The following contains spoilers for “73 Yards.”

Russell T. Davies admits his writing eschews narrative formalism in favor of things that just feel right. Two decades ago, his critics pointed to his use of deus ex machina endings as a stick to beat his reputation with. But we’re in a different era now, where vibes matter just as much as logic — both inside the show’s new more fantastic skew, and in the real world. “73 Yards” is the vibiest episode of new Doctor Who so far, but I even found it easy to sit back and enjoy what it was doing.

Doctor Who is a complicated show to make, and some series have started production on Day 1 a week or more behind schedule. To combat this, the show started making “-lite” episodes that didn’t need the leads to be as involved. There are “Doctor-lite” episodes like “Love and Monsters” and “Blink,” and even “companion-lite” episodes like “Midnight.” This production process enables the star, or stars, to be off shooting Episode A while a guest cast takes the spotlight for the bulk of Episode B.

Production of the new series began while star Ncuti Gatwa was still finishing the last of his work on Netflix’s Sex Education. So while he appears in the opening and closing moments of "73 Yards", he’s otherwise absent as the Doctor has been erased from history. It gives us the chance to see what a modern companion would do if left stranded in uncertain territory without her alien ally. The episode takes hard turns from folk and rural horror to kitchen-sink drama before becoming a light homage to Taxi Driver. Suffice to say, this is another episode you wouldn’t watch with small kids.

Bad Wolf / BBC Studios

The TARDIS lands on a cliff edge in Wales, with the Doctor pointing out it’s another liminal space where magic is allowed to creep in. He even mentions the war between the “land and the sea,” name-checking a rumored spin-off fans discovered after scouring production documents. The Doctor talks about how great a country Wales is, except for Roger ap Gwillam, a Welsh politician who, two decades hence, will lead the UK to the brink of nuclear armageddon. He then steps into a fairy ring, disturbing its web, and disappears while Ruby reads the paper notes tied to it. The notes mention a Mad Jack, a scary figure that sounds like a villain from folklore.

Suddenly, Ruby is alone on the cliff but can now see the blurry figure of an old woman waving her arms at her in the distance. Ruby tries to approach her but the figure remains the same distance away (the titular 73 yards) no matter where she goes. Believing the Doctor has ghosted her, she tries to solve the quandary of this figure on her own. Ruby approaches a hiker (Susan Twist) and tries to work out where she’s seen her before (every episode thus far), but can’t quite put her finger on it. She asks the hiker if she’d be willing to speak to the old woman who is following her, but when the hitchhiker gets there, whatever she says is so horrifying that she sprints away from the scene in terror.

Ruby heads to a pub in the nearby town where the locals mock her — mistaking her hesitancy for condescension. She asks one of the patrons to go speak to the woman and, when he does, the same thing happens. Ruby gets home and asks her mum to try, this time holding a phone so Ruby can hear what she’s saying. But the phone call is disrupted and her mum is similarly horrified by what she hears — locking Ruby out of her home soon after. Kate Lethbridge-Stewart and UNIT are next to offer aid, right up until they encounter the woman, when they all abandon her.

Bad Wolf / BBC Studios

All the time, the old woman remains 73 yards away from wherever Ruby is, unnoticed by everyone else unless Ruby directs their attention to her. She can’t photograph the woman's face — it's blurry — and can’t get close enough to hear her ominous warning. In fact, even to the end of the episode, there’s a lot of unknowns that are never resolved.

Ruby’s strangely resilient, and once she’s gotten beyond the abandonment, she looks to build a new life for herself. She treats her stalker as a friend, wishing her well as we cycle through a montage of the next chapter of Ruby’s life. She gets a job, moves into her own flat and goes through a series of breakups as she gently ages past 30, and then 40. Then, on the TV, she sees Roger ap Gwillam on the TV, who even mentions Mad Jack, and remembers both the Doctor’s warning and the messages in the fairy ring. It takes Ruby no time at all to be sure that her purpose in life is to save the world, and to avert Gwillam’s nuclear catastrophe.

She signs up to Gwillam’s fascist political party as a volunteer and eventually reaches a position where she’s close to the top. Gwillam’s rise is quick and it’s not long before he’s promising to secede from NATO and put his itchy trigger finger on the UK’s nuclear arsenal, ready to wage war on the rest of the world. Gwillam’s inauguration will take place at Cardiff City Stadium, while Ruby follows the politician along, lurking in the crowd.

Bad Wolf / BBC Studios

Ruby then starts to approach Gwillam, walking across the off-limits pitch at the stadium, and you expect her to pull out a weapon. But instead, she whips out her phone and starts measuring the distance between her and Roger until she reaches 73 yards. When she does, she gestures to the villain to notice the woman, and when he notices her, he hears the horrifying thing she says. The shock is enough to send Gwillam racing out of the stadium, resigning from the role of Prime Minister and preventing nuclear armageddon.

But while Ruby hoped that would be the end of it, the figure remains with her for the rest of her life. It’s only on her deathbed she realizes she can project herself back in time to act as a warning for the Doctor to not step in the fairy ring. She does so, preventing the accident in the first place and paradoxically nullifying the entire time stream in the process. History carries on its merry way and all is well… for now. But given the risks of paradoxes in Doctor Who, and the general sense that history is unraveling, it might not augur too well for what’s going to happen in the future.

