Me? A stranger? Can you imagine me as a stranger, Miss Brown?"
Ah, I love the way all these little Easter eggs in the dialogue keep coming- the choice of quote was no choice at all. Although he Fourth Doctor's parting shot to the Sixth ("I can't hear you over the coat!") was certainly in the running.
So this finale really is a coda, and a kind of character piece... but that's exactly what was needed. We have all these characters together in the Eye of Orion, waiting for the "new flow of history" to catch up, so let's enjoy them. It's a definite positive that, the Meddling Monk's suggestion to Ten about preventing the Time War because Damon's murder by the Valeyard makes it a kind of paradox so therefore sort of ok to break the rules a bit aside (ahem; that's quite the clause there), we need not worry about plot.
So we get a succession of both fun and poignant moments. I'm not sure Benton's lines about the used car salesman story being, well, a cover story, just like the Brig as a teacher, quite fits with the events of Mawdryn Undead, but no matter. Adric, Katarina and Sara Kingdom all get a nice little mention... although (very topical to mention The Daleks' Master Plan this week!) I've never understood why fandom tends to treat Sara as a companion but not Bret Vyon. Here we have Six meeting Maxil... I suppose it would be asking too much for Bret to meet the Brig!
Doctor 2.5 is an interesting loose end, as is the Valeyard's "familiar" regeneration which never does get explained. But there's no need to spoon feed us everything, and the plotting (yes, I've seen the extra stuff, and the flowchart) remains magnificent throughout.
The partings at the end are all perfect. Ten acknowledges that Five was "a good me", Eight realises he has an impossible decision ahead of him- and Nine can't bear to say goodbye to him. But life goes on... in this case right on to Smith and Jones.
Absolutely brilliant stuff.
The D and Cs enjoying the brief chance at relaxation after the difficulties of the the last few hours is wholesome. Them sharing stories, actually having fun, not saving the world or discussing troubles. Just having fun and sharing memories before the joruney has to continue on for the Doctor.
ReplyDeleteGoing by the context of the series when this comic was made, I think Rich Morris made a "perfect ending" for the Doctor's character's arc that not even the show writers could be able to understand fully; at his core, the Doctor is truly a God-like being with a cold demeanour, living a dangerous, transient life with no permanent ties. We have seen moments that best reflects his real emptiness and sadness. He failed to defeat the Daleks when he had the chance, he failed to save Gallifrey, he keeps on losing companions, he lost his original home, he lost all of our family... and for what? To save the universe that made us do all that? He just DON'T WANT TO BE ALONE ANY MORE.
That was what it came down to, in the end; in this life he was always aware of his solitude. It had almost been easier when he departed after Gallifrey's destruction; during the time he met Rose, he'd grown used to the silence of his head, and even after he'd learned what he really was he'd been comfortable simply returning to life in the TARDIS, but having to live with those memories, coupled with his regeneration so shortly after the fact. He'd essentially learned what he was missing and lost the century or so of psychological and physiological stability he'd acquired since he'd actually lost it; looking at his past selves at the end of this story, the Doctor was almost amazed that he hadn't been more unstable than he was.
Even if he had recovered somewhat with Rose to give him something to fight for, that didn't change the fact that he had experienced so much hardship at this point of his life...he thought that there was no way anyone else could understand what he went through... thought that there was nothing left for him now but an old ship that sometimes seems to be on the verge of falling apart and a universe that regards him as everything from a legend to a nightmare depending on their prespective.
But there's something he remembered that his previous self had forgotten.
He's not alone; he has the largest family in the whole universe, with friends spreading out across the whole of time and space, reaching out from a battered old blue box to create familial bonds wherever he go and with whoever he meet, regardless of factors such as age, origin, background, or even species.
It's not always perfect, and there are things that they can't give him, but what family is perfect? What matters is that they're there for him, and they accept him and his faults, just as he accepts them and their faults; complete acceptance isn't necessary so long as they're willing to try and understand him.
