The tradition of a Doctor Who Christmas special has become as much a part of the holiday season as mince pies and fairy lights. Long before the modern era launched with The Christmas Invasion, mentions of Christmas within the Doctor Who universe were scarce, perhaps most notably in the lost episode The Feast of Steven. However, since the show’s revival, a Christmas special has become an annual treat, each offering a unique festive adventure, though not traditionally focused on the religious origins of Christmas itself.
While it’s understandable that a science fiction program might sidestep the direct religious aspects of Christmas, some approaches have been more successful than others. Many beloved Christmas films, like It’s A Wonderful Life or Miracle on 34th Street, thrive on secular themes of goodwill and human connection. However, The End of Time special sparked debate by seemingly reducing Christmas to merely a winter solstice festival, a perspective that felt dismissive of the holiday’s deeper meaning for many. While acknowledging secular celebrations is perfectly acceptable, an apparent hostility towards the faith-based core of Christmas can feel jarring to some viewers. Perhaps this perspective was intended to be viewed through a Gallifreyan lens, offering a different cultural context.
Nevertheless, it seemed almost inevitable that Doctor Who would eventually embrace one of the quintessential Christmas narratives: A Christmas Carol by Charles Dickens. When the episode was announced with the same title and a similar premise, anticipation was mixed with apprehension. Trailers offered glimpses, but couldn’t fully reveal how this classic tale would be woven into the fabric of Doctor Who. Having now experienced A Christmas Carol, it’s clear that Steven Moffat drew inspiration not only from Dickens, but also from diverse sources ranging from How the Grinch Stole Christmas to Star Trek, and even the suspense of Jaws.
The story opens with a colossal spaceship hurtling towards disaster. Aboard are Amy Pond-Williams (Karen Gillan) and her husband Rory (Arthur Darvill). Dangerous cloud formations are preventing a safe landing, pushing the ship into a perilous descent. These clouds are under the control of Kazran Sardick (Sir Michael Gambon), a cold-hearted miser who shows utter indifference to the impending catastrophe and the 4,000 souls on board. Enter the Doctor (Matt Smith), who initially tries to reason with Sardick, pleading with him to disperse the clouds and avert tragedy. Kazran, unmoved, promptly ejects the Doctor. Undeterred, the Doctor, while pondering a solution, is struck by the sound of Christmas carols echoing across the planet. An idea sparks, and the Doctor decides to embody the Ghost of Christmas Past, aiming to melt Kazran’s frozen heart. He presents himself to Kazran, showing him visions of his younger self. Initially, the older Kazran claims no recollection of the Doctor’s past interventions, but as the Doctor begins to interact with young Kazran, memories begin to resurface.
These revisited memories introduce us to the captivating Abigail (opera singer Katherine Jenkins). Young Kazran yearns to witness the ethereal sky-borne fish. The Doctor obliges, showcasing these creatures, but inadvertently attracts a predatory sky shark. They manage to escape, but the shark is now grounded, unable to float. This encounter leads Kazran to Abigail, held captive within the depths of Sardick’s mansion (used as collateral for debts). It is revealed that Abigail’s enchanting voice possesses the power to animate the sky sharks. Captivated by her voice, Kazran promises to release her each Christmas. A montage unfolds, depicting the Doctor and Kazran sharing Christmases with Abigail, thawing her from her icy confinement for brief periods of joy. Romance blossoms between Kazran and Abigail, but a shadow falls when Abigail hints at a looming separation. Heartbroken and fearing loss, Kazran imprisons her once more, vowing to never release her again.
Then, Amy appears as the holographic Ghost of Christmas Present. She confronts the older Kazran with a poignant scene: children singing Silent Night, representing those who will perish if he maintains control over the storm clouds. Yet, Kazran remains resolute, embittered by the Doctor’s meddling with his past and the altered memories of Abigail, knowing that releasing her now would mean her death. Some sacrifices, he believes, are too much to ask. The Doctor reappears as the Ghost of Christmas Future, but with a twist – it’s not Kazran’s future that is revealed. Abigail herself emerges, and Kazran’s enduring love for her finally breaks through his hardened exterior, showing him the error of his ways. Ultimately, it is Abigail’s voice that becomes the key to salvation, calming the storm and saving the spaceship.
While A Christmas Carol commendably packs a complex narrative into a single hour, the pacing does feel rushed at times. Furthermore, some comedic moments feel awkwardly placed, disrupting the overall tone.
