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Late (as usual)... But with added River meta.
Happy Belated Birthday ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
promethia_tenk, and a Happy Birthday today to hesadevil!
Life is... busy. This weekend we're having one of Darcy's friends staying, which is nice, but means minimal LJ time. But since Darcy's still not feeling brilliant we stayed in and watched 'Groundhog Day' this afternoon, and I think it'd probably be my Desert Island movie. *deep happy sigh*
Later, the Cherub proved that she is adorableness incarnate by holding up the (Tenth) Doctor's screwdriver to her forehead and going: "WOULD. YOU. LIKE. A. CUP. OF. TEA?" (Victory of the Daleks is her favourite episode ever, and she can recite whole conversations by heart...)
Oh, and Promethia, since my birthday wishes are belated, I'll throw in a teeny bit of River meta. Thoughts on the Library and the Angel eps under the cut.
Firstly, watching the Library episodes was very interesting in the light of S5, but what I noticed was this exchange, towards the end of 'Forest of the Dead':
MR LUX: We need to get to the main computer, I'll show you.
DOCTOR: It's at the core of the planet.
RIVER: Well, then. Let's go!
[She sonics the symbol on the floor at the center of the room, and it opens up.]
RIVER: Gravity platform!
DOCTOR: I bet I like you.
RIVER: Oh, you do!
In those last two lines you can see things just snapping together - the Doctor has a problem, and River already has the solution (she sonics the floor symbol when they enter, and obviously works out what it is then). I think he at that point begins to realise just what an asset she is - the way she can deal with problems on her own and doesn't wait to be told what to do; and these are things he likes. A lot. But what I noticed even more was the smile on her face. How she so obviously got a feeling of 'Finally, he's getting it!' That she wouldn't have to argue with him every step of the way anymore. This scene, I think, is far more important for them than the moment when she tells him his name. That moment is borne out of painful necessity, whereas this one just flows from the characters naturally. (And I rather like it, hence the rambling.)
ANYWAY, what I was going to write about was the Angel episodes. Because Promethia mentioned how nervous River is (once the soldiers show up), and upon rewatch I had to agree. Not just nervous but exceedingly jumpy, on edge, and evasive. Trying to work out why this was (in the final two episodes, with the universe collapsing, she's far calmer!), I realised that the reason is two-fold. One, she knows what's going to happen in the future (end of the universe), which means that she needs to get both the Doctor and Amy through the adventure safe and sound - cause otherwise, bye bye reality (the Doctor needs to save the universe, and Amy needs to bring him back), and River can't let slip a single spoiler, she knows that, hence nervousness and evasiveness. And Two, once the crack shows up she realises that she's inside re-written time, and how exactly does that even work? No wonder she's on a knife edge. Then at the end, once they're all out, the single dominant feeling, I think, is one of relief. She knows that things are going to be OK now, and she can stop worrying. (In her own way, I suppose you can say that she saves the universe in these episodes! 'Savethe cheerleader the Doctor and his companion, save the world the universe... And, of course, she can't tell anyone. She is very, very lonely here, carrying an extra burden no one knows - or indeed can know - about.)
And that's all for now. *runs back to RL*
promethia_tenk, and a Happy Birthday today to hesadevil! Life is... busy. This weekend we're having one of Darcy's friends staying, which is nice, but means minimal LJ time. But since Darcy's still not feeling brilliant we stayed in and watched 'Groundhog Day' this afternoon, and I think it'd probably be my Desert Island movie. *deep happy sigh*
Later, the Cherub proved that she is adorableness incarnate by holding up the (Tenth) Doctor's screwdriver to her forehead and going: "WOULD. YOU. LIKE. A. CUP. OF. TEA?" (Victory of the Daleks is her favourite episode ever, and she can recite whole conversations by heart...)
Oh, and Promethia, since my birthday wishes are belated, I'll throw in a teeny bit of River meta. Thoughts on the Library and the Angel eps under the cut.
Firstly, watching the Library episodes was very interesting in the light of S5, but what I noticed was this exchange, towards the end of 'Forest of the Dead':
MR LUX: We need to get to the main computer, I'll show you.
DOCTOR: It's at the core of the planet.
RIVER: Well, then. Let's go!
[She sonics the symbol on the floor at the center of the room, and it opens up.]
RIVER: Gravity platform!