Bad Wolf / BBC Studios

“73 Yards” is an exercise in putting your character in a hostile world and seeing what they’ll do to deal with it. It’s an episode that, when written down, doesn’t feel like a lot happens, because so much of its runtime is an exploration of Ruby as a character. Doctor Who thrives when the companion role is occupied by someone who wants to grab a fistful of narrative for themselves. And Ruby Sunday seems almost too perfect in her ability to draw out the logic from what she’s experienced and work within it.

Much as you can draw narrative and thematic parallels between the new series and Davies’ original tenure, this episode pulls from “Turn Left.” Both tell the story of what happens to a companion when the Doctor is withdrawn from the narrative and what they do to fix that wrong. And it’s no surprise both suggest that the UK, without the intervention of the Doctor, is only a few days away from tipping over into fascism.

Ruby’s humanity shines, even to the point where she’s trying to treat her tormentor with care. She refuses to fly, or travel by boat, lest she endanger the life of the apparition that’s following her, despite how much damage it causes to her life. And when she sees Roger ap Gwillam on the TV, she’s certain that her destiny is to prevent the nuclear armageddon the Doctor warned her about. This is another useful thread — the idea that Ruby has an instinctive grasp of the genre she exists in — much as she did in “Space Babies.”

As for the ending, it’s probably best we talk about those “vibes,” or the sort of slightly skewed associations in the show’s logic. Ruby, at the end of her life, realizes that she’s able to travel, or project herself somehow, through time to avert the Doctor’s fall. There’s nothing in the episode that points to it, no hint that the ghostly figure is Ruby, or if this is tied to the snow or anything else. But perhaps, the trick to an episode like this is simply to let yourself relax and enjoy seeing the character evolve, rather than anything more.

Susan Twist Corner

Obviously, Susan Twist plays the hiker that Ruby first encounters after the Doctor disappears and, for the first time, Ruby notices the familiarity. In the materials that Disney sends along that Susan Twist’s character is named the “mystery woman.”

And on the subject of twists, you’ll recall at the end of “Church on Ruby Road” that, in the post-credits, Mrs Flood (Anita Dobson) breaks the fourth wall. The annoying neighbor character, who lives next to Ruby’s mum’s flat, turns to the camera and asks if we’ve “Never seen a TARDIS before?” (Given her surprise at seeing it earlier in the episode, it’s clear her history may have been changed during the course of the show.) When Ruby heads back to her mum’s house, Anita Dobson’s Mrs Flood is back sitting on her step with her deckchair out. Interestingly, when she notices the ghostly figure — and Ruby and her Mum’s attempts to deal with it, she declares that it’s “nothing to do with me” and goes inside. Which, again, feels like a hint that Mrs Flood and the mystery woman are separate

The following contains spoilers for “Boom.”

It should be a given any new series needs time to find its footing, even when it’s a revival of an already-running hit. The first three episodes of “new” Doctor Who have been fun, but not without their own idiosyncrasies that made them hard to love. Now it’s time for Steven Moffat, the series’ greatest 21st century writer, to show what this new season can do. There’s the usual degree of showboating and cleverness, but it’s hard to deny the man’s genius when he pens the first genuine classic of the Disney+ era. Bloody hell.

“Boom” thrusts the Doctor and Ruby into the smallest corner of a war, and lets it play out in microcosm. This is an angry story about how money, power and cruelty make people inhuman, and is the sort of episode Doctor Who excels at. This story makes no bones about the pointlessness of war and why money is the engine that keeps it going. Its framing may be modern — there’s one too many uses of the word “algorithm” here — but its central thesis is timeless.

Bad Wolf / BBC Studios

In a wasteland battlefield on Kastarian 3, two militarized Anglican clerics are walking back to base. Carson (Majid Mahdizadeh-Valoujerdy) is leading his friend, John Francis Vater (Joe Anderson) who has been blinded in the fighting, an injury that’ll take four weeks to recover from. In the distance, they spot an ambulance but seem afraid of it and look to go the long way around it. Carson loses his footing and slips into a small crater, activating a land mine that instantly obliterates him. The disturbance summons the ambulance, a tank-tracked device with a large screen with an apparently friendly avatar (Susan Twist) which injects its tendrils into Vater, identifying his injury. It decides that four weeks is an unacceptable amount of time for recovery and terminates him instead. His scream is heard by the Doctor, who sprints out of the TARDIS to help but winds up putting one foot on the exact same mine that killed Carson.

Ruby arrives to find the Doctor frozen in place, asking her to describe what he’s standing on: A Villengard mine. It’s an anti-personnel explosive made by a notorious weapons manufacturer that Moffat has referenced several times before. The Doctor asks Ruby to find something heavy for him to hold, so that he can shift his weight and put his foot down without triggering the mine. What she finds is Vater’s compacted remains bolted to an AI canister containing a simulacrum of Vater. The Doctor asks Ruby to throw it to him, but she instead opts to walk within the blast range and hand it over. It affirms the dynamic that as Gatwa’s Doctor has vacated the role of big-chested hero, Ruby has stepped in to fill the void.

The mine is, however, unsure if the Doctor is a viable target, and so remains frozen on the edge of activation. Villengard’s weapons are notoriously vicious and the company has created a warfare algorithm to limit the number of bodies in the battle zone at one time, while also dragging wars on profitably and indefinitely. It gives the company license to slay the wounded rather than spending the cash to cure them.

