The Girl Who Died / The Woman Who Lived

These two episodes are ostensibly a two-parter linked as they are by the character of Ashildr (Maisie Williams). But they don’t follow immediately on from each other. Indeed, The Girl Who Died is written by Jamie Mathieson and Steven Moffat, and The Woman Who Lived is written by Catherine Tregenna. 

The Girl Who Died seems to be a straightforward base under siege story – if the base is a Viking village. The Doctor and Clara turn up and defeat the enemy with a combination of intelligence and potential internet-based humiliation.

In the process though we’ve been introduced to Ashildr, who is a young Viking woman who immediately draws the Doctor’s attention. Ashildr is different. She’s a dreamer and a creator. It is her creation that helps defeat the Mire (for that is the name of the cruel but easily dispatched enemy.) Unfortunately, the process of saving her village kills Ashildr.

But the Doctor is in one of his moods. He’s tired of losing people so, after a moment of reminding himself why he chose his current face - which is a scene I like - he decides to save Ashildr using a chip cobbled together from Mire technology. In doing so though he doesn’t consider – or doesn’t want to consider – the consequences, which is that he has made Ashildr functionally immortal. He doesn’t dwell on that for long, but he is aware that he might have made a mistake. The Doctor also throws in the first mention of ‘hybrid’. This we are given to believe might turn out to be important because of how it is played. We shall see.

The episode ends, not with a cliffhanger, but with a beautifully filmed scene.  We see Ashildr looking at the countryside and sky. Then we realize that time is passing. We watch as the sun rises and falls. Faster and faster. * And as we watch Ashildr’s expression changes. It’s a brilliant short-cut to show the impact of immortality on Ashildr. Everyone involved deserves a round of applause: the writers, Ed Bazelgatte, the Director and Maisie Williams as Ashildr. It still has an impact now on re-watch even though I know it is coming.

The Woman Who Lived picks up much later. We are in England and it is the time of the Commonwealth and Cromwell. Ashildr – or Me as she now prefers to be called – is a highwayman. And she’s got a plan to get her off the planet. Whatever the theoretical plot of this episode – an alien has an artifact and plans to use it to do something nefarious – that’s not the point of it at all. This is an episode that – for all its laughs, often provided by Sam Swift (Rufus Hound) – is a meditation on immortality and the consequences of the Doctor’s involvement in the world.

Ashildr/Me’s life, which is we can see stretching out before us represented by shelf after shelf of her diaries**, is a living reminder of what happens when the Doctor gets involved in your life without thinking of the consequences. It’s also a reminder that immortality is not all it is cracked up to be, which I think is an ongoing theme of Steven Moffat’s Doctor Who: the value of a short life lived to the full versus the cold, cold emotional life of an immortal. There are only so many family members, friends, lovers and children you can lose before it starts to make you cold-hearted. Unless, as the Doctor does, you travel with us mayflies to remind yourself of the value of life.

Ashildr/Me has managed to convince herself that she doesn’t care for anyone. She doesn’t even remember all the people she’s known and loved. Her initial home, which she would have died for, and her father are all memories she has lost. She has written down what she can remember but has torn out some of the pages because those are the most painful of her memories except she has kept those pages that describe the death of her children though as a reminder never to have any more.

Ashildr’s story is heartbreaking, but the Doctor – and her own actions – draw her out of herself and (almost) final scenes have her and the Doctor talking over a pint about why he can’t take her with him and why she will now spend her time tidying up after the Doctor’s interference on Earth. Once more The Doctor is accused of running away. Of not dealing with the consequences of his actions and there’s a good case to be made on that score and not just with the stories set on Earth. I'm always reminded of the end of 'Creature of the Pit' when the Doctor and Romana leave without considering whether they're leaving the right people in charge. I have always wanted to write a series of short stories outlining what happens in various places after the Doctor has left.

The interesting thing about The Woman Who Lived is we are without Clara so that The Doctor and Ashildr/Me can be given the dramatic weight it deserves. Clara would have been a distraction. Here the Doctor is forced to face the consequences of his actions, even if he feels that he isn’t entirely to blame for what Ashildr has become. But then he admits to having seen her before now and not saying anything or doing anything, which seems harsh to me.

This is a fine two-parter. It plays with the format. It’s well-directed and well-written, even if the two episodes don’t seem to be too plot-heavy. It’s the arc of Ashildr/Me that makes it excellent. There’s some good acting too. Not just from Capaldi and Coleman, which goes without saying these days. Although I’d say some of Capaldi’s scenes with Maisie Williams are amongst his best work in the part. I also enjoyed Maisie Williams's performance and I’m assuming she’s going to pop up again before we’re done. Plus, a round of applause for Rufus Hound who I enjoyed a lot as the useless but important Sam Swift.

This didn’t reach the heights of The Wizard’s Apprentice/The Witch’s Familiar, which is the season’s strongest story so far, but it managed to combine telling a story and examining the Doctor’s life without becoming either boring or self-indulgent.

*It reminds me of the description of what the Time Traveler sees in H.G. Wells’ ‘The Time Machine’, which may be its genesis.

**A personal line of thought I went meandering along at this point is when did she start writing these and in what language. We’re the first volumes in Viking Runes? Did she learn Old English and did she change as the language changed or did she have to re-learn English as it developed.