DOCTOR: I bet I like you.
RIVER: Oh, you do!
In those last two lines you can see things just snapping together - the Doctor has a problem, and River already has the solution (she sonics the floor symbol when they enter, and obviously works out what it is then). I think he at that point begins to realise just what an asset she is - the way she can deal with problems on her own and doesn't wait to be told what to do; and these are things he likes. A lot. But what I noticed even more was the smile on her face. How she so obviously got a feeling of 'Finally, he's getting it!' That she wouldn't have to argue with him every step of the way anymore. This scene, I think, is far more important for them than the moment when she tells him his name. That moment is borne out of painful necessity, whereas this one just flows from the characters naturally. (And I rather like it, hence the rambling.)
ANYWAY, what I was going to write about was the Angel episodes. Because Promethia mentioned how nervous River is (once the soldiers show up), and upon rewatch I had to agree. Not just nervous but exceedingly jumpy, on edge, and evasive. Trying to work out why this was (in the final two episodes, with the universe collapsing, she's far calmer!), I realised that the reason is two-fold. One, she knows what's going to happen in the future (end of the universe), which means that she needs to get both the Doctor and Amy through the adventure safe and sound - cause otherwise, bye bye reality (the Doctor needs to save the universe, and Amy needs to bring him back), and River can't let slip a single spoiler, she knows that, hence nervousness and evasiveness. And Two, once the crack shows up she realises that she's inside re-written time, and how exactly does that even work? No wonder she's on a knife edge. Then at the end, once they're all out, the single dominant feeling, I think, is one of relief. She knows that things are going to be OK now, and she can stop worrying. (In her own way, I suppose you can say that she saves the universe in these episodes! 'Save
And that's all for now. *runs back to RL*
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And looking forward to your thoughts, whatever they might be. I wish I'd been able to formulate mine better...
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the Doctor has a problem, and River already has the solution (she sonics the floor symbol when they enter, and obviously works out what it is then)
I love how, the moment she walks into any space, she finds something to investigate or fix--no commentary, she just does it. Also love Moffat's tendency to stick moments like the sonicing the floor in without drawing much attention to them. Then when they end up being relevant you get to feel smart for remembering them :-)
But what I noticed even more was the smile on her face. How she so obviously got a feeling of 'Finally, he's getting it!' That she wouldn't have to argue with him every step of the way anymore.
This. Very much so. I think the real moments of understanding between then are all very quiet--as you say, things just snapping into place. Which brings us to:
Because Promethia mentioned how nervous River is (once the soldiers show up), and upon rewatch I had to agree. Not just nervous but exceedingly jumpy, on edge, and evasive.
I'm glad you see it too--I bring it up and I'm always waiting for people to shout me down. Although, I've gotta say, to me she even feels off before the clerics show up, but it's hard for me to express why. I mean, for the rest of the episode, she's very quiet, but I think she's displaying pretty conventional signs of nervousness. At the beginning of the episode, though, it's almost like she's too smug--there's an edge to it like she's leaning too hard on her flippancy. I don't think I really expect to convince anyone else of this, but I can't shake the feeling that it's there. Once things get more serious, she has to drop the bravado, and the nervousness comes through.
Trying to work out why this was (in the final two episodes, with the universe collapsing, she's far calmer!), I realised that the reason is two-fold. One, she knows what's going to happen in the future (end of the universe), which means that she needs to get both the Doctor and Amy through the adventure safe and sound
I'm gonna admit that you really, really surprised me with the reasons you came up with--like, double-take kind of surprised. I mean, I read them and it was like "yes, that is perfectly plausible; yes, that makes sense" and yet I'd been attributing her nervousness almost entirely to interpersonal stress--specifically all the antagonism the Doctor is directing at her. (ooo, dissertation ahead--time to examine the gut instincts) Ten, it's true, gave her a lot of antagonism as well, but as she repeatedly says in those episodes, he is, really, a stranger to her, and she frames him in that way--spends a lot of time processing it as though needing to think of "her Doctor" as opposed to this earlier Doctor is an entirely new concept to her. With Eleven in the Angels episodes, though, she doesn't make this same kind of distinction: she gets that it's early for him, and yet she still seems to basically accept him as "her Doctor," and even tells Amy "the Doctor is the Doctor"--no such distinction needed. (Admittedly, she's also giving Amy the brush off, but it still seems like quite the contrast with the Library episodes.)
and some more . . .