Bad Wolf / BBC Studios

Before he died, Vater was speaking to his daughter Splice (Caoilnn Springall), who was brought along to the war as there was no-one else to look after her. While her father was on patrol, she had been left in the care of Mundy (Varada Sethu), a lower-ranking soldier in the army. But she slips her minder to reach the last GPS-tagged location of her father. She arrives, triggering the hologram attached to Vater’s remains that delivers his valediction to his daughter.

Soon after, Mundy tracks down her wayward ward and is able to explain the rest of the plot to the TARDIS crew. The Anglicans have been fighting a war for six months against an enemy that’s never seen or heard. Mundy and the Doctor spar on the nature of religion and how faith — in more than just a higher power — helps create willing material for the meat grinder of war. Mundy’s skeptical about the Doctor and Ruby but is quickly convinced when she scans the Doctor to see he’s not just going to explode on the mine. As a complex space-time event, the mine’s activation won’t just kill him but destroy half of the planet. It gets worse: The mine is going to time out and go off anyway after its stuttering activation.

Having detected the fracas, an ambulance arrives and jams its menacing tendrils into the Doctor. Ruby, again refusing to allow anyone else control the narrative, grabs Mundy’s rifle and tries to create a distraction to no effect. Mundy tells Ruby to shoot her using the rife’s lowest setting which would draw the ambulance without being fatal. But, as Ruby takes aim, Canterbury (Bhav Joshi) arrives just in time to misappraise the scene and shoot Ruby to defend his fellow soldier. Ruby, on the edge of death, generates more snow but is fading fast

The Doctor has worked out the problem, which is that there’s no enemy on the planet at all — it’s barren. Villengard's algorithm is sending soldiers out to die with the traps they themselves bought and probably placed. The only solution is to surrender but that’s not something Mundy is willing, or empowered, to do, so the Doctor needs to find proof to show to the senior cleric. He uses the AI of Vater, appealing to his duty as a father and whatever humanity is left inside to search through the military database to find evidence there is no enemy at all.

More ambulances arrive in an attempt to overwhelm the people in the crater, looming down on them all. As Mundy and Canterbury speak, the latter is suddenly minced for reasons that boil down to… we’re in the final few minutes of the episode. In the chaos, it looks as if all is lost, but as the Villengard AI projects a hologram, it’s quickly taken over by Vater, whose love for his daughter has hopefully triggered some sort of feedback loop, ending the war and disabling the mine. As the war is ended, Ruby is resurrected by the ambulance and the four survivors are able to enjoy the beautiful view in the skies over Kastarian 3.

There’s even time for the Doctor to mention a “grumpy old man” who told him once that “what will survive of us is love.” That’s a reference to notoriously acerbic poet Philip Larkin’s work An Arundel Tomb, referencing a long-decayed sculpture of two people lying in state. The Doctor mentions Splice may have a bright future ahead of her, and gets ready to head off to their next adventure.

Bad Wolf / BBC Studios

There’s no good place to address this later, so I’ll add that Varada Sethu has also been cast as a new companion for Doctor Who’s second season. Initial rumors suggested she was replacing Millie Gibson but the BBC said last month the trio would travel together. It’s not uncommon for an actor to play a minor role in one episode and then return as a member of the core cast. Peter Capaldi, Karen Gillan, Freema Agyeman and Colin Baker all played one-off roles before joining as a Doctor or as a companion. I have no idea if Mundy will return, or if Sethu will play a new character, but I’m not sure Mundy was a compelling enough character to warrant a revisit.

Bad Wolf / BBC Studios

“Boom” is a masterclass in perpetually-building tension in a way that Doctor Who has rarely attempted. I wouldn’t want to experience this level of stress every single week, but it’s a wonderful change from the status quo. The one thing that doesn’t quite work with the episode is the uneven pacing. For all the effort put into building the tension, the ending just seems to happen.

I feel like Moffat was straining against the running time, since the last few minutes are just dashed off without as much attention as I’d have liked. Interestingly, the other times Moffat has written stories that are this bleak, like “The Empty Child / The Doctor Dances” and “World Enough and Time / The Doctor Falls,” they were both two-parters. I’m not sure “Boom” needed 90 minutes, but an extra 10 or so might have helped things breathe.

Despite being rooted to one spot for most of the story, Gatwa’s Doctor still commands every frame he occupies. There’s enough chemistry between him and Millie Gibson that the pair’s interactions are entirely believable. The rest of the cast, however, don’t really get as much time to shine, given the limited focus and the stock roles they play in the narrative.

It’s entirely in keeping with Moffat’s style that he’d come back to a show, now equipped with a Disney-sized budget, only to make an episode set in one location. As a writer, he’s always enjoyed tying one hand behind his back and then allowing those restrictions to force him to be better. It was his Swiss watch plotting, smart storylines and snappy dialog that has always ensured his episodes are events. History has also silenced his critics: Last year, Doctor Who Magazine polled readers to rank every episode of the show made. Staggeringly, of the top 10, Moffat was credited with five, knocking Robert Holmes, the show’s greatest writer, off his perch.

And, as I said at the top, “Boom” stands proud as the first bona fide classic of the Disney+ era.

Susan Twist Corner

This week, Susan Twist played the avatar of the sinister Villengard ambulances that roamed the battlefield. Several times, the Doctor appealed to Vater’s AI homunculus on the fact that they are, or were, both fathers. If it isn’t clear, I think the show really wants the audience to know that the Doctor is a father with a child, whereabouts unknown. The hacky premise would be that it’s Susan who has taken the mantle of “The One Who Waits,” or that she’s somehow Ruby. Yeugh.

The following contains spoilers for “Boom.”