And that's always the way of it with families, really. The Doctor would proably be remembering some of the few dinners he'd had to attend with Jackie and Mickey after his regeneration made him more open to the idea (Honestly, why did he seem to be finding companions with families more often these days?). They exasperate him, frustrate him, push him to the point where he wish he didn't have to deal with them... and then they show him that they care by doing something for him that he can understand and appreciate, telling him that they can get him even if they don't always show it.
It really one wonders, would he really going to risk the family he found out here, the family that accepted and understood him as who and what he were without asking for more from him than what he were willing to be, the family that never wanted him to be anything more than the Doctor who travels through time and space and sees the universe... for the family that always did nothing but drop him when he didn't do exactly what they wanted him to do with his life?
(End of part 1)
The Doctor may be a godlike, powerful being in a sense, from an unimaginably powerful civilisation. Yet, in all such characters throughout all of fiction, he is perhaps the most humanised. I agree with all the eloquent thoughts you've expressed there... Time Lord or not, if you lose the family you started with, or never had one, you don't need to choose loneliness. You can simply find another family in time.
Delete(Part 2)
ReplyDeleteWhile one could understand Gailfrey was where the Doctor came from, and the time lords are his people, they have always been cruel to him and Earth has always been his true home.
It’s not like he’s been visiting Earth ever since he left Gallifrey, more than a thousand years ago.
It’s not like he frequently spends loads of time with Humans from Earth.
It’s not like he was forced to live in exile on Earth for several years by the Time Lords.
Before he regenerates, the Third Doctor says to Sarah the TARDIS brought him "home". At the beginning of this incarnation, he hated the fact that he was stuck on Earth. Then, over time, he began to like it and see it as home, to the point that he stayed on it even after his exile had been lifted.
No wonder, later, Sarah Jane Smith once referred to the Doctor's companions as his family, telling the Tenth Doctor, "You act like such a lonely man, but you've got the biggest family on Earth!"
When the Doctor refused to destroy the daleks in his 4th incarnation, he did what he thought was right at the time. Maybe he made the wrong choice when they met, but he made the choice that he could live with, Because sometimes, the strongest thing to do is nothing. The Doctor knows why he couldn't change history, and his answer was that it makes it too complicated if he just change everything; some catastrophes have to happen if anyone is going to learn anything, and changing everything freely just gives us all more power than anyone should have a right to…
It is also nice how the First Doctor says the old saying, that he feels that his future is in good hands, even knowing that his latest two future selfs destroyed their own planet; 9 or 10 wouldn't have asked for fear of seeming petty, but faced with this original version of himself, the one still so bound to the rules of the civilisation he'd abandoned, the First Doctor understands what 9 and 10 did what had to be done to fulfil the principles that even Gailfrey's writers had forgotten,. 1 clearly understands theyve clearly had an interesting life… but he feel prouds to know that he will become 10, and feel certain that he will do the right thing whenever the time comes.
He just saw his past and had to fight the founders of his civilisation and know that there's nothing he can do to change what they're about to go through," Well, it's been rough, of course, but he also realises he made the right choice, as he returns to the TARDIS, the blue box the last representation of what he had been. Maybe some of the Time Lords didn't deserve what happened to them when he chose to end the war, and he'll always regret that he wasn't able to save them when he took action, but after seeing what kind of lengths Gailfrey were willing to go to in order to keep it alive…he accept that he had no choice, If Gallifrey was willing to go that far to survive… it didn't deserve to.
Acknowledging that there was nothing he could have done to save someone might be important, but that didn't mean that he could easily forget what they had been before falling so far…
At the end of this story, the Doctor might still be the last Time Lord, but with his journeys as a means of continuing his legacy, and various companions remaining in his company…In a small way, their company proved that there was still hope for a brighter future, even amid the darkness and chaos he always endured.