Hmmm . . . sudden thought. Let's see how this looks written out: River's emotional state and emotional reactions in the episodes we've seen are almost always somehow mirroring or reflecting the Doctor's. In her own way, she's just a mercurial as he is, but I think he's the one really dictating the tenor of their interactions, with her having to adjust herself in response. Ten was very brash and shouty and pushy and very forceful in his suspicions, and she tended to push back. Eleven in the Angels episodes is more wary, and she gets wary. He's also got that sudden Eleventy anger thing going on, which she won't match him in, but she ratchets up the smug to buffer it. At the end of those episodes he gets flirty, so she flirts back. In the finale, it's not like he's gotten all affectionate, but he basically seems to accept and respect her from the start, so she's a lot more emotionally neutral--they kind of act like colleagues or something. She doesn't even try to banter with him until he does it first, but as soon as he does she's fast and loose with it, like she's been holding back. And then in that final scene she's definitely watching him and gauging him, trying to figure out where he is--hence the "are you asking?" question. Oi vey, she really is all over the map, and yet I feel like she shows a great deal of consistency in following his lead.
River can't let slip a single spoiler, she knows that, hence nervousness and evasiveness.
You know what scene still strikes me as odd? Just after they leave Amy in the forest, the Doctor is examining the data from the crack on River's computer, and she asks him "how can a crack in the wall be the end of the universe?" The only thing I can conclude is that she is "teachering" him--she knows the answer but is asking the question anyway to prompt him to think about it. She does an awfully good job of playing dumb, though--doesn't even hesitate. I suppose she is, actually, a teacher, what with being a professor and all, so maybe it's practically a reflex by now, but what a strange way to have to act! Absolutely have to agree with you on that one: the end of the universe is coming and she knows it and she can't do a thing to warn him! Weird. Stressful. And yet, can the whole situation, at its core, really be that different from what she must have to do with him all the time? Maybe it's not always the end of the universe around the corner that she has to keep from him, but given that it's the Doctor, there's always going to be something big and dramatic and dangerous with a lot of lives hanging in the balance coming up. Heck, in the finale, she must know the whole time that "when everything changes" is going to happen soon, and yet I don't see particular signs of her struggling to keep that secret. Maybe she is though. Admittedly, I didn't notice how nervous she was in the Angels episodes until I'd seen her in the finale. Maybe the next time we see her it'll change our perspective on what was going on with her in the finale :-) and then we'll have an excuse for a whole lot more rewatching and meta =D
and yet even more . . .
Did you ever read that article that one of the sci fi websites put together analyzing all the technicalities of how the cracks and the finale worked? Let me try to find it . . . Here it is:
http://www.denofgeek.com/television/529293/explaining_doctor_who_the_big_bang.html
It's a complicated read, but I'm really impressed with how much sense they managed to make it all make. Basically, the normal timeline of the series does not get rewritten in the Big Bang, and the entire season still happened. The universe was destroyed and recreated in the exact same instant on Amy's wedding day, and for everybody not involved with the events of "The Big Bang" it would be just like the universe had continued uninterrupted. The cracks still happened--they appeared and grew and ate things and disappeared again. Anything eaten by the cracks stays eaten unless Amy specifically remembered it back into existence. What does disappear/get rewritten is all the events of "The Big Bang" itself--that whole alternate universe and timeline didn't happen. All of which is just a complicated way of saying, yes, River can have a run-in with a crack in her personal timeline even after the cracks have been fixed in the show's timeline. Although, come to think of it, how is she to know that? But then she does seem pretty knowledgeable about the mechanics of rewriting the entire universe in "The Big Bang," enough to be able to explain it all to Amy and Rory, so . . . ok, I give up. Wibbly wobbly, timey wimey.
(In her own way, I suppose you can say that she saves the universe in these episodes! 'Save
the cheerleaderthe Doctor and his companion, savethe worldthe universe...Tee hee :-) Actually, it does kind of add a whole other layer to her attempt--again--to sacrifice herself in the Doctor's place. How often do you think she tries that? Wonder if she tried it in "The Big Bang." There was a conversation in the Pandorica we weren't privy to, before River came to get Amy. That'll get pretty dull for the audience after awhile, though--lol.
And, of course, she can't tell anyone. She is very, very lonely here, carrying an extra burden no one knows - or indeed can know - about.)