Consider the initial scene with Amy and Rory. For reasons that remain unclear, Amy is inexplicably wearing her “kissogram” policewoman outfit from The Eleventh Hour, and Rory is clad in his Roman Centurion attire from The Big Bang. Supposedly on their honeymoon, their attire shifts abruptly from wedding attire to these previous costumes. The implication of these outfits being part of a role-playing scenario, abruptly interrupted by a spaceship crisis, feels tonally dissonant with the gravity of the situation. The comedic intent of these costumes undermines the life-or-death stakes. This comedic thread continues when Amy attempts to act as the Ghost of Christmas Present. Amidst a crisis threatening thousands, Rory’s primary concern is Kazran potentially glimpsing under Amy’s skirt? This comedic beat feels misplaced and undermines the seriousness. A simple nightgown or negligee for Amy would have maintained the honeymoon context without resorting to repurposed costumes for cheap laughs.
The Doctor himself contributes to the misplaced comedy, not once, but multiple times. Firstly, during a Christmas dinner scene with Abigail’s family, the ‘pick a card, any card’ magic trick routine falls flat, lacking both cleverness and humor. Secondly, a visit to 1962 California and a fleeting Marilyn Monroe reference feels unnecessary and somewhat trite. Thirdly, the Doctor jokingly scolds a child for not believing in Santa Claus/Father Christmas, revealing Santa’s real name to be “Jeff.” These attempts at levity often detract from the narrative’s emotional core.
Even in moments intended to be serious, A Christmas Carol struggles to fully convey the sense of danger. We are told that 4,000 lives are at risk, but the urgency never truly resonates. Perhaps this is because we remain detached from the people on the ship, only seeing the bridge crew. The immediate presentation of this large-scale threat, without establishing personal connections, paradoxically diminishes the perceived danger. It becomes an abstract statistic rather than a tangible threat.
This detachment is further amplified by the visual design of the spaceship bridge, which bears a striking resemblance to the Enterprise bridge from Star Trek. Even the presence of a Black pilot with a visor evokes comparisons to Geordi La Forge. While director Toby Haynes likely wasn’t intentionally spoofing Star Trek, the visual similarities are so pronounced that they become distracting.
In essence, the narrative prioritizes Kazran’s transformation and Abigail’s story, at the expense of the 4,000 lives hanging in the balance. While Stephen Moffat crafts a logically sound time-travel narrative, some thematic choices are questionable. Kazran’s voiceover mentions, “Back on Earth, we called this Christmas or the Winter Solstice.” This line, seemingly downplaying the religious significance of Christmas, feels forced and out of place. While some may acknowledge the winter solstice, the vast majority associate this celebration with Christmas, not merely a seasonal marker. This line feels like an unnecessary attempt to cater to a secular viewpoint, potentially alienating viewers who appreciate the broader cultural context of Christmas.
However, one line in A Christmas Carol stands out for its unintentional humor. When Amy presents the children who are at risk, Kazran, in a furious tone, asks, “Why are they singing?”. This line inadvertently echoes The Grinch’s iconic question upon hearing the Whos singing on Christmas morning after his attempted theft. Whether intentional or not, the parallel between Kazran and The Grinch, both characters with hearts initially “two sizes too small,” is undeniable. Adding to the subtle homages, a fleeting shot of a shark fin in the icy fog even evokes the musical suspense of Jaws.
Beyond these stylistic choices, some plot points raise questions. Why did Abigail not disclose her limited lifespan earlier? How did Abigail reappear at the end without any visible intervention? And why the need for Amy and Rory’s distracting costumes in the opening scene?
Despite these narrative shortcomings, the performances of Michael Gambon and Katherine Jenkins are undeniable highlights. Jenkins, in her acting debut, delivers a captivating performance as Abigail, embodying sweetness, innocence, and vulnerability. Gambon portrays Kazran with nuanced depth, avoiding a purely villainous caricature and revealing glimpses of a wounded soul shaped by past hurts. Matt Smith’s Doctor, while sometimes leaning towards excessive lightness, delivers comedic lines with a natural ease, a definite strength.
Ultimately, A Christmas Carol prioritizes Kazran’s redemption over the broader stakes of saving the spaceship. The performances of Gambon and Jenkins, and Jenkins’ beautiful singing voice, elevate the episode, making it a watchable, if somewhat uneven, entry in the Doctor Who canon. Without their performances, A Christmas Carol might have felt remarkably lackluster, lacking in action, and burdened by awkwardly timed comedy.
5/10
Further Reading:
Matt Smith: Some Early Thoughts
Season/Series Five Overview
Next Story: Day of the Moon Parts 1 & 2 (The Impossible Astronaut/Day of the Moon)
