Following a delightful detour into the world of Jodie Whittaker’s Doctor, it’s time to delve into another significant figure in the Doctor Who universe. As a dedicated Whovian currently immersed in a comprehensive series re-watch, the spotlight turns to Martha Jones, portrayed by the talented Freema Agyeman. Martha holds a special place in Doctor Who history as the first primary Black companion. While undeniably an excellent character, Martha’s journey is often overshadowed, a situation stemming from the lingering presence of her predecessor, Rose Tyler, a dynamic heavily influenced by writer Russell T. Davies’ clear favoritism.
Before we explore this further, be warned: spoilers for Doctor Who series 3 and 4 are ahead!
Martha Jones: Recognizing Her Feminist Strengths
In numerous ways, Martha Jones is an exceptionally well-developed character. Long before her life intersects with the Doctor’s, Martha exhibits remarkable competence. Professionally, she is a dedicated medical resident. Personally, she navigates the complexities of her parents’ difficult divorce, often acting as a mediator in their ongoing disputes. This established competence sets Martha apart from many companions. She doesn’t enter the TARDIS seeking to discover untapped potential. Instead, she’s seeking respite from responsibility, a chance to pursue her own desires for once. Her choice to join the Doctor is rooted in her personal wants, a refreshing contrast to companions whose journeys are dictated by fate or the Doctor’s needs. This agency is evident from her very first episode, where she’s already investigating the strange lunar hospital before the Doctor even materializes. Her sharp intellect and composure under pressure are precisely what pique the Doctor’s interest, forming the foundation of a relationship built upon Martha’s inherent strengths and deliberate choices – a decidedly feminist starting point for a companion.
Perhaps more than any other New Who companion, Martha is self-sufficient and doesn’t need the Doctor in a traditional sense. This isn’t to diminish their bond or suggest she outshines him. Their relationship is profoundly important, particularly from Martha’s perspective. However, her survival and capabilities aren’t dependent on his presence. The series repeatedly underscores this point. Martha frequently finds herself relying solely on her resourcefulness: in “Human Nature/The Family of Blood,” she is tasked with protecting a human Doctor and restoring his Time Lord identity; in “Blink,” she and the Doctor are temporally stranded in 1969, separated from the TARDIS; in “The Last of the Time Lords,” she endures a year in a dystopian Earth, spreading hope and the Doctor’s message; in “The Doctor’s Daughter,” separated from both the Doctor and Donna, she navigates a toxic planet and brokers peace between warring species; and in “Stolen Earth/Journey’s End,” she independently traverses Dalek-infested Germany on a critical mission. No other companion has shouldered such burdens single-handedly and achieved such consistent success. Martha’s strength is demonstrated through action, not just stated in dialogue.
Reinforcing her self-directed narrative, Martha remains the only NuWho companion to consciously choose to leave the TARDIS. Recognizing the personal cost and the Doctor’s lack of appreciation, she prioritizes her well-being and departs in a powerful, self-respecting farewell – arguably the classiest companion break-up in the show’s history.
Time and again, Martha acts with agency, driven by her own desires and competencies. She consistently contributes to saving the day, often independently, showcasing her as arguably the most self-reliant and independent companion in New Who – and undeniably a compelling feminist character.
The Shadow of Rose Tyler: Undermining Martha’s Journey
However, Martha’s narrative isn’t without its complexities. Significant issues arise not from the character herself, but from her positioning relative to other characters, primarily the Doctor and, most notably, Rose Tyler.
Let’s first consider the Doctor. Martha develops a crush on the Tenth Doctor. This romantic subplot feels somewhat forced and awkwardly handled. Perhaps influenced by the popularity of the Rose/Ten romance, writer Russell T. Davies (RTD) seemingly felt compelled to replicate unrequited longing. The problem, beyond suggesting that a companion must have romantic feelings for the Doctor (even one portrayed by David Tennant), is how this dynamic often leads to the Doctor behaving cruelly towards Martha. Consumed by his lingering emotions for Rose, he frequently belittles and dismisses Martha, despite her exceptional capabilities. His indifference is stark even when Martha chooses to leave, as he swiftly moves on, engaging in flirtatious behavior with another blonde, potential companion shortly after her departure, showcasing a pattern of superficial attachment.
This brings us to Rose Tyler. Although not a primary companion during Martha’s tenure, Rose’s presence looms large. Rose is undeniably Russell T. Davies’ favored companion. This favoritism manifests in extreme narrative choices: time and space are fractured to accommodate Rose’s desires, and other characters are often sidelined in the process. Even in Martha’s season, Rose’s shadow is ever-present. The Doctor is fixated on Rose, frequently lapsing into melancholic stares, revisiting locations he shared with Rose, initially hesitating to fully accept Martha as a companion due to his grief, and casually, repeatedly suggesting Rose would have solved problems more efficiently than Martha – a dubious claim at best. He consistently treats Martha as a second-rate substitute, solely because she isn’t Rose.
This constant comparison is deeply unfair. As established, Martha is an outstanding companion in her own right. Perpetually contrasting her unfavorably with Rose, subtly implying that the audience should also view her as a lesser substitute, is demeaning and diminishes a well-developed character. Instead of celebrating Martha’s strength and feminist agency, RTD, through the Doctor, perpetuates a narrative of longing for a past character, undermining the present one.
The Weird: Martha and Mickey?
Finally, there’s a plot development so unexpected and seemingly random that it falls into its own category: the revelation in “The End of Time Part 2” that Martha and Mickey Smith are now married. This revelation prompts a bewildered, “Huh?” Mickey and Martha have shared virtually no screen time prior to this. How did this relationship evolve? Did Martha initiate it with a sentiment like, “Your girlfriend left you for the Doctor, and the Doctor essentially left me for your girlfriend’s memory. We share mutual abandonment; we should get married?” While Torchwood might offer some explanatory context, for viewers solely focused on Doctor Who, this development is perplexing and feels unearned. If Torchwood indeed develops this relationship convincingly, then clarification is welcome. Otherwise, this remains firmly in the “weird” category.
Conclusion: Martha Jones Deserves More Recognition
And there we have it: a feminist spotlight on Martha Jones. She stands as an exceptionally feminist character within Doctor Who, making it particularly disappointing that the Doctor (and by extension, Russell T. Davies) seemed too preoccupied with the aftermath of Rose’s departure to fully appreciate her brilliance. Martha Jones’ strength, independence, and agency make her a standout companion who, despite being constantly compared to her predecessor, carved her own significant place in the Doctor Who universe. Perhaps it’s time for a broader re-evaluation of Martha’s contribution, recognizing her not as a rebound companion, but as a truly remarkable character in her own right.