It should be a given any new series needs time to find its footing, even when it’s a revival of an already-running hit. The first three episodes of “new” Doctor Who have been fun, but not without their own idiosyncrasies that made them hard to love. Now it’s time for Steven Moffat, the series’ greatest 21st century writer, to show what this new season can do. There’s the usual degree of showboating and cleverness, but it’s hard to deny the man’s genius when he pens the first genuine classic of the Disney+ era. Bloody hell.

“Boom” thrusts the Doctor and Ruby into the smallest corner of a war, and lets it play out in microcosm. This is an angry story about how money, power and cruelty make people inhuman, and is the sort of episode Doctor Who excels at. This story makes no bones about the pointlessness of war and why money is the engine that keeps it going. Its framing may be modern — there’s one too many uses of the word “algorithm” here — but its central thesis is timeless.

Bad Wolf / BBC Studios

In a wasteland battlefield on Kastarian 3, two militarized Anglican clerics are walking back to base. Carson (Majid Mahdizadeh-Valoujerdy) is leading his friend, John Francis Vater (Joe Anderson) who has been blinded in the fighting, an injury that’ll take four weeks to recover from. In the distance, they spot an ambulance but seem afraid of it and look to go the long way around it. Carson loses his footing and slips into a small crater, activating a land mine that instantly obliterates him. The disturbance summons the ambulance, a tank-tracked device with a large screen with an apparently friendly avatar (Susan Twist) which injects its tendrils into Vater, identifying his injury. It decides that four weeks is an unacceptable amount of time for recovery and terminates him instead. His scream is heard by the Doctor, who sprints out of the TARDIS to help but winds up putting one foot on the exact same mine that killed Carson.

Ruby arrives to find the Doctor frozen in place, asking her to describe what he’s standing on: A Villengard mine. It’s an anti-personnel explosive made by a notorious weapons manufacturer that Moffat has referenced several times before. The Doctor asks Ruby to find something heavy for him to hold, so that he can shift his weight and put his foot down without triggering the mine. What she finds is Vater’s compacted remains bolted to an AI canister containing a simulacrum of Vater. The Doctor asks Ruby to throw it to him, but she instead opts to walk within the blast range and hand it over. It affirms the dynamic that as Gatwa’s Doctor has vacated the role of big-chested hero, Ruby has stepped in to fill the void.

The mine is, however, unsure if the Doctor is a viable target, and so remains frozen on the edge of activation. Villengard’s weapons are notoriously vicious and the company has created a warfare algorithm to limit the number of bodies in the battle zone at one time, while also dragging wars on profitably and indefinitely. It gives the company license to slay the wounded rather than spending the cash to cure them.

Bad Wolf / BBC Studios

Before he died, Vater was speaking to his daughter Splice (Caoilnn Springall), who was brought along to the war as there was no-one else to look after her. While her father was on patrol, she had been left in the care of Mundy (Varada Sethu), a lower-ranking soldier in the army. But she slips her minder to reach the last GPS-tagged location of her father. She arrives, triggering the hologram attached to Vater’s remains that delivers his valediction to his daughter.

Soon after, Mundy tracks down her wayward ward and is able to explain the rest of the plot to the TARDIS crew. The Anglicans have been fighting a war for six months against an enemy that’s never seen or heard. Mundy and the Doctor spar on the nature of religion and how faith — in more than just a higher power — helps create willing material for the meat grinder of war. Mundy’s skeptical about the Doctor and Ruby but is quickly convinced when she scans the Doctor to see he’s not just going to explode on the mine. As a complex space-time event, the mine’s activation won’t just kill him but destroy half of the planet. It gets worse: The mine is going to time out and go off anyway after its stuttering activation.

Having detected the fracas, an ambulance arrives and jams its menacing tendrils into the Doctor. Ruby, again refusing to allow anyone else control the narrative, grabs Mundy’s rifle and tries to create a distraction to no effect. Mundy tells Ruby to shoot her using the rife’s lowest setting which would draw the ambulance without being fatal. But, as Ruby takes aim, Canterbury (Bhav Joshi) arrives just in time to misappraise the scene and shoot Ruby to defend his fellow soldier. Ruby, on the edge of death, generates more snow but is fading fast

The Doctor has worked out the problem, which is that there’s no enemy on the planet at all — it’s barren. Villengard's algorithm is sending soldiers out to die with the traps they themselves bought and probably placed. The only solution is to surrender but that’s not something Mundy is willing, or empowered, to do, so the Doctor needs to find proof to show to the senior cleric. He uses the AI of Vater, appealing to his duty as a father and whatever humanity is left inside to search through the military database to find evidence there is no enemy at all.

More ambulances arrive in an attempt to overwhelm the people in the crater, looming down on them all. As Mundy and Canterbury speak, the latter is suddenly minced for reasons that boil down to… we’re in the final few minutes of the episode. In the chaos, it looks as if all is lost, but as the Villengard AI projects a hologram, it’s quickly taken over by Vater, whose love for his daughter has hopefully triggered some sort of feedback loop, ending the war and disabling the mine. As the war is ended, Ruby is resurrected by the ambulance and the four survivors are able to enjoy the beautiful view in the skies over Kastarian 3.

There’s even time for the Doctor to mention a “grumpy old man” who told him once that “what will survive of us is love.” That’s a reference to notoriously acerbic poet Philip Larkin’s work An Arundel Tomb, referencing a long-decayed sculpture of two people lying in state. The Doctor mentions Splice may have a bright future ahead of her, and gets ready to head off to their next adventure.

