In Its 60th Anniversary, Doctor Who Embraces Its Greatest Adventure Yet: Happiness

Doctor Who’s 60th anniversary saw the triumphant return of former showrunner Russell T. Davies, who kicked off a new era of the franchise while riotously celebrating all that had come before. In true Davies fashion, the trio of specials meant to commemorate this landmark event was stuffed full to bursting with the tropes and tricks that have long been a hallmark of his writing: bonkers plot twists, heartfelt emotion, rich character dynamics, and creepy monsters. (With an occasionally super campy set piece thrown on top. Looking at you, Neil Patrick Harris’s “Spice Up Your Life” dance number.) 

To be fair, there’s plenty about the final anniversary special “The Giggle” that doesn’t make a lot of sense. The whole “bi-regeneration” idea is a made-up bit of nonsense that seems to have been invented specifically to make sure David Tennant’s Doctor is still around in some way, just in case the man himself suddenly feels like putting the skinny suit back on for a holiday romp or a limited series spin-off. (It’s Disney, you know they’re going to try.) There are now two Doctors, two TARDISes, and a whole lot of confusion about what, exactly, any of this means for the franchise’s future going forward, Will Tennant’s Fourteen regenerate again when this particular body conks out? How is Ncuti Gatwa’s Doctor so well-adjusted if Fourteen hasn’t done any actual emotional healing yet? It’s the sort of twist Davies loves precisely because it will absolutely give you a migraine if you think about it too much, but that still somehow manages to make your heart feel so full that you can’t help but handwave off the dodgy bits. 

It’s not like this is the first time one of his big finales made up the rules as it went along. This is a man who wrapped up his original run by creating a human hybrid clone version of Ten (equally nonsensically called the Meta-Crisis Doctor) from a body part that was chopped off during his initial regeneration several seasons prior, before sending him off to live happily ever after with his former companion Rose in an alternate dimension. Davies’s superpower has always been his ability to write stories that make no sense at all narratively, but that somehow manage to get the emotional beats exactly right. Such is the case with “The Giggle,” an episode that once again upends established Doctor Who canon by choosing to go its own way. Not just by creating a second Doctor, but by deciding that the greatest adventure it can give its long-suffering main character is: a happy ending. 

One of the best things about Doctor Who as a franchise is how unabashedly hopeful it is. In our current era of frequently bleak and dystopian science fiction, it’s always been a comfort that this particular show, much like its elder-statesman contemporary Star Trek, understands that good storytelling doesn’t have to mean cynical storytelling. This isn’t a show that’s here to tell us that the world is a dark place or that monsters are real or that we all each carry within us the seeds of our own destruction. No, Doctor Who understands all that already, and yet still believes that redemption is always possible, that goodness is a choice, and that we, all of us, even and perhaps most especially the monsters, can decide to be better today than we were yesterday. Amazing things are possible. Heartbreak and angst don’t automatically make for a better story, and you don’t have to suffer in order to deserve peace. 

This is, of course, a difficult mission statement for any television series in our current pop culture landscape, let alone for one whose foundational myth is based on gut-wrenching, all-encompassing change. Perhaps that’s why Doctor Who‘s choice to simply… stop, even if only for one regeneration’s lifetime, feels like such a radical act. Despite the fact that the Doctor has vanquished countless foes, saved millions of lives, and torn himself to pieces in the name of doing good, giving him a happy ending was never really something any of us assumed was in the cards for this character. It’s groundbreaking, in a strange way, this idea that peace, that happiness is the Fourteenth Doctor’s final great adventure. And it is surprisingly perfect. It’s a radical act, honestly, like hope and love, and all those big, mushy things we’re meant to remember take real work and effort and aren’t just the prize you win at the end of a game. That we get to see this Doctor do that, it’s a gift.

Granted, it’s due to the whole ‘suddenly there are two Doctors now’ business that means Tennant’s Fourteen finally has the option of taking a break in a way he never has before in any previous regeneration. Sure, the Doctor was a regular guest at Amy and Rory Pond’s dinner table, and he got to spend one twenty-five-year-long night on Darillium with River Song, but up until now, even the Time Lord’s most deliberate holidays all came with the looming specter of an expiration date. This one… doesn’t, and Fourteen is allowed to contemplate his future in an entirely new and unprecedented way. To imagine a world where he doesn’t have to run forever; to realize that there can be joy in quiet, magic in the everyday, and adventure in simply being present for the people we care about. And isn’t that what we all hope to earn one day? A chance to lay our burdens down and rest, safe with those we love? It’s not the ending any of us would likely have ever predicted for Tennant’s second trip aboard the TARDIS, but it’s hard to imagine a better—or more earned—end for his Doctor. 

Lacy Baugher Milas is the Books Editor at Paste Magazine, but loves nerding out about all sorts of pop culture. You can find her on Twitter @LacyMB.

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