Skip to content

Review of The Empty Child by deltaandthebannermen

10 June 2024

The Empty Child and The Doctor Dances are two episodes which have become iconic. It’s the first writing credit for Steven Moffat on the TV series. It’s the first appearance of John Barrowman as Captain Jack Harkness. It features the ‘the Empty Child’ and the ‘gas mask zombies’ who have remained a striking, recognisable image for even casual viewers of the series.

It’s also a story which, typical of me, I was underwhelmed by on broadcast. I don’t think I’ve watched it since. Series 1, as a whole, was enjoyable at the time – not least because of it being brand new Doctor Who after the long years in the wilderness – but was, as a series, utterly eclipsed by what came next and, in my mind, wasn’t an era I was desperate to revisit.

The beauty of Doctor Who though (and something I really think the more rabid, kneejerk denizens of fandom forget (or wilfully ignore)) is that it is eminently rewatchable and more often than not, as this marathon has proved time and time again, when I revisit a story which underwhelmed me on broadcast, I find I enjoy and appreciate it much, much more.

Already immersed in World War Two what with The Churchill Years and particularly, my last entry on the Torchwood episode, Captain Jack Harkness, and previous to that Victory of the Daleks (or at least the first half of it) the story immediately struck a different chord. The way that war-torn London is depicted is immediately on a much larger scale than those previous stories. Torchwood was restricted to period costumes and set dressing in a dance hall and Victory of the Daleks spent its budget on a new paradigm of Daleks.

The Empty Child has entire sequences of Rose hanging from a barrage balloon whilst planes zoom around her and explosions rock the ground and sky. An invisible spaceship is tethered to Big Ben and plays Glenn Miller. There are numerous locations: a family home complete with Anderson shelter; a ‘deserted’ hospital; a crash site surrounded by barbed wire and armed soldiers. Everything is presented in glorious period detail and the atmosphere of doom and desperation pervades the story, making the climactic scenes all the more joyous.

Key also to the story’s success is Florence Hoath as Nancy. She is the entire heart of the story; the secret key to everything that is happening. As I understand it, Hoath has since retired from acting, which is a shame, as she is a powerhouse in this story showing steel and vulnerability in equal measure. She would have made a superb companion. Rose, in contrast, doesn’t actually get much to do aside from flirt with Captain Jack. Her main function seems to be to aggravate the Doctor by commenting on Jack’s more appealing sci-fi credentials. I’m not a huge fan of Rose but it does seem that Moffat is happier writing for Nancy’s pseudo-companion and of establishing Jack’s ‘loveable rogue’ credentials before he, himself, does join the TARDIS crew.

I’m never going to be a massive fan of the 9th Doctor either but this is definitely one of Eccleston’s better stories. Unsurprisingly, his scenes with Nancy are the best, particularly the scene where he appears at the dinner table with the children. The way they interact at a level of almost equals is fascinating. The Doctor knows less than Nancy about the situation so respects her advice and intel. He also simply accepts the way she has to live without judgement. There has been much said about how the Doctor is Series 1 is a facilitator, often taking a back seat to other characters solving the dilemma. It was an aspect I found frustrating. In this story, however, it works better than in others because whilst Nancy is the key to solution, the Doctor isn’t completely passive in the resolution.

The macguffin of the nanobots causing the gas mask ‘infection’ is a fun idea which allows for an ending that is slightly unusual in Doctor Who and earns the Doctor’s unbridled joy in the climactic scenes (as well as earning Richard Wilson’s gag about Mrs Harcourt’s extra leg (which itself seems to riff on Moffat’s other ‘too many legs’ joke in Coupling)).

The one aspect of the story which I’m not sure is warranted or needed is the whole ‘Doctor Dances’ theme. As a metaphor for ‘sex’, it seems a little on the nose when Rose invites the Doctor to ‘dance’. As a way of contrasting the Doctor with Jack, I’m not sure it is needed as the ‘sci-fi’ credentials schtick is more than enough ( especially the amusing sonic screwdriver scene). I know the modern series has been more in touch with the Doctor’s sexuality than the classic series ever was, but having an episode with a title that effectively means ‘The Doctor has sex’ seems a bit too much.

But it’s a minor niggle with a story packed with great performances, a tangible atmosphere deriving from excellent period detail and some exciting and chilling set pieces.

Review created on 10-06-24