He might have destroyed Gallifrey, but moments like this proved to the Doctor that he had made the right choice; humanity's best had pitted themselves against what his enemies's greatest had to offer, and they had prevailed through their willingness to work with each other rather than just trying to kill everything against them.
The home that never understood him had been sacrificed, but he'd saved the home that had taken him in and shown him that he wasn't alone.
The brief moment where Susan says goodbye to the 8th and 10th Doctors, saying to her grandfathers that she hopes he finds another companion soon to keep him on edge because she does not like the thought of him travelling alone, is significant given such a thing never happens in the series. As you point out in your review of the Five Doctors, the little time for dialogue means we don't have some decent conversation between her or any of her grandfather's incarnations. Even in RTD’s second era, Susan only appears for one second in a pointless cameo in a vision, she might as well have not shown up (and no, I am not counting any future appearances as that has NOT yet happened!)
ReplyDeleteHere, the expression on the young girl's face when she says goodbye to 8 and 10 indicates that she was fighting her own desire to just avoid a whole conversation to satisfy her immediate curiosity (Not that readers could blame her for her discomfort; the idea of mentioning the Doctor's guilt might lead to questions about what he had to feel guilty about, which would not help her avoid mentioning the destruction of Gallifrey to anyone who shouldn't know about the extent of the details.
But seeing 10, this current future self, seeing that in some ways, he has developed into the strongest, bravest, kindest, noblest man, she sees her grandfather got the potential in him to be far more than what he is at first; he'll save so many people, defy so many monsters and villains...perhaps much like how Susan fled with her grandfather, she realises he never did fit in back home, but she knows her grandfather is not forgetting her former family (again, timeless children was far from a thing then)
The treatment of Susan here was very wise, I think. It wouldn't have worked to have her ask loads of questions and become au fait with events and concepts in her personal future, but depth of characterisation is deftly expressed through hints and nuance, definitely the right approach here.
ReplyDeleteAlso, Rich Morris resists the temptation to do as I would have done and allude to the Lungbarrow canon where Susan is the Other's granddaughter. Ah, weren't looms lovely...?
On the archive website, you can find Morris’ other comics: After Rich finished with the Ten Doctors, he really started playing around with the possibilities for crossovers. His second comic Forever Janette, featured the Eight Doctor running into the cast of the vampire police show Forever Knight. His next story The Stalker of Norfolk, was written in conjunction with his wife Hilary Doda. It plays as a straightforward historical, dealing with The Third Doctor investigating mysterious events in Elizabethan England. Another is Outrage, which features another unlikely crossover. This time with Colin Baker's Sixth Doctor and the 80's cartoon Jem and the Holograms. In 2011, he left the fandom leaving his last story, A Time To Kill, unfinished; a James Bond/DW crossover, with an added wrinkle regarding Bond's true nature (think like code name theory with time lord hint to explain the different Bonds). The other one focuses on the Daleks and their run in with the Xenomorphs of Aliens fame. It's simply titled Daleks vs. Aliens.
ReplyDeleteHis magnum opus The Ten Doctors is his legend; the fact it included all ten of the Doctors, most of their companions, all of the classic villains, and featured a story that tied all of these elements together and in a truly epic manner is quite an accomplishment. I have been in talk with Rich Morris and he says he is still honoured by the acclaim for his story
I'm so glad he realises how good and how appreciated this story is. It really is extraordinary.
DeleteTo repeat myself, it taps into something deeply true for many fans. The Ten Doctors exists in a kind of perfect time capsule: a point in the fandom where the classic series had been lovingly re-evaluated, the modern series was still new and exhilarating, and the future still felt wide open, full of possibility rather than division.
DeleteIt captures not just the show, but a feeling—of being a fan when it felt more like a shared celebration than a battleground of opinions. Before debates about canon and continuity fractured communities. Before the discourse felt like homework. Before “Doctor Who” became more about “what it should be” and less about “how it made us feel.”
