I’m currently engrossed in the latest season of “Doctor Who,” starring Ncuti Gatwa as the Fifteenth Doctor. To be precise, I’m about four episodes deep, though if you include the “Doctor Who Special 4” where he first encountered Ruby Sunday (Millie Gibson), his companion, we’re at five. And if we even consider the “Doctor Who Special 3,” showcasing his bi-regeneration from the Tenth-turned-Fourteenth Doctor (David Tennant), it’s more like five and a half episodes into this new era.
Regardless of the exact count, I’m thoroughly invested in this season of “Doctor Who.” As is customary with each regeneration, I find myself navigating the familiar, yet always slightly disorienting, process of accepting a new Doctor.
It’s not about Gatwa himself; he is, without a doubt, a captivating Doctor. My internal conflict stems from the bittersweet transition inherent in being a “Whovian.” Every few years, we, as fans, must undergo a form of emotional regeneration, letting go of the beloved previous Doctor – in this case, Jodie Whittaker (preceded by Tennant’s special-episode Doctor) – and opening our hearts to the new incarnation.
This cycle is a unique aspect of “Doctor Who.” The show offers its audience so much, but with a lead character who regenerates regularly, it also demands a lot – arguably more than any other series in television history.
Every few seasons, the Doctor we’ve grown to know and love is replaced by someone who, while fundamentally the same, is also profoundly different.
They remain the Doctor, equipped with two hearts, the TARDIS, sonic screwdriver, Gallifreyan trauma, a pacifist inclination, and psychic paper credentials. Yet, they are also distinct – in appearance, style, catchphrases, and temperament.
The Ever-Evolving Doctor: A Legacy of Regeneration
“Doctor Who” premiered in 1963, conceived as a family program designed to both entertain and educate. It used time travel to explore scientific marvels, historical turning points, and the inherent dangers of both. William Hartnell was the original Doctor, the First. When health issues arose, the ingenious concept of “renewal,” later termed “regeneration,” was introduced. This allowed for a seamless transition to Patrick Troughton, who became the Second Doctor, while maintaining the continuity of the character.
My own journey with “Doctor Who,” like many contemporary fans, began with its 2005 revival, spearheaded by Russell T Davies. Christopher Eccleston was Davies’s initial Doctor in this new era, the Ninth Doctor overall. However, he only stayed for a single season. David Tennant succeeded him, and to this day, he remains my Doctor. Despite his quirky fondness for fish fingers and custard, it took some time to fully embrace Matt Smith’s Eleventh Doctor. Yet, he too eventually became undeniably the Doctor, bow tie, fez, and all. The 50th-anniversary special brilliantly united Tennant and Smith, while also introducing John Hurt as the War Doctor, offering a fleeting glimpse of the Doctor’s ever-changing lineage. This constant evolution perhaps explains why it took almost half a season before I truly accepted Peter Capaldi’s Twelfth Doctor. Companion Clara (Jenna-Louise Coleman) eloquently captured the collective fan sentiment when, witnessing Smith transform into Capaldi, she exclaimed, “I don’t think I know who the Doctor is anymore.”
But of course, she did, and so did we. And just as Capaldi seemed to solidify his place as the eternal Doctor, Jodie Whittaker arrived as the Thirteenth Doctor, once again shifting our perceptions.
And let’s not even delve into the constantly changing roster of captivating companions – I still fondly remember Martha (Freema Agyeman), for whom I even watched “Law and Order: U.K.” And the return of Donna (Catherine Tate) in last year’s specials was a delightful surprise. Or the fluctuating identities of the mischievous Time Lord adversary, the Master (or Mistress – Michelle Gomez’s iteration was particularly memorable).
For someone who invests deeply in characters, this constant emotional turnover is significant. Especially considering that television, as a medium, is traditionally built upon the foundation of familiarity and consistency.