Ouch. That must be the case for both of them most of the time, though. At least they're together in their aloneness?
*surveys word vomit* And I think I've managed to argue against just about everything you said :-\ Sorry? I'm still very happy you wrote it *hugs the birthday meta*
Re: and yet even more . . .
Heh. I shall read the article and maybe get back to you (if I can think of anything intelligent) - but going down a tangent, then what has struck me is that the Doctor-less universe seems to have worked quite happily, which is in stark contrast to the parallel world in 'Turn Left' (which of course was there for a reason, I'm not trying to make it sound bad). It just once more confirmed that Moffat's Doctor is someone who is more like a wonderful cornucopia of fabulousness, without whom the world would be a greyer, less magical place, rather than someone vital to the whole destiny of the world... (Reminded me of this: 'Doctor, listen to me. You can't die, you're too... You're too nice. Too brave, too kind and far, far too silly. You're like Father Christmas! The Wizard of Oz! Scooby Doo! And I love you very much. And we all need you and you simply cannot die!' rather than 'You were my life!')
That'll get pretty dull for the audience after awhile, though--lol.
Hee! It would rather. *g* Plus, overwrought romance isn't very well suited to DW... (If you'd watched Buffy I could point to the *perfect* example. ETA: Actually, I tracked it down. Watch this. You can start at the beginning or just jump to 55 seconds in. Watch for the next minute and a bit. And yes, it's supposed to be rather ridiculous. *g* BtVS is quite brilliant at poking fun at itself.)
*surveys word vomit* And I think I've managed to argue against just about everything you said :-\ Sorry? I'm still very happy you wrote it *hugs the birthday meta*
Don't be sorry! Your thoughts were brilliant and intriguing and much better than 'That was very interesting, thank you'. (Which is a perfectly nice response, but getting someone to *think* is much more satisfying!) *hugs your comments*
Re: and yet even more . . .
I forget most of it by this point, but any time anybody has a "what actually happened in the finale?" question I point them towards it. I'm pretty sure the answers are all in it, even if I forget them.
what has struck me is that the Doctor-less universe seems to have worked quite happily, which is in stark contrast to the parallel world in 'Turn Left' (which of course was there for a reason, I'm not trying to make it sound bad).
Ah, that I do remember about. The cracks seem to erase the memory of a person without erasing their effects on the universe (ie: Amy's parents are erased, but Amy still exists; the Angels were eaten but the events of the Angels episodes still happened). So while all memory of the Doctor has been erased, the things he did remain.
(Reminded me of this: 'Doctor, listen to me. You can't die, you're too... You're too nice. Too brave, too kind and far, far too silly. You're like Father Christmas! The Wizard of Oz! Scooby Doo! And I love you very much. And we all need you and you simply cannot die!' rather than 'You were my life!')
Those sound familiar. Where are they from?
ETA: Actually, I tracked it down. Watch this. You can start at the beginning or just jump to 55 seconds in. Watch for the next minute and a bit. And yes, it's supposed to be rather ridiculous. *g* BtVS is quite brilliant at poking fun at itself.)
OMG, that is hysterical. Love it. Actually, I would rather like to see DW go for something really cracky and overwrought like that--just for an episode. I mean, the show can handle some genre bending.
(Which is a perfectly nice response, but getting someone to *think* is much more satisfying!) *hugs your comments*
So true :-)
Re: and yet even more . . .
Ahhh. Interesting. Yes, I can sort of see that.
Those sound familiar. Where are they from?
The Curse of Fatal Death!!! It is the key to EVERYTHING!!!
OMG, that is hysterical. Love it. Actually, I would rather like to see DW go for something really cracky and overwrought like that--just for an episode. I mean, the show can handle some genre bending.
The whole ep is from the POV of Xander (the guy at the start), and I love, love, love the send up of the Buffy/Angel romance. (Not that it isn’t properly heartbreaking on occasion, but in this ep the BIG APOCALYPSE they deal with all takes place in the background whilst Xander is fighting a much smaller battle of his own. It works like a dream. Especially love the background music swelling as he leaves.)
Re: and some more . . .
Very good points. And I've just realised that it's not unlike the start of the Library eps: "You're doing a very good job, acting like you don't know me. I'm assuming there's a reason." Except she can't really ask 'Why are you being an obnoxious jerk?'...
