It’s about a particular point in history that involved many people still alive today, and many more descendants for whom the Partition and its consequences are critical parts of their history. Mixing that up with aliens could have seemed insensitive. Not only that but it links those events to Yaz, a regular cast member, through her grandmother Umbreen. If they were presented ham-fistedly, Yaz as an important character could have been tainted by that. It all feels as though this is dangerous territory, a crossing of the line between fiction and reality. But then, this is a story about boundaries; they can offer safety, clarity and protection, but we should choose our own boundaries – when they are imposed upon us they can divide and harm. Demons of the Punjab needed to be carefully written, and I think it was.
For a time in which it sometimes felt that there was not a lot of character development for the Doctor’s companions (for example, Ryan in this story seems utterly redundant), we learn a lot about Yaz in Demons of the Punjab. The short scene at the start of the show in which she celebrates Umbreen’s birthday with her parents and sister tells us a lot about her and their personalities and the family dynamics. The we see a demanding, entitled Yaz, imploring the Doctor to use the TARDIS to help her uncover her grandmother’s secrets. Of course, this is a Pandora’s Box storyline, as we have seen previously on the show – the TARDIS is a wonderful, magical machine but it has offered temptations too great for the likes of Rose, Ruby and Yaz to resist.
Yaz has to face up to what she learns about Umbreen’s past, and struggles initially to accept the truth that her grandfather was not her Nani’s first husband, then to allow the tragic death of Prem that will break her grandmother’s heart – even though her own existence depends on it. It’s a good tale, well written and well acted; I found it very moving, a storyline that will stay in my mind.
As mentioned, Ryan could well have sat this story out. The same could have been true of Graham, as the pair of them are little more than observers – witnesses, to events and to the wedding, mirrors perhaps to the Thijarians who are witnesses to death – but with limited impact on the plot. Graham’s role is redeemed, in my opinion, by the little conversation he has with Yaz outside the farm house. ‘I honestly don't know whether any of us know the real truth of our own lives, cos we're too busy living them from the inside. So just enjoy it, Yaz. Live this moment and figure it out later.’ I’m not sure that I completely agree with this – the search for discovering the truth about ourselves is an important part of living – but I do think that ‘living them from the inside’ is a crucial part of the process. We learn by living, not by having the answers revealed to us by a time-travelling magician, which I think it what Graham is trying to say. It’s a little similar to what Grace said to the Doctor at the end of The Movie when he tried to warn her about something in her future: ‘I know who I am, and that’s enough.’
Another interesting line from Graham is his ‘All we can strive to be is good men,’ to Prem’s despair at the oncoming storm of Partition (‘Now we're being told our differences are more important than what unites us. Like we learned nothing in the war. I don't know how we protect people, when hatred's coming from all sides.’). This is where I feel Demons of the Punjab attempts to speak directly to the terrible state of our world today, in particular to the radicalisation (towards bigotry, nationalism, racism, sexism, homophobia, ableism, transphobia, fascism, zionism – all the right-wing hatreds) of young people, especially young men, across the world. ‘He spends too much time reading pamphlets, listening to angry men on the radio,’ says Prem of his brother Manish; this sounds like a direct reference to all those young men in thrall to the hateful insanities of Tate, Jones, Trump, Musk, Robinson and the rest.
What can any of us do to combat the evil tides of history? Fight, I suppose, if and when the right opportunity comes along. As individuals the greatest defence we can offer is to strive to be good men and women, to fight our own battles, to stand up for what is right for ourselves and for community – to wait for and seek the day that all these little battles fought every day around the world are joined together, and become a counter-wave in themselves. Perhaps it’s the long way round – it seems quite Doctorish. Making good TV dramas with a strong, positive message can be one of those little fights – all the more so if it’s a drama about remembrance rather than glorifying conflict, first broadcast on Remembrance Sunday and the centenary of Armistice Day. Each of us can do what we can.
Connections
Both The Movie and Demons of the Punjab are set on key dates in Earth’s history – Millennium and Partition – one set in the programme’s future at time of broadcast, and one set in the past.
‘The fixed force of time cannot be stopped,’ decree the Thijarians (and the Doctor agrees), but it seems there is a huge danger of it being diverted all over the place in both stories. Yaz is warned not to affect the course of history (‘The wrong word in the wrong moment, you could interfere yourself out of existence.’), while the Doctor seems quite happy to allow the TARDIS to turn back the clock to bring Grace and Chang Lee back to life. Rules are clearly made to be broken.
Both stories have death as a central theme. The Movie is about cheating death – the Doctor, the Master, Grace and Chang Lee all rise again having apparently died, and Grace’s fascination with the Doctor seems partly to be because he fulfils her childhood dream of holding back death. By notable contrast, Demons of the Punjab respects death as a part of life, the Thijarians acting as galactic witnesses to those who have died alone. Doctor Who does occasionally treat the realities of death, and grieving, with wisdom and sensitivity, and Vinay Patel’s tale is one of the more mature examples of that. I wrote this blog post with the 2024 Christmas special Joy to the World fresh in mind, and that for me was a case of Who treating death rather insensitively – something that can be made that little bit easier to cope with through the wave of a fantastical wand (a Steven Moffat trope). Demons of the Punjab was a welcome palate cleanser.
The item that kick-starts events in Demons of the Punjab is a broken wristwatch – the glass and internal mechanisms shattered at the point in time when Umbreen married Prem. The Movie also features a broken timepiece, as the Doctor causes Professor Wagg’s atomic clock to fail when he steals its beryllium chip to fix his TARDIS.
Both stories see evidence of the TARDIS’s telepathic circuits. In Demons of the Punjab, Graham is surprised to learn that the machine is telepathic when the Doctor says she [the TARDIS] can navigate by telepathically linking in to the broken watch. In The Movie, the Master suggests that the TARDIS will open the Eye of Harmony (and perform other functions) if it ‘likes’ the person trying to operate it, in this instance Chang Lee.
If we want to really scrape around for connections, I thought the Eye of Harmony when closed looked a little like the half-hidden dome of the Thijarian’s hive, both scattered with autumnal leaves. A more eggs-cellent connection is that chickens play an important role in both stories – blocking the San Francisco highway in The Movie, and supplying poo as a crucial part of the Doctor’s contraption for analysing the Thijarian’s mysterious particles.
Both stories open with a nice cup of tea and a slice of cake – well, a bowl of jelly babies rather than tea in the case of The Movie, but it all looks delicious.
Unusually, both stories end with a unique theme tune over the credits. Neither John Debney’s movie theme nor Segun Akinola’s ‘Yaz and Nani End Credits (feat. Shahid Abbas Khan)’ have ever been used on another official TV broadcast of the show. In an even more unlikely and utterly inconsequential connection, Debney was born on 18 August 1956, nine years to the very day following the date Umbreen’s marriage to Prem.
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