Long before “Game of Thrones” and other modern prestige dramas normalized killing off main characters for shock value and realism, “Doctor Who” was already bending, if not breaking, the fundamental rule of television: cultivate characters that audiences want to welcome into their homes for extended periods. While these characters could evolve – age, face challenges, mature (or regress) – the changes were traditionally subtle enough to maintain audience recognition.
Doctor Who: Bridging Television and Theatre Through Regeneration
Imagine if James Gandolfini had been replaced as Tony Soprano every few seasons. The concept seems almost absurd.
While many contemporary shows strive to blur the lines between television and film – with showrunners often proclaiming, “It’s like a 10-hour movie,” a phrase that perhaps needs retirement – “Doctor Who” uniquely straddles the worlds of television and theatre.
The Doctor is a character akin to Hamlet, Willy Loman, Dolly Levi, or the Phantom of the Opera. They are not defined by a single actor’s portrayal but are meant to be inhabited and reinterpreted by a diverse array of performers. Unsurprisingly, given the show’s British origins, many of these actors boast impressive stage credentials.
This inherent change is part of the show’s allure and magic. Anticipation and speculation build amongst fans and media as each Doctor approaches their final season – who will be next?
The consecutive casting of Whittaker and Gatwa (finally) disrupted the long-standing pattern of white, male, and presumably heterosexual Doctors. This shift predictably triggered tiresome cries of “wokeness” from certain corners, criticisms that are particularly unfounded given the show’s modern history, which has consistently featured diverse companions representing various ethnicities and LGBTQ+ identities.
Nevertheless, Ncuti Gatwa’s arrival as the first Black and openly queer Doctor is rightly celebrated as the dawn of a “new era” for the series. With Russell T Davies returning as showrunner after passing the baton to Steven Moffat in 2009, “Doctor Who” is now a collaborative venture between Disney, the BBC, and Bad Wolf. It has found a new home on Disney+ and aspires to captivate a broader, more diverse audience.
This ambition is evident in Gatwa’s Doctor taking the time to patiently explain Time Lord fundamentals to Ruby, a young woman searching for her birth mother. He makes explicit references to the First Doctor and his granddaughter/companion Susan (Carole Ann Ford), who, according to Reddit rumors, may reappear this season.
The Fifteenth Doctor: A Self-Aware Time Lord for a New Generation
I’m also hopeful that Davies will reintroduce Jenny, the Doctor’s “daughter.” A clone created using the Doctor’s DNA during Tennant’s tenure, Jenny was portrayed by Georgia Moffett. Intriguingly, Moffett, the daughter of Peter Davison (the Fifth Doctor), later married Tennant in a real-life twist that rivals any cinematic franchise narrative. In “The Doctor’s Daughter,” Jenny seemingly perished only to revive after the Doctor, in mourning, had departed. Her last appearance showed her embarking on interstellar adventures.
Casting a young companion alongside the Fifteenth Doctor, like Ruby, was a strategic move, and not solely from a Disney perspective. At 19, Ruby not only echoes Rose Tyler (Billie Piper), the first companion of the modern era, but also allows the Doctor to adopt a more expository approach – contrasting with Capaldi’s Doctor, who initially referred to humans as “pudding brains.”
This iteration of the Doctor also seems to be the most self-aware yet, readily sharing details about his history and origins (though, naturally, not his true name) that previous Doctors guarded more closely. Gatwa’s infectious exuberance makes this accessible and serves as a bridge connecting new viewers with long-time fans. References to the First Doctor offer reassurance to established fans, while the introduction of formidable new adversaries ensures a shared, original experience for everyone.
Ultimately, it’s about change, and change, even when anticipated and exciting, can be challenging. The Doctor embodies a magical paradox – simultaneously unique and universal. The Doctor is undeniably themself, yet also representative of all of us, everywhere.
We are all on our own journeys through space and time, and we dare to love deeply, knowing that all love, in some form, will eventually lead to loss. Yet, as “Doctor Who” periodically reminds us, regeneration is always possible.
It will always look different, dress differently, speak differently than before, but at its core, it remains love, just the same.