River's emotional state and emotional reactions in the episodes we've seen are almost always somehow mirroring or reflecting the Doctor's. In her own way, she's just a mercurial as he is, but I think he's the one really dictating the tenor of their interactions, with her having to adjust herself in response.
*nods a lot* Also, there's the fact that he still doesn't know who she is, and I think this might change their interactions somewhat - in many ways she is flying blind in these episodes, adjusting herself out of necessity, since he doesn't understand all the factors yet.
Oi vey, she really is all over the map, and yet I feel like she shows a great deal of consistency in following his lead.
This! Absolutely! :)
The only thing I can conclude is that she is "teachering" him--she knows the answer but is asking the question anyway to prompt him to think about it. She does an awfully good job of playing dumb, though--doesn't even hesitate.
Indeed. Although when he works out how to close the cracks (throw himself in), she looks on the verge of panicking. Of course she knows that this is how he will solve the problem come TBB, but again she's hit the snag that she *can't* let him do it now. Like you say, she seems to be pushing him in the direction he needs to go, but it's a very dangerous thing to do, because he'll jump ahead.
And yet, can the whole situation, at its core, really be that different from what she must have to do with him all the time? Maybe it's not always the end of the universe around the corner that she has to keep from him, but given that it's the Doctor, there's always going to be something big and dramatic and dangerous with a lot of lives hanging in the balance coming up.
True. But considering that when it comes to the Pandorica if things go wrong there won't *be* a universe, the stakes are particularly high. (I have a whole thing about how past/present/now works for them, but I need to sit on it for a bit longer, mulling it over.)
Re: and some more . . .
Oooo, good comparison. You know, the last time I watched those episodes I remember wondering if she was actually teasing him a bit there--I can imagine the Doctor being characteristically . . . shall we say? . . . overenthusiastic in greeting her under normal circumstances. I'll bet she'd enjoy giving him some guff for that.
Also, there's the fact that he still doesn't know who she is, and I think this might change their interactions somewhat
Agreed. Frankly, I want to see some earlier River so badly. I'm *this close* to flying across the pond to shake down Moffat for it. I'm running out of ways to speculate.
Although when he works out how to close the cracks (throw himself in), she looks on the verge of panicking . . . she seems to be pushing him in the direction he needs to go, but it's a very dangerous thing to do, because he'll jump ahead.
Very true. And I think it's all the worse for her being so aware of the extent to which stress and emotional involvement tend to compromise his objectivity. Like in the Library episodes how she tells him she knows he's upset about Donna but he needs to stop being so emotional and concentrate on the people still alive? That whole scene in "Flesh and Stone" is like an awful nightmare version of that--he's so stressed about Amy and Octavian's death and what he's just heard about River and all the rest of it that he's making terrible calls, can't seem to see what's actually going to work and what's not, turning a deaf ear to her input . . . and then he starts talking about throwing himself into spacetime cracks. She's really got no way to keep him from doing something rash and stupid like getting himself killed.
(I have a whole thing about how past/present/now works for them, but I need to sit on it for a bit longer, mulling it over.)
*is intrigued*
Re: and some more . . .
Oh I’m sure! And
Frankly, I want to see some earlier River so badly.
I want early!River, and yet I am staying away from all the spoilers because I DON’T WANT TO KNOW. (Spoilerphobe through and through, that’s me! I didn’t even use to watch the ‘Next Time’ trailers, but what with being more involved in fandom they became impossible to avoid...)
Very true. And I think it's all the worse for her being so aware of the extent to which stress and emotional involvement tend to compromise his objectivity.
He is, of course, far less unstable than Ten, but even so your comment made me think of this *fabulous* bit from 'Busman's Honeymoon':
He [Harriet's husband] worried a great deal.
"Very likely he does," said Mrs Goodacre. "You can see he's that sort. Simon's just the same if he has had to be severe with anybody. But that's men all over. They want the thing done and then, of course, they don't like the consequences. Poor dears, they can't help it. They haven't got logical minds."
*is intrigued*
It also goes in to theology, and how we can have free will if God 'knows our future'. I hope it won't underwhelm. (Or possibly I've already given it all away.)
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I'm sure I've told you about the time the answer to someone's comment turned into a 10,000 words essay?
I love how, the moment she walks into any space, she finds something to investigate or fix--no commentary, she just does it.