Bad Wolf / BBC Studios

There’s no good place to address this later, so I’ll add that Varada Sethu has also been cast as a new companion for Doctor Who’s second season. Initial rumors suggested she was replacing Millie Gibson but the BBC said last month the trio would travel together. It’s not uncommon for an actor to play a minor role in one episode and then return as a member of the core cast. Peter Capaldi, Karen Gillan, Freema Agyeman and Colin Baker all played one-off roles before joining as a Doctor or as a companion. I have no idea if Mundy will return, or if Sethu will play a new character, but I’m not sure Mundy was a compelling enough character to warrant a revisit.

Bad Wolf / BBC Studios

“Boom” is a masterclass in perpetually-building tension in a way that Doctor Who has rarely attempted. I wouldn’t want to experience this level of stress every single week, but it’s a wonderful change from the status quo. The one thing that doesn’t quite work with the episode is the uneven pacing. For all the effort put into building the tension, the ending just seems to happen.

I feel like Moffat was straining against the running time, since the last few minutes are just dashed off without as much attention as I’d have liked. Interestingly, the other times Moffat has written stories that are this bleak, like “The Empty Child / The Doctor Dances” and “World Enough and Time / The Doctor Falls,” they were both two-parters. I’m not sure “Boom” needed 90 minutes, but an extra 10 or so might have helped things breathe.

Despite being rooted to one spot for most of the story, Gatwa’s Doctor still commands every frame he occupies. There’s enough chemistry between him and Millie Gibson that the pair’s interactions are entirely believable. The rest of the cast, however, don’t really get as much time to shine, given the limited focus and the stock roles they play in the narrative.

It’s entirely in keeping with Moffat’s style that he’d come back to a show, now equipped with a Disney-sized budget, only to make an episode set in one location. As a writer, he’s always enjoyed tying one hand behind his back and then allowing those restrictions to force him to be better. It was his Swiss watch plotting, smart storylines and snappy dialog that has always ensured his episodes are events. History has also silenced his critics: Last year, Doctor Who Magazine polled readers to rank every episode of the show made. Staggeringly, of the top 10, Moffat was credited with five, knocking Robert Holmes, the show’s greatest writer, off his perch.

And, as I said at the top, “Boom” stands proud as the first bona fide classic of the Disney+ era.

Susan Twist Corner

This week, Susan Twist played the avatar of the sinister Villengard ambulances that roamed the battlefield. Several times, the Doctor appealed to Vater’s AI homunculus on the fact that they are, or were, both fathers. If it isn’t clear, I think the show really wants the audience to know that the Doctor is a father with a child, whereabouts unknown. The hacky premise would be that it’s Susan who has taken the mantle of “The One Who Waits,” or that she’s somehow Ruby. Yeugh.

The following includes spoilers for “The Devil’s Chord.”

For a show about time (and space) travel interwoven with British pop culture since its start in 1963, a trip to visit the Beatles is an obvious premise. So obvious that this is the second time we’ve had a “what if” episode hinging on the Fab Four’s cultural impact. After all, both the Beatles and Doctor Who became global cultural exports as Britain flexed its post-imperial soft power. But while there’s plenty of material to mine in that premise, this isn’t an episode that’s interested in doing that, relegating the Beatles to little more than window dressing.

This has always been a trick in Doctor Who’s toolbox, especially when Russell T. Davies is in charge. He loves dangling an idea, or eye-catching visual, to lure in an audience before moving the focus to something else. I’m reminded of the kung-fu monks from “Tooth and Claw” which looked great in the trailers but had no real impact on the story. It’s “Tooth and Claw” that “The Devil’s Chord” feels similar to — an early season one episode that doesn’t quite work in and of itself, but does spend a lot of its time gesturing to this year’s recurring themes. (FilmStories reported from a recent Q&A, where Davies said that this episode lacked a central plot and was, instead, "Just some subplots.")

James Pardon/Bad Wolf/BBC Studios

But to understand that, and my stance, we’re going to have to take a little look at The Context before we get to examining the meat. You see, during its history, Doctor Who has bent itself to fit the vision of its primary creative figure and Davies is a voracious watcher of TV. He’s obsessed with the form and format of TV as much as its content, and this is reflected in his work. His episodes often develop with news reports, CCTV clips and deeper forms of exposition revealed through screens. “Bad Wolf” is a great example, where the show lands at a TV studio that’s making sci-fi versions of the then-current pantheon of British reality TV.

Davies also trusts his audience to instinctively know the unspoken rules of TV even if they can’t name them. Which is why I think it’s worth looking at “The Devil’s Chord” as an episode that is, for want of a better phrase, collapsing in on itself. When Mrs. Flood talks to the camera at the end of “Church on Ruby Road,” it felt Deliberately Wrong, especially after she was seemingly unaware of the TARDIS earlier in the episode. Here, the numerous fourth wall breaks and lapses in storytelling are similarly an intentional sign of How Wrong Things Are. What starts out as a by-the-numbers celebrity historical quickly collapses into a fever dream like Sam Lowry’s descent into madness at the end of Brazil.

James Pardon/Bad Wolf/BBC Studios

We open in a concert hall in 1925 as a teacher outlines the basics of music theory for a young child. He shows off that he has “discovered” The Devil’s Chord and, by playing it, unleashes Maestro (Jinkx Monsoon), the embodiment of music. Maestro is a godlike elemental force and a child of the Toymaker – featured villain of the 60th Anniversary special episode “The Giggle.” After praising the musician for their genius, Maestro then sucks the music out of their heart and eats it like cotton candy before staring into the camera and playing the show's theme tune on the piano.

