ANOTHER ONE BITES THE DUST

I must be getting old. The new Doctor Whos are getting younger and seem to come along with the frequency of a number 12 bus. Almost before I’ve managed to get used to the latest one, he's off to be replaced by the next one.

To be fair, however, Matt Smith’s time “on screen” as the Doctor (from first appearance to last, at least, if not in terms of actual number of episodes), is likely to be just shy of four years which is an entire calendar year longer than both William Hartnell and Patrick Troughton did. William Harnell first appeared on our TV screens on November 23rd 1963, but was gone by the end of October in 1966, and his successor had passed into television history by June 1969, so, in purely calendar terms at least, he’s been around for a while now, so maybe it’s just me getting older that makes it all seem like the blink of an eye...?

For a supposedly immortal race, “barring accidents”, these so-called “Time Lords” do seem to play fast and loose with their many shots at life. Perhaps, if they were human and only had one go at it, they might look after them a bit more.

But then this is the real world where actors have agents and advisors and careers to think about and when they decide that it’s time to move on and do something else, they will do, unless they're someone with a limited range who decides that the part in the long-running soap-opera that they've nabbed is about as cushy a number as they’re ever likely to be offered.

I heard once that Matt Smith’s mum is a bit of a “fan” of “Doctor Who” and had been long before her son ever got handed those keys that were the fast-track to his fame and fortune and almost immediately becoming a household name at a very early stage in his possibly glittering career. Of course, if I was his mum I’d be advising him to not let go of the role unless they had to prise it out of his cold, dead hand, that he would never get another opportunity of having such a high profile and much loved character to play ever again, that people who have a role with such built-in affection sometimes never find anything else where people feel quite the same love towards you.

Luckily for him, I’m not his mum, and I’m sure that she just wishes him well instead.

But there is a long history of people who believe themselves to be so much admired in a part that they forget that its them playing that part that people are enjoying. They can attempt to ride the big wave of that love and hope to take it with them only to crash and burn and fade into obscurity in a whole heap of subsequent failed projects.

Eh Frank Burns…? Eh, Henry Blake…? Eh, Sam Seaborn…?

The public are fickle creatures but also very conservative and they like to put their favourites in nice little pigeon holes and know what they’re getting, which is no doubt very frustrating and restraining for a profession where variety is the spice of life but then again, if you’re not working, you’re not acting…

It’s a pity really because I’d come to quite liked this version of the Doctor, but then, given time, I usually do. He was no Billy Hartnell, of course, but then few of them are, and he did at least attempt to channel the spirit of the mighty Patrick Troughton in his performance, so you do have to give him some credit for doing that.

And now, as is inevitable in these matters, the press are rounding up the usual suspects and speculating as to quite who will be next, and no doubt they’ll be asking “How long do you intend to stay?” almost as soon as the announcement is made, almost immediately after parts of fandom will already be calling for them to go.

All I know is that the “demands” are increasing, in certain circles at least, for the next one to make a gender switch or be from a different ethnic background, all of which might prove interesting or kill the franchise stone dead, depending upon who you believe, and, whilst I’m sure whoever gets it will believe it to be the opportunity of a lifetime, it’s also the kind of thing that can ruin trips to the supermarket with your family and isn’t to be accepted lightly.

Also, this new version of the TV show has been around for a while now and might be getting to the point where a TV executive who wants to make a name for themselves might start looking at the schedule and wondering whether something else might work better in that Saturday evening slot…

It’s happened before, after all… Wheel turns, civilisations rise… wheel turns, civilizations fall…

So it might yet turn out to be the kind of poison chalice that persuades one or two to think twice about accepting the part.

I’m sure that whoever they choose will turn out to be the obvious choice and will either seem perfect or a disaster, but will be a lovely person about whom nobody has a bad word to say. I’m equally sure that the choice will be an absolute disaster and everyone will be wondering “what the hell were they thinking…?” I’m equally sure that they’ll pick someone who I’ll loathe and detest, or someone who I’ve spent many a long year slagging off in the past and about whom I’ll have to do a complete volte face, or not, depending upon quite how awful they are.

I’m equally certain that, whoever it turns out to be, I’ll still be tuning in regardless even if it’s only to finally decide to never watch it again. After all, habits that you’ve had for forty-odd years can be difficult to break and I am, if nothing else, a fickle creature, so no matter how much I hate the new one, I’ll learn to live with it because I’ve always enjoyed the show so much…

So far...