Rich Morris’s comic radiates the joy of the series. It revels in the silly, the sincere, the epic, and the personal, without irony or apology. There’s no need to reconcile timelines, retcons, or canon wars. You just get to love the characters, the stories, and the daft brilliance of it all.
And yes—by the fact he just had the official Ten and not having to fold in the War Doctor, or the Timeless Child, or any expanded pre-Hartnell lore—it preserves a continuity that feels both complete and intact. It lets us play in a version of the universe where things made sense enough, and more importantly, felt right.
In that way, The Ten Doctors becomes more than just a fancomic—it becomes a refuge. A reminder of why so many of us fell in love with Doctor Who in the first place: not because it was perfect, but because it was strange and brave and human and fun. And in the middle of fan wars or divisive storytelling choices, it's comforting to know there's still a place you can go where all the Doctors are together, the companions are heroic, and the story is full of heart.
Sometimes, nostalgia isn't about living in the past—it's about remembering the parts of it that still matter...
It was certainly an interesting time, perhaps the high point of post-revival Who. And perhaps, as you say, the ideal moment for something like The Ten Doctors. The lore, at this point, hadn't really been expended upon by the revived series other than the very broad concept of the Time War. And I suppose it was a kind of Schrodinger's Time War(!), we could imagine anything. Any actual detail (beyond cool hints like "Medusa cascade" and "The Could-Have-Been-King" was carefully avoided.
DeleteBut then would come Day of the Doctor. Oh, it was brilliant... but did it open Pandora's Box, set a precedent that we could play once again with Gallifreyan lore again, thus begetting the Hybrid, the Master destroying Gallifrey again, even the Timeless Child. Or, perhaps, what if Moffat had firmly closed the door, after Time of the Doctor, to the Time Lords returning, and not done any of that stuff with the Hybrid or what would lead to Hell Bent...?
In The Ten Doctors, none of that has happened. Continuity is not broken. And, yes... it's all just so joyous, and it's fun in the way that The Five Doctors was fun.
I am aware of the fandom becoming somewhat toxic, filled with controversial opinions and enraged and lies fans over the past 13 years, but when I mention the Ten Doctors to anyone, they suddenly change; they become United and talk about the comic, like it unites them. it taps into something deeply true for many fans. The Ten Doctors exists in a kind of perfect time capsule: a point in the fandom where the classic series had been lovingly re-evaluated, the modern series was new and exhilarating, and the future still felt wide open, full of possibility rather than division.
ReplyDeleteIt captures not just the then present state of the show, but a feeling—of being a fan when it felt more like a shared celebration than a battleground of opinions. Before debates about canon and continuity fractured communities. Before the discourse felt like homework. Before “Doctor Who” became more about “what it should be” and less about “how it made us feel.”
Rich Morris’s comic radiates the joy of the series. It revels in the silly, the sincere, the epic, and the personal, without irony or apology. There’s no need to reconcile timelines, retcons, or canon wars. You just get to love the characters, the stories, and the daft brilliance of it all.
And also, while some people may note aspects that may have not exactly became the future of the show as it was thought to be—by the fact he just had the official Ten incarnations and not having to fold in the War Doctor, or the Timeless Child, or the expanded pre-Hartnell lore—it preserves a continuity that feels both complete and intact. It lets us play in a version of the universe where things made sense enough, and more importantly, felt right.
In that way, The Ten Doctors becomes more than just a fancomic—it becomes a refuge. A reminder of why so many of us fell in love with Doctor Who in the first place: not because it was perfect, but because it was strange and brave and human and fun. And in the middle of fan wars or divisive storytelling choices, it's comforting to know there's still a place you can go where all the Doctors are together, the companions are heroic, and the story is full of heart. I’m glad this story is preserved.
Sometimes, nostalgia isn't about living in the past—it's about remembering the parts of it that still matter.