Explainer
Culture
Film & TV
Identity
5 min read

Adapting Doctor Who: it's time for change

The fan debate on associating disability with evil lacks nuance.

Harry Gibbins  is a doctoral researcher at the University of Aberdeen. His PhD concerns the intersection between autism and Christian ministry.

Davros, an alien leader sits in the lower half of a Dalek.
Davros: leader of the Daleks.

In an interview with behind-the-scenes show Doctor Who Unleashed, returning showrunner Russel T Davies had this to say about how iconic Doctor Who baddie Davros was to be portrayed in a mini-episode produced for charity event Children in Need last year. 

“We had long conversations about bringing Davros back, because he's a fantastic character, time and society and culture and taste has moved on. And there's a problem with the Davros of old in that he's a wheelchair user, who is evil. And I had problems with that. And a lot of us on the production team had problems with that, of associating disability with evil. And trust me, there's a very long tradition of this.” 

He continues to explain that this led the production team to depict Davros differently. Gone is the facial scaring, the wheelchair, the robotic eye, and the mechanical hand. Now, as Davies explains, Davros is seen through a lens in which disability stops being a way of identifying evil.  

“This is our lens, this is our eye. Things used to be black and white, they’re not black and white anymore, and Davros used to look like that and he looks like this now.” 

Davies’ comments caused somewhat of a split online with some fans. On the one hand, Davies is continuing a tradition that can be traced back to his previous work on Doctor Who between 2005 and 2010. For example, he purposefully wrote Billie Piper’s character Rose Tyler as working class to cut against the gain of the prim-and-proper received pronunciation of previous companion characters. Perhaps Davies was tired of the limited scope of once again portraying the villain as disabled. Just as he didn’t want another female companion who lacked agency and depth, depiction of Davros as disabled simply wouldn’t fit with this modern incarnation of the show. On the other hand, in his comments, Davies seems to suggest that if this character ever appears again, he will not be disabled, even if it contradicts previous storylines, retroactively removing this part of the character as if it was never there to begin with.

Davros isn’t evil because he’s disabled, so why is Davies so hellbent on changing something that wasn’t an issue to begin with? 

But is Davies’ efforts necessary? Reddit user u/Bowtie327 suggests that Davros’ disability isn’t important, “I can’t say I ever even drew a connection around Davros, being evil, and being disabled”, whilst another user u/PenguinHighGround claims that as a disabled person themselves they found him “weirdly inspiring, his (sic) goals are abhorrent, but he didn’t let his physical issues limit him”. X user @Dadros3 highlights how, as a wheelchair user, Davros has become a sort of science-fiction icon. He euphemistically states that “evil comes in all forms, all races, all genders, all abilities, and all disabilities. We cannot stand by and allow the cancellation of something for fear of offence that doesn’t exist”.

We are starting to see where the conversation heads; there are worries of by simply removing disability from the equation no effort is made to necessarily further the cause of disabled representation in media. Similarly, Davros isn’t evil because he’s disabled, so why is Davies so hellbent on changing something that wasn’t an issue to begin with? Whether it's that Davros’ disability wasn’t noticed by a majority able-bodied audience, or that his evil ideology has nothing to do with being disabled, Davros should stay put! 

What becomes clear is that the changes made to depicting Davros is a product of the philosophy of change that is woven into the show’s DNA. 

There’s a nuance that I believe has been missed by these arguments, a nuance that speaks to the philosophy that underpins what has led Doctor Who to last so long. I do not believe that Davies is suggesting that we pretend that harmful depictions of disabled people didn’t happen. Rather, this is a progression of a core part of Doctor Who

Doctor Who encompasses change. Whether it’s the titular character’s face changing every few years, new story motifs coming and going, or even entirely new production teams, change is what keeps the Doctor Who machine whirring. It is clear that in this new era of the show that Davies is looking for a sort of fresh start. That is what keeps Doctor Who alive, and I think it’s what can make it such a great show. The ability to, despite its long history, still tell a new story. Times where I think the show has suffered has been when it has tried too hard to emulate what has come before.  

This is a good opportunity to look back at how disability has been characterised in the media. It is good to sit with this tension even if we didn’t notice it and even if we don’t necessarily take offence. Interestingly, in the brief discussions Davies has had in the behind the scene footage he never mentions offence, nor does he want to attribute blame onto anyone for depicting a wheelchair user in such a way. Instead, he looks forward, just as we do as an audience. Forwards to opportunities to encapsulate the real lived experiences of disabled people, not only and narrowly looking at it as a way of identifying the baddie. Speaking to Doctor Who Magazine in 2022, casting director Andy Pryor stated that he is actually intentionally trying to cast more disabled actors claiming that “If you can’t cast diversely on Doctor Who, what show can you do it on?”. This is even reflected in the set design, with the TARDIS now being completely wheelchair accessible. What becomes clear is that the changes made to depicting Davros is a product of the philosophy of change that is woven into the show’s DNA. 

The original 1975 story ‘Genesis of the Daleks’, in which Davros first appears, is still available to watch on BBC iPlayer; no attempt has been made to alter the original to remove the problematic depiction of disability. These stories are still there for us to watch and learn from, not to pave over and pretend they didn’t happen. Perhaps this means Davies and the rest of the production team at Bad Wolf will be cautious about featuring