When the titles end (notice the theme is playing out of the jukebox) it’s clear Ruby has been on the TARDIS for some time. She asks the Doctor if it would be possible to visit the recording of the Beatles’ first album at the EMI’s studios on Abbey Road. Before they open the doors, she asks if it might be worth them changing into less conspicuously modern clothes and they spring off to sample the delights of the TARDIS wardrobe, complete with a wig for the Doctor.

James Pardon/Bad Wolf/BBC Studios

The pair sneak into George Martin’s producer’s booth but quickly spot something is wrong with the scene in front of them. Rather than playing any of Please Please Me’s big and recognizable hits, they’re turning out mop-top music about animals. The Doctor doesn’t know it yet but Maestro has spent the last few decades swallowing all of the music out of people’s hearts. It’s a genius way to get around the fact that, even with all the cash thrown at Get Back and Disney’s vast bank balance, Doctor Who still can’t readily afford to license Beatles songs.

Next door, (famous British singer / TV presenter / notorious diva) Cilla Black is similarly stricken with a case of the muzaks while a concert orchestra is just about mustering a version of Three Blind Mice. The Doctor and Ruby head to the canteen to corner John and Paul to try and find out what went wrong with history. They then head to the roof with a piano, where Ruby plays a tune she wrote to help a friend get over a breakup. But once the Doctor hears Maestro’s giggle, he sprints away, hiding in a nearby basement.

James Pardon/Bad Wolf/BBC Studios

The Doctor explains that any villain who laughs is tied to the Toymaker and is a sign of the fractured universe. Fighting the Toymaker in “The Giggle” was sufficiently draining and difficult, especially given how powerful these elemental forces are, that he doesn’t want to do it again. Maestro is hunting for them, but the Doctor uses his sonic screwdriver to kill all of the sound in the area. (The Doctor knows just enough about how the form and format of TV works to turn the tables on their opponent.) Maestro works out how to undo the blocking – with some magnificent sound editing — but is then distracted from their pursuit of the Doctor by an older woman Ruby had inspired to play the piano.

The eagle-eyed among you will notice that this is the second time in two episodes that Ruby has inspired another person to be bold to their detriment. Her words were enough to encourage Eric to try and take on the bogeyman single-handed in “Space Babies,” nearly imperiling him. The older woman isn’t so lucky and gets consumed by Maestro

Because of how long Doctor Who has run, it's often its own source material. Ruby, once they’ve escaped, assumes that everything is okay because she recalls listening to music as a child and so therefore Maestro can’t have won. So, in a scene pulled from “Pyramids of Mars,” the Doctor takes her to 2024 in the TARDIS to show the wreckage of the alternate future. Because while she’s protected from the ravages of continuity by the fact she’s traveling through time, the rest of the universe isn’t so lucky.

Natalie Seery/Bad Wolf/BBC Studios

But this flash-forward, in an echo of the meeting with the Toymaker, flips from a visage of a bombed-out London to a stagey set. Maestro arrives behind a white piano to outline their plan to rid the universe of music, leaving just the aeolian tones of the wind brushing against objects. But the Doctor says that a universe without music, unable to express joy or anger through art, turns sour and destroys itself. It's a feeling I can relate to — like when love becomes so painful in its absence that you'd rather disappear into the void than keep going on. Davies is also a nihilist so many of his episodes have revolved around the dark face of humanity that reveals itself when denied Earthly pleasures.

Escaping back to the ‘60s, the Doctor and Ruby meet Maestro and find the walls of reality are collapsing. Murray Gold’s swirling soundtrack isn’t just the background music, it’s bled into the fabric of the show itself. The Doctor and Ruby start trying to find a chord that will bind Maestro with the Mrs. Mills piano, a (real) fixture of Abbey Road’s studio. As they play, the notes are rendered floating over the piano, but the pair fail to identify the final note before Maestro turns up.

Maestro begins attacking, throwing around musical scores as weapons and hurling the piano into the hall. It’s here that the episode’s coherence starts to sag, the scenes get longer and odder, a wonky version of a standard monster-of-the-week TV show conclusion. The tension builds, and all looks lost, until John and Paul stumble upon the piano in the hallway. They’re able to see the notes hanging in the air over the piano and with their, uh, innate musical nous, and complete the chord to bind the villain. But before they’re whisked away, Maestro has time to reveal they aren’t the only one of the Toymaker’s minions coming, and “the one who waits” is lurking in the background.

Out of nowhere, the episode ends with a big musical number that features the cast dancing through the Abbey Road sets, delighted at the return of music. Even the steps of the road crossing light up as the Doctor and Ruby cut a rug across them. I can’t work out if it’s simply an indulgent sequence, or another big sign that the show’s structure is breaking down. That the Doctor and Ruby are blind to the apparent Wrongness of it all hints at the latter, especially given the deeper context of the song’s title — see below.

James Pardon/Bad Wolf/BBC Studios

There are other signs that Doctor Who is collapsing into its own TV series, including the casting decisions. The older woman who plays the piano is June Hudson, the show’s costume designer from 1978 to 1980 — who famously redesigned the fourth Doctor’s costume. The musician at the piano during the dance number is Murray Gold, while the figures the Doctor and Ruby dance with at the end are Strictly Come Dancing stars Shirley Ballas and Johannes Radebe. Maybe the big nemesis haunting the series will be some form that could threaten its existence as a TV show itself.

