My Adventures in Fandom (Part 2)

Welcome to my extremely complicated love-hate relationship with Doctor Who. Prepare for spoilers.A few weeks ago, I finally gave in to my friends’ pleas. I opened up the file of the first episode of season one: Rose. That was the moment when I officially sold my soul to British television.

At first, I really liked Rose. She was nice, spunky, smart. A great companion for the Doctor. Let it not remain unsaid, though, that she was terrible to Mickey. I mean, anyone with eyes can see that it hurt Mickey to watch Rose leave him time and time again for the Doctor.

But what did Rose do? Instead of doing the good thing and telling Mickey the truth – that she loved the Doctor – she let Mickey just hang there. Like a dog, always waiting.

She also acted horribly to her mother. Yes, it must be hard to walk the path of a single mother. The only thing Jackie had left was her daughter. But what was her daughter doing? Oh, even Jackie didn’t know that – at least until some time later.

Poor Jackie. Poor Mickey. And in time, poor Doctor.

The first time I watched Doomsday, it wrecked me to see the Doctor like that. To see both of them like that. Each one stuck in two parallel universes, with no way of ever establishing contact with each other again. It was obvious at this point that they both developed romantic feelings for each other.

Let’s move to season three. Although I haven’t finished watching the entirety of it yet, I’ve watched enough episodes to know that the Doctor was a huge jerk towards Martha. Yes, I understand, Doctor – it must suck to be separated from the woman you love like that. I don’t mean it sarcastically, though. I mean it. It must suck, although this was bound to happen; it just happened sooner rather than later.

Instead of picking up the pieces and pulling himself together into the man he was before, he traveled with Martha. One more trip, one more trip, he kept telling her. Martha was left feeling like a passenger, like she was the third wheel in the Doctor’s trips, like she never quite measured up to the Doctor’s expectations.

Even though eventually, Martha put her foot down, it still doesn’t sit well with me. This type of thing, this sort of mistake – it was the writer’s fault. Well, maybe this’ll change in the future episodes. I don’t know. All I can do, really, is keep watching. But so far, I can tell you this: I love its characters, its plot, and basically everything else there is to love about a British sci-fi. Even though I’m only about three seasons in, I love Doctor Who. I’m hooked, and you can’t stop me. Unless you have a pretty good reason – like, let’s say, a terrible episode. Let’s hope there’s no such thing as that.


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