I'd not really noticed that until you pointed it out, but yes, you're absolutely right. (I'm wondering if this is an inherent trait or something she's picked up from the Doctor...)
Also love Moffat's tendency to stick moments like the sonicing the floor in without drawing much attention to them. Then when they end up being relevant you get to feel smart for remembering them :-)
He's great at writing stuff like that! :)
This. Very much so. I think the real moments of understanding between then are all very quiet--as you say, things just snapping into place.
I'd pretty much forgotten that scene, so it was a delightful re-discovery.
I'm glad you see it too--I bring it up and I'm always waiting for people to shout me down.
If they do, then they are *blind*.
At the beginning of the episode, though, it's almost like she's too smug--there's an edge to it like she's leaning too hard on her flippancy.
Oh I can see that, yes. I think it's partly that she's just testing boundaries, once she discovers how clueless he is (The Blue Stabilisers!), but also deliberately staying on top of the situation so she can control it, and him. I was also struck by her playful "You don't know who I am yet, do you?" which is in sharp contrast to her pleading in SitL (although there she just wants to know that he knows her, really) and her apologeticness in TBB. Most of her behaviour is a mask.
I'm gonna admit that you really, really surprised me with the reasons you came up with--like, double-take kind of surprised.
Goodness. I'll take that as a compliment! *g*
I'd been attributing her nervousness almost entirely to interpersonal stress--specifically all the antagonism the Doctor is directing at her.
I think I'd just sort of filed that away as obvious - I don't mean that disparagingly, esp since your thoughts on the differences between the Angel and the Library eps are brilliant, but in the sense that I probably noticed this the first time and wondered what else could lie behind her nerves... I mean, he is VERY GRUMPY, and she tries stay above that, teasing him, but is clearly fed up/upset that he's so hostile. Plus she's a prisoner and has to work with both sides - there's plenty of reasons to be nervous, just from what we see onscreen. I was trying to work out if there was more to it!
spends a lot of time processing it as though needing to think of "her Doctor" as opposed to this earlier Doctor is an entirely new concept to her
*nods a lot* This also ties in to what I said above - the Doctor in the Angel episodes has no trouble throwing problems at her, expecting her to solve them. He might not like her, but he trusts her. Library Doctor doesn't, that's the difference.
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Indeed you have :-) It's always refreshing to come here and know I don't have to worry about bowling you over with speculative excess. Out in the wilds of LJ, I'm always feeling apologetic over it. But it almost hurts to hold it in! What is it like to take in one thought and to get one thought back in response (rather than 15)? It must be so restful :-\
(I'm wondering if this is an inherent trait or something she's picked up from the Doctor...)
My money's on most of "serious" River being inherent to the character and "theatrical" River being more something she learned/developed in her association with the Doctor, but fandom consensus seems to want to see it the other way round. Not that it has to be quite that clear cut or anything.
once she discovers how clueless he is (The Blue Stabilisers!)
Can I just say how much I love her little chin flick/*heh* thing she does at that point?
I was also struck by her playful "You don't know who I am yet, do you?" which is in sharp contrast to her pleading in SitL (although there she just wants to know that he knows her, really) and her apologeticness in TBB.
I'm confused by the last one. What scene are you referring to?
Most of her behaviour is a mask.
That I most definitely agree with.
I think I'd just sort of filed that away as obvious . . . but in the sense that I probably noticed this the first time and wondered what else could lie behind her nerves . . . I was trying to work out if there was more to it!
Hmmm . . . I guess I tend to see the interpersonal factors as enough, particularly given how solid River always seems in a crisis or when dealing with practical problems. Additionally . . . and I'm not quite sure how to formulate this; I've never really written it out before . . . River seems galvanized by objective necessity. If something needs doing, if something *must happen* she does it, she makes it happen, and the knowledge that some particular course truly is necessary seems to serve more as a ballast than a burden to her. When does she ever seem more sure of herself than when she's doing what she knows needs to be done? I'm thinking particularly of both her sacrifice of herself in the Library and of her calm acceptance of the Doctor's sacrifice of himself in "The Big Bang," but I feel like you see the same principle at work in almost everything she does. The minute she knows she needs to, she'll break out of prison and engage in a number of shady activities to get the Doctor his warning. She can push down panic and accomplish things like fixing the transporter or getting the TARDIS doors open--because that is simply what must happen. She was the one telling the Doctor in "The Pandorica Opens" that he had no way to win and he needed to run away--that he didn't have the sense to listen was his own fault. And, again, she's the one who can go to the Doctor and say "you're too emotionally invested right now, you need to step back and concentrate on what needs doing." If River had been in the Doctor's place in "The Waters of Mars" she would have walked right out that door and gotten the hell away from the planet without a look back--because she would have known what needed to happen.