It’s worth saying that Doctor Who has an uneasy relationship with “big” villain performances which can turn hard into hamminess. But Jinkx Monsoon manages to pitch Maestro as just big and flamboyant enough to steal every scene they’re in, but never too silly. It’s also the right side of charming and magnetic, and while they don’t have anywhere near enough time to properly face off against Ncuti Gatwa’s Doctor, it’s still a great match-up.

The problem of Susan Twist

As much as I don’t want to get into the weeds here, it’s possible this stuff is going to come up later that I need to flag it. Doctor Who has been running for more than 60 years with a revolving door of creative figures who paid little-to-no attention to consistency. A convenient way to justify these is by suggesting time travel, by its very nature, would always mess up your personal history. But, in latter days, the show has often preferred to overlook the thornier parts of its backstory, like the existence of the Doctor’s granddaughter, Susan.

When the show started, the Doctor was joined on his adventures by Susan and a pair of teachers who followed her home one night. Long before any mention of Time Lords or Gallifrey, she was just the kid figure who often wound up needing rescuing. Then, in “The Dalek Invasion of Earth,” the Doctor exiles her to 22nd century Earth because she wants to kiss a boy. His goodbye speech has been long since de-contextualized and made to sound noble. But it is essentially him going “yeah, you’re interested in boys now, so you go make babies (eww babies) and stay here while I go off running around the universe.” Yes, it is a bit yikes.

This ties in with a small body of writing about this trope in children’s literature about the way female characters are treated when reaching adulthood. In combination with a sexual awakening, this is often used as justification to dump them out of the narrative. It’s even called “The Problem of Susan,” albeit named after Neil Gaiman’s rebuttal of what happens to Susan at the end of The Chronicles of Narnia. If you’d like to learn more, you can read Elizabeth Sandifer’s essay on "The Dalek Invasion of Earth" which talks about this in some detail.

Why is this relevant? Because when Davies’ returned to Doctor Who, he cast the same actress in two different episodes. Susan Twist played Mrs. Merridew in "Wild Blue Yonder" and was seen again in "The Church on Ruby Road," which sent keen-eyed fans into a frenzy. She pops up here as a tea lady and, on the roof of Abbey Road; the Doctor even talks about the fact another of his incarnations is living in Shoreditch in 1963 with his granddaughter. That the episode ends with a musical number called “There’s always a Twist at the end” with Ncuti Gatwa winking to camera is as big a neon sign as you could hope for.

Doctor Who fans — never ones to not scour the text, metatext and paratext of each episode — took Twist’s repeated casting as a signpost. They assumed, not unjustifiably, that this series would feature a twist about Susan, and that Davies was subtly signaling this to diehard fans. Given Twist’s appearance here, and that we get a song saying the quiet part out loud, seems to vindicate those theories. Unless, of course, it’s all a triple bluff, but I’m not sure how anyone could game that successfully. The only question that remains, of course, is what Davies' plan is, and how exactly it’ll play out in the next six episodes.

The following includes spoilers for “Space Babies.”

You can’t help but admire Russell T. Davies’ audacity. He plucks the rights to make Doctor Who from the BBC. He gets Disney+ to write an enormous check to bring the show to life in a way never before attempted. Then, with so much money at stake and a months-long promotional campaign, he opens season one and the door to new fans with this.

We kick off at the end of “The Church on Ruby Road,” with the Doctor's latest companion, Ruby Sunday (Millie Gibson), entering the TARDIS for the first time. The Doctor introduces himself and offers a quick run-through of the premise for the folks at home. They’re an alien, adopted by the Time Lords of Gallifrey who were then wiped out. That leaves the Doctor (once again) as the last of their kind; a quasi-immortal time traveler who can go anywhere in the universe.

To set the scene, the pair hop back to prehistoric Wyoming to gaze at a detailed vista of some CGI dinosaurs. This is the show boasting about what it can do even for a throwaway scene with its new bigger budget. And it helps banish the memories of some of the less successful attempts to do a dinosaur episode from way back when.

Ruby is already savvy to the conventions of the time-travel genre and asks about the risks to causality if she steps on a butterfly. The Doctor dismisses this idea out of hand before Ruby does and causes unutterable damage to the timeline. The butterfly is quickly revived and the Doctor nips back into the TARDIS to activate the Butterfly Compensator. Which is as close as this show gets to saying that it has never been a hard sci-fi show and it never will be.

James Pardon/Bad Wolf/BBC Studios

For their next trip, they travel into the far future, landing on a space station that grows babies for colony projects. The bowels of the vessel are being stalked by an eyeless, teeth-heavy monster while the upper deck is crewed by talking babies. Mere seconds after proving the show can do decent-looking dinosaurs, it overreaches and adds an appallingly creepy CGI mouth to a baby. I’ve seen this done in movies, and commercials, and it never works, and please God stop trying.

The Doctor and Ruby encounter the crew, a bunch of babies with the minds of preschoolers and the mouths of adults, or something. They’ve been left to run the station, with pulleys and cables letting them control specific onboard functions, and smart strollers to carry them around. The only other presence on the ship is an AI, NAN-E, which acts as a comforting voice for the kids.

Ruby’s genre-savviness kicks in again here, and she notices there’s almost a storybook quality to the situation. A bunch of kids being menaced by an unwelcome, bogeyman-esque presence below, and the need for a hero to step in and rescue them. The pair give the babies some much-needed cuddles and are then invited to another part of the station by NAN-E.

