For years, the legend of Doctor Who loomed large. References and inside jokes floated around, hinting at a vast universe. Lines like “Real Daleks don’t climb stairs, they flatten the building” were intriguing, yet intimidating. Where does one even begin with such a massive show, spanning countless episodes? The fear of diving into something dense, overwhelming, and never-ending was real.
The answer, as it often is, arrived unexpectedly, during a bout of late-night channel surfing. Flipping through channels on a sleepless night, my attention snagged on astronauts in a Victorian library. The Kubrick-esque visuals were instantly captivating. Then came electronic ghosts, and invisible, floating piranhas – a bizarre and wonderful mix.
But the moment of true conversion arrived with a line of dialogue, something along the lines of: “You’ve been living in a computer simulation, your physical body is elsewhere.” The response? “But I’ve been dieting!” That blend of bleakness, subtle wit, and sophisticated humor sealed the deal.
It turned out I had stumbled into a “Doctor Who” marathon on Sy-Fy Channel. Sleep was postponed indefinitely. Episode after episode unfolded until the morning light, each showcasing wildly imaginative concepts and remarkably high-quality writing. This was clearly something special, a testament to the BBC’s commitment to long-term legacy over short-term gains. Think of their other triumphs: “Monty Python’s Flying Circus”, “Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Spy”, and “Brideshead Revisited.”
Based on that accidental marathon, Doctor Who earns a solid ten out of ten. It’s an invitation to a universe brimming with creativity and intelligence, and a journey I’m thrilled to have begun.