Admittedly, knowing what needs to happen and knowing how to make it happen are two different things, and getting the Doctor and Amy through the Angels episodes alive was definitely a difficult objective in a complicated and evolving situation. But I guess I tend to see the knowledge of what she needed to have happen as more likely be something she could hold on to to bear herself up through the whole situation--an objective on which to concentrate to keep herself going--rather than an added burden. Rather like the principle of "ignore the shouting, concentrate of fixing the transporter" expanded to encompass the entire episode.
no subject
And from typing all that, I was just struck with something from TPO/TBB. River, in the TARDIS, does get genuinely panicked once she realizes this outside force has taken control away from her--the pleading with the Doctor "Doctor, please, I've got seconds" seems uncharacteristic, and her voice actually breaks--and yet when the Doctor rescues her in the next episode, mere minutes later from her perspective, she's calm enough to fire off jokes. What happened in between is that she refocused herself on the task of getting the doors open--it had to happen, so she (almost) made it happen--and having that objective seems to have been enough to calm her down considerably. Hmmm, all the joking was probably venting stress, wasn't it? I mean she goes straight from "what sort of time do you call this?" to teasing about swappable heads to shooting the fez, all in the course of about a minute, when in the previous episode she'd barely said or done a single humorous thing since scolding the Doctor for not answering his phone.
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Exact same pattern as above (stress, concentrate, joke) happens in "Flesh and Stone" with the transporter. Yelling/nervousness, fix the transporter, suddenly calm and vents with a joke "maybe when you're older."
Although, come to think of it, both the situation with the transporter and the rescue from the TARDIS are also major turning points on the interpersonal front too, what with the "I could bloody kiss you" and "Hi honey, I'm home." So I guess in both cases you can't really attribute her change in mood to one thing or the other--the improvement in the objective situation and the improvement in the interpersonal situation coming bang on top of each other.
Huh, Moffat really likes to twist the two together, doesn't he? Makes it more fun to pick apart.
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The thing is, the Buffy verse characters do this pretty much always, so I kinda see that as the normal, default reaction in these situations. Life threatening situation followed by banter just seems perfectly natural.
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I think we agree with each other – I’m just throwing ideas out there and when you bounce them back they all shift. Plus the situation is tricky enough to be multi layered.
Hmmm, all the joking was probably venting stress, wasn't it?
Oh yes, And it’s a way of not talking about the fear and the stress and all the other things that are much too close still.
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*grins*
My money's on most of "serious" River being inherent to the character and "theatrical" River being more something she learned/developed in her association with the Doctor, but fandom consensus seems to want to see it the other way round.
Depends whether she started out an academic or a crook, I suppose.
Can I just say how much I love her little chin flick/*heh* thing she does at that point?
I like a woman who's not afraid to be awesome. :)
I'm confused by the last one. What scene are you referring to?
I meant the ‘I’m sorry, but that’s when everything changes.’ There is a wistfulness to her that's very different to 'You don't know who I am yet' from Time of Angels.
River seems galvanized by objective necessity. If something needs doing, if something *must happen* she does it, she makes it happen, and the knowledge that some particular course truly is necessary seems to serve more as a ballast than a burden to her.
This is a brilliant insight. Yes, I agree 100%!
If River had been in the Doctor's place in "The Waters of Mars" she would have walked right out that door and gotten the hell away from the planet without a look back--because she would have known what needed to happen.
Absolutely. She's a lot less sentimental too, I think.
But I guess I tend to see the knowledge of what she needed to have happen as more likely be something she could hold on to to bear herself up through the whole situation--an objective on which to concentrate to keep herself going--rather than an added burden.
Oh, now that’s a good point. I like it. Yes. And it could explain part of her aloofness – concentrate on the mission, don’t get sidetracked, fudge tricky questions. (And that goes for her behaviour at the start too – by bantering she’s also keeping control of the situation.)