On the way, the pair discuss origin stories and how Ruby, following on from the events of “The Church on Ruby Road,” wants to use the TARDIS to find out who her parents are. While they talk, snow — the same snow that fell when Ruby was left on the steps of the eponymous church — starts to fall inside the corridor. Ruby’s memories and history are somehow seeping through into the present, or she’s able to do something to alter the universe.

James Pardon/Bad Wolf/BBC Studios

But they can’t focus on that too much, since they’re interrupted by NAN-E, who turns out not to be an AI, but a person. Jocelyn Sancerre (Golda Rosheuvel) is the last adult crew member, who stayed on the station to care for the children when everyone else was ordered to leave. The government of the planet below pulled funding for the stations and ordered the adults to leave, abandoning the children in place. But, because the planet is also anti-abortion, they wouldn’t terminate the as-yet unborn babies, preferring them to slowly die from external factors. Geez, do you think they might be talking about us?

Much as this will be framed as a post-Roe story by US audiences, it’s worth saying the UK’s Conservative Party has taken a similar approach. In 2010, the Labour government had worked to greatly reduce child poverty and homelessness with a number of targeted programs. These were quickly unwound by the incoming Conservatives, not only undoing all of those gains but making the issue a lot worse. So much so that the UN – the UN! – of all people upbraided the nation.

The streak of saying the quiet part out loud continues when, while hatching a plan to save the babies, they opt to take them to another planet in the system. It’s a world that takes in refugees, but you have to turn up on the planet’s doorstep to get any help, because it won’t lift a finger to help rescue people in need from further afield. Again, this is a not-so oblique reference to the UK’s monstrous policy of attempting to block refugees from reaching the country via sea. It is a point of enormous pride for the Prime Minister that he has boasted about his work to prevent boat crossings.

This is made all the more painful as, for a brief moment, the country was reconsidering its approach following the death of Alan Kurdi, a two-year-old boy who drowned while attempting passage to Europe from Syria. The image of his body became a harrowing and defining image of the day, but the press quickly worked to stifle any pro-migrant sentiment, enabling the country to engage in an enormous boondoggle by spending millions of pounds building a detention center in Rwanda to forcibly-relocate people seeking asylum in the UK as a “deterrent.”

James Pardon/Bad Wolf/BBC Studios

The grown ups can’t mull their problems for long as Eric, one of the babies (sorry, space babies) heads down to the lower level to tackle this bogeyman. There’s a telling moment where Ruby sprints out to rescue the child far ahead of the Doctor, continuing a thread from the Christmas special: Ruby Sunday is willing to throw herself head-first into the action rather than waiting for help, steel pipe in hand. Doctor Who has always thrived when the companions — a name we’ve been saddled with since 1963 — are active figures in the narrative. Every one of the show’s sidekicks, bar one, has their ardent fans, but commanding figures like Sarah Jane and Ace are always the most beloved.

Once the baby is rescued by the other babies wielding a gas pipe as a flamethrower, they’re sent back upstairs while the Doctor and Ruby take on the bogeyman. Ruby’s assumptions are proved further right when it turns out the alien is actually a bogey-man, as in made of snot. The station’s malfunctioning systems sought to build an appropriate environment for the kids, and used children’s literature as its template.

Jocelyn works out that she can force the bogeyman toward an airlock while keeping the Doctor and Ruby safe. She then exposes the monster to the void of space, but the Doctor can’t be so cruel to another lonely, misunderstood figure. He makes his way into the airlock room and closes the door to seal them both in to save the bogeyman’s life.

The episode ends with the Doctor realizing that the station can eject its six full years worth of soiled diapers to propel it towards the refugee planet. It’s entirely fair game to resolve a crisis precipitated by rogue bodily fluids with a poop joke.

Crisis averted, he and Ruby walk back to the TARDIS where he gives her a key and welcomes her to the team, before adding that, as much as she may want to, he can’t take her back to the moment she was abandoned. He covertly begins scanning Ruby to work out what exactly is her deal, and why she’s capable of bending the universe. (And yes, there are shades of the Impossible Girl arc in how this is playing out.)

The TARDIS lands back at Ruby’s home, smashing up the kitchen and the Christmas dinner therein.

James Pardon/Bad Wolf/BBC Studios

I imagine it won’t be long after the episode airs that the usual corners of the internet will scream culture war. Davies was always a political writer and feels a duty to be unapologetic about his viewpoint on current-day matters. His original tenure on the show was rooted at the tail-end of the Blair and Brown years, fueled by righteous fury around the invasion of Iraq. This is, again, all the more surprising given it’s being broadcast on Disney+, the model of conservative restraint.

During his first tenure, Davies would begin the production of every episode with a tone meeting which outlined how each episode would maintain a consistent feeling in the writing, acting and direction. By comparison, “Space Babies” lurches wildly: Poop and fart jokes in one scene, unsettling horror in the next, weighty examinations of human morality between. The scenes of Jocelyn’s adult dialog being run through the “nanny filter” is a good source of comedy, it’s just odd that they’re juxtaposed with high drama.

But that’s more or less what makes Doctor Who one of the best shows on TV — its ability to do anything it damn well pleases. If the weirdness of what you’ve just seen appeals then you’ve just become a Doctor Who fan. If it didn’t, then you might find the next episode will serve up what you were looking for.