An ancient God trapped since before the dawn of time. An enigmatic old man who feeds on people's nightmares. References to the Eternals, the Guardians, and the Toymaker. Enough dour expressions and angst to make even the cheeriest of us question our place in the universe. In many ways, Can You Hear Me? wouldn't have felt out of place in the 1990s series of Doctor Who books that continued the adventures of the Seventh Doctor from the point that the classic show ended but took it in a radical new and more (cough) adult direction. If you want to know what one of those books would look like in television form then this is probably about as close as you're going to get (apart from the more obvious example of the direct adaptation of Paul Cornell's Human Nature of course).
But this being Doctor Who in 2020, we also need a modern theme. The show has tackled mental health before, most notably in Vincent and the Doctor, but this is a much more direct confrontation of the issue, and it does this by framing it in terms of our regular characters. I'm not convinced it has anything particularly revelatory to say about the issue, but the message is simple: if you find yourself in need, then ask for help. It's not a bad message for Doctor Who to be conveying, and scrolling the internet after the episode aired, it's clear that it connected with quite a few people. That's no bad thing, even if I'm disappointed that a show with such limitless potential couldn't find a new and interesting perspective on this most important of topics.
In doing this, we finally finally get some kind of backstory for Yaz. It smacks faintly of desperation on the part of the writers, as if they've just noticed that the character is leaving in three weeks time and we still barely know a single thing about her. But, hey, I'll take it. The revelation that Yaz disappeared a number of years ago and (unspoken but implied) was on the verge of taking her own life because she was being bullied at school is powerful and hard-hitting stuff. The problem is that it's terribly underdeveloped. We never see the bullying. We've never had the suggestion before that it's made a lasting impression on Yaz, and the idea that she has an anniversary dinner with her sister every year to mark her disappearance is just plain weird. There's a really great idea underneath all this, and those few scenes at the end give Mandip Gill the chance to shine in a way she hasn't had the opportunity to do before, but it needed so much more work. It's the kind of concept that deserves an entire episode devoted to it, not just an afterthought because there's so much else going on. If anything, it makes me even more frustrated that so much potential in the character has been wasted.
But Yaz isn't the only character who goes through the mill this episode. We also get a glimpse of the other character's fears and nightmares as well. For the Doctor and Ryan, this is just a fleeting moment, in the Doctor's case connected to the season arc of the Timeless Child. But for Graham, it's a much more substantial and emotionally effective scene. I empathise enormously with Graham's fear that his cancer might return and the fact that the news is delivered by Grace, seen for the first time since Series 11, makes it a particularly devastating blow. Sharon D Clarke does a typically excellent job in the few moments that she is on screen, and it's a good reminder of why Graham's journey was by far the most emotionally satisfying part of last season. Grace, how we miss you.
Oh yes, and there's some kind of story about evil God-like beings who detach their fingers and use them to steal people's nightmare energy. There's actually quite a lot to like about this storyline. The visuals are suitably nightmarish, and Ian Gelder gives a great performance as Zellin. The detachable fingers are a bit of a gimmick but it makes for a pretty unsettling effect. The problem is that it's all very, and here's that word again, underdeveloped. The villains are only framed in terms of what they're not and we never really get a satisfactory explanation of who they are. The resolution is all too simple as well. The Doctor just blurts some technobabble, waves the sonic screwdriver, and suddenly they're trapped in their prison again. It's unimaginative and all very unsastisfying.
But there's also one thing about the episode I find pretty unforgivable and that's the scene that caused so much controversy after it aired. Graham admits to the Doctor his fears of his cancer returning and she...says she's socially awkward and gives him the brush off. Look, I get it. The Doctor is an alien and conversations about mental health can be difficult. But the Doctor is also a character that has an almost infinite capacity for empathy and compassion. For her seemingly not to understand how Graham is feeling is just wrong. Whether that was the intention or not is pretty irrelevant, as that's the message that is conveyed. The scene is clearly supposed to be played for laughs but it's painfully unfunny. It's perhaps an unfair comparison as his was the most mature interpretation of the character, but I keep wondering how Peter Capaldi's Doctor would have handled that conversation, and the Thirteenth Doctor doesn't come out of that thought looking very good.
Ultimately, this is an episode with a number of good, but half-baked, ideas. You can write a story about 14th century Middle Eastern attitudes towards mental health set in Aleppo, or about Gods that feed on nightmares and trick the Doctor into freeing them from their eternal prison, or about the troubled past of one of the companions. Trying to do all three is just too ambitious and it ends with a story that is all over the place. It's not the worst episode of the Chibnall era (far from it) because it's actually trying to do something interesting. But in trying to do too much, it ends up being a noble failure.
Random musings
- I complained about the overuse of globetrotting in the previous episode and it's even worse here. There's literally no reason for any of this to be set in 14th century Aleppo and it does a disservice to the setting, which would make a great location for a whole story, that it is so wasted. The same goes for the character of Tahira, who ends up as little more than window dressing while the episode focuses on other people.
- Ryan's greatest fear is Orphan 55. And so say all of us.
- The animation scene feels pretty out of place to be honest. It's cool that the show is trying something new, but it doesn't really work for me.
- The early part of this episode feels like a good opportunity to explore how this Doctor behaves when the "fam" aren't around. Turns out it's exactly the same as when they are.
Verdict
I can't fault the ambition of this episode. It tries a number of new ideas (and even new storytelling devices through its use of animation) but so many of them are underdeveloped that the story as a whole fails to land. It tackles an important theme but fails to bring a new perspective to it. On the whole, a missed opportunity.
Rating
5/10
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