It's the simple things

My favorite episodes are always the simple and touching ones.  They may mostly take place in one room, but the acting and the simple elegance of the story pull you in.

Because I am on my Doctor Who kick (eventually I will post about the other great science fiction loves in my life), I am going to go with some of my personal favorites.

Now, I love big thrilling episodes with casts in the hundreds and tons of scary monsters.  "Journey's End", "The End of Time", "The Satan Pit", and "Doomsday" are brilliant.  I also love my medium-fancy episodes with a couple of nice sets. "The Doctor's Daughter", "The Girl in the Fireplace", "42", and "Planet of the Ood" are just, well, lets just say I still talk to the screen when I watch the story unravel.

But back to my point.  I adore a good simple story.  The ones where there are very few special effects or sets, and you hang on to every word and expression to bring you in.

"I know what it's like to travel a long way on your own.
I sympathize, that's all."

I just re-watched "Fear Her", and I'm surprised that I forgot about this one.  The basic premise is: little girl is possessed by a lonely alien child, little girl draws pictures of people to put them in the lonely alien child's world, and in the Crowning Moment of Heartwarming what carries the alien child back out into space to find its brothers and sisters is warmth and love.  Sounds cheesy, you say.

But it's really very beautiful.  And here's why.

Little human girl, Chloe, is taken by the alien child because it sees something familiar in her.  They are both lonely and frightened.  Chloe was abused by her father who died over a year ago.  Mum doesn't like to talk about it because she is afraid of confronting the reality herself.  She wants to keep busy, to move on and never look back.  Normal, happy, nice.  The alien child is used to an empathic connection with four billion brothers and sisters, but suddenly she is separated from them in the vastness of space.  Chloe is drawing all on her own, looking out at life from her window, isolated and confused, and alien child floats in.  Little alien child loves Chloe, and the only monsters are the ones Chloe creates from the darkness in her mind (this is a theme in Doctor Who).

Chloe is entranced upon meeting little alien child.

The Big Bad is Chloe's father.  He is a drawing that can come to life, powered by the intensity of Chloe's fear.

Rose tells Chloe he is not real.  That Chloe can stop him.  Chloe hesitates, then says: "I can't!".  In her mind he can never be dead; she still sees him in every corner and every shadow and she is waiting, dreading the next time he will hurt her.  We see her father as she saw him, and in the face of something so terrifying she cannot believe that she is not helpless.  Still looking back at the stairs her father is coming down, she reaches her hand out behind her and shouts "Mommy!".  Her mother, pounding the door and frantically turning the handle, only sees the man on the stairs.  Chloe keeps saying "I can't, I can't", huddles to the ground, and waits for the inevitable.  She says her mother's name one more time, the fear almost keeping her from being able to speak.

"Chloeee.  I'm coming to GET YOU."

Her mom glances down to see her child on the floor and she immediately drops to the ground and holds her, saying "You're not alone.  You'll never be alone again.".  She loves her daughter more than she fears her husband.  They just sit and wait, taking a stand, and start singing "Kookaburra" together.  Yeah, ridiculous song.  That's why it's so powerful.  It's nonsensical, and it takes the power out of the fear.  Big scary demon, and they laughed at it.  And it went away, because the only hold it had over them was fear.

Did you ever sing when you were really, really afraid?  Sometimes there's nothing else you can do except close your eyes and sing or say a little prayer.  It's like, you can't just try to push the fear away anymore and somehow you have to make it go away.  Even if facing it could bring something terrible to bear you just can't stand being that afraid any longer, and nothing could possibly be as bad as the fear.  Nothing someone could do to you could be that bad, if you get to that point.

You can collapse inside yourself, and be sad and lonely and horribly afraid.  Or you can ride out and meet it, think of something silly and happy, bright and shiny in your head.  Then darkness and the fear isn't all there is, and whatever happens you know that there are good things, better things.

In fact, if your mum holds your hand what once frightened you could scatter into a million pieces, and when you next see it maybe you can't remember why it was so terrifying in the first place.  It's only a shadow, and because you are holding on to a song you know very well what light does to shadows.

It's simple, and it's pretty, and when it nicely wraps up in the end at least part of you knows it's true.

Of course, the Doctor and Rose are adorable in this one.  This is the final episode before Rose is lost, and part of it is about the Doctor, and how loneliness can affect someone.

"We’re not dealing with something that wants to conquer or destroy. 

There’s a lot of things you need to get across this universe. 

...You know the thing you need most of all? You need a hand to hold."

Some related Carl Sagan for ya:
"For small creatures such as we the vastness is bearable only through love."

I'll do recaps for my other favorite simple episodes, "Midnight" and "The Beast Below".

You know what it is about these episodes for me?  They take me off guard, because they are little stories about the power of love.  Simple compassion. Small glances and words and gestures you don't brace yourself for, because you can't realize the magnitude until suddenly you know what it means.  And evil that is truly disturbing because you know it is real.  The best and the worst of us.

It's a truth that can only be told through fantastic stories and images, because the facts just don't cover it and this is the only way someone else can see it.

Tim O'Brien said it best:
"A lie, sometimes, can be truer than the truth, which is why fiction gets written."

"I want you to feel what I felt. I want you to know why story-truth is truer sometimes than happening-truth."

That's why this is important.  You can hear about things but not see them, and you can see the raw truth and still not understand.  To recreate that utter chaos and throw it at the world, to force them to react you need fiction.