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“LUX: A CINEMATIC CREEPSHOW WITH CARTOONISH CHILLS AND META MAYHEM”

Lux opens with a bang—perhaps the most striking, cinematic, and genuinely eerie first act in the series since it returned. Set in a nostalgic 1950s Miami cinema, the cold open is a masterpiece in atmosphere and tension, as the story transitions from retro Americana charm to creeping horror. The mysterious picturehouse, the chained-up entrance with flowers laid for the dead, and the brilliant twist of having the cartoon villain literally step off the screen all serve to perfectly tee up Mr Ring-a-Ding—one of the most imaginative and unsettling antagonists modern Doctor Who has introduced.

With hand-drawn animation that evokes Who Framed Roger Rabbit and Space Jam, and a disarmingly jovial yet chilling performance by Alan Cumming, Mr Ring-a-Ding is a standout creation. He’s goofy, grotesque, and grotesquely goofy, shifting from slapstick menace to pantheon-level threat, all while crooning a disturbingly catchy theme tune. His evolution from two-dimensional cartoon to 3D monster is a brilliant visual metaphor for the story’s themes of emotional depth and humanity—and one of the most technically impressive things Doctor Who has ever pulled off.

SEGREGATION, GRIEF, AND GROWING HUMANITY

At the heart of Lux lies an emotionally charged and thematically rich narrative. The Doctor and Belinda, both people of colour, are thrust into the reality of America’s 1950s segregation, experiencing the prejudice of the time first-hand. The episode doesn’t centre its plot on race, but it does use the context to reflect on broader themes of identity and belonging. One of the most poignant scenes takes place in a segregated diner, where a grieving white mother turns against the very people trying to help her because of the colour of their skin. It’s a quietly powerful moment, highlighting how recent and raw these issues are.

Meanwhile, Belinda’s background as a nurse finally gets to shine—she instinctively helps tend to the Doctor’s injuries, only to be shocked by the excess bigeneration energy that allows him to heal himself. Her continued insistence on returning home also threads through the narrative, though she’s increasingly swept into the Doctor’s world, and perhaps a little too quickly loses her reluctance established earlier in the series.

The supporting cast is strong, even if some, like projectionist Mr Pye, could’ve used more screen time. His story—a man haunted by grief, manipulated by Lux with promises of reuniting with his late wife—culminates in a gorgeously realised scene where the two dance, and she slowly turns from black-and-white to colour. His decision to destroy the film reels and free Lux’s victims provides one of the episode’s most touching moments.

LIGHT, LAUGHTER, AND LORE

The mythology of the Pantheon deepens as Mr Ring-a-Ding is revealed to be none other than Lux Imperator, the God of Light. His method of trapping people in reels of film and feeding on the light of nuclear war cleverly links to both Cold War fears and the destruction of old media—a sly nod to the BBC’s own history with junked Doctor Who episodes. The theme of light is present throughout—from Lux being born of moonlight and projector bulbs to his final destruction via exposure to sunlight. It’s as clever as it is cheeky.

And then there’s that fascinating metaphor about escaping animation by gaining emotional depth—literally going from flat drawings to complex, three-dimensional beings through confession and vulnerability. When the Doctor admits his sorrow over Gallifrey, and Belinda shares her own fears, it becomes a moment of profound emotional honesty wrapped in a gloriously mad concept.

MEETING THE FANS AND BREAKING THE FRAME

Then the episode dives deep into metafiction, daring to break the fourth wall. The scene where the Doctor and Belinda meet Doctor Who fans inside a TV screen is likely to split viewers. The fans—complete with fezzes, scarves, and knowing references—are affectionate caricatures, and the writing here is full of love and wit. There's even a gag about leaks that makes it clear RTD is poking gentle fun at the real-world fandom. But while the sequence offers a sweet emotional crescendo, where the fans say they’ll vanish once the Doctor leaves but will always love him, it also halts the plot’s momentum. It’s clever and heartfelt, yes, but just a little long, and some viewers might wish for more time exploring the TV realm rather than this respectful pause.

Still, the framing of the fans as part of Lux’s fictional trap cleverly sidesteps full-on real-world crossover. These aren’t “real” fans—they’re characters created by Lux to distract and unsettle the Doctor, keeping the meta narrative just safely within fiction.

A CLEVERLY LIT CLIMAX

Thankfully, the episode snaps back into gear with a thrilling climax. With the Doctor drained of energy, it’s up to Belinda and Mr Pye to take action. Lux, a creature of pure light, is finally defeated not through shadow or trickery, but via sheer exposure to natural sunlight. This poetic irony—light defeating light—is underscored by the visual metaphor of overexposed film stock, and it doubles as a nod to Doctor Who's real-life history of lost episodes.

Lux’s apocalyptic ambition to feed off nuclear energy ties everything neatly into a Cold War backdrop, anchoring the surreal story in very real fears. And once Lux is vanquished, the return of the missing people to their families delivers a beautifully cathartic close—topped off by another teasing appearance from Mrs Flood, keeping us all guessing about the show’s impending climax on May 24th.

As a final treat, the mid-credits scene brings back the fans for a brief, bittersweet farewell—or perhaps a setup for their return in the finale? Either way, it’s a reminder that this show still knows how to surprise, delight, and pull at the heartstrings all at once.

📝VERDICT: 10/10

Lux is a tour de force of ambition, style, and emotional depth. Its inspired blend of retro horror, animated fantasy, and metafictional reflection delivers one of the boldest and most inventive Doctor Who episodes in years. A few pacing stumbles aside, this is a dazzling showcase of what the series can achieve when it dares to colour outside the lines. Mr Ring-a-Ding is an instant classic, the visuals are groundbreaking, and the themes resonate long after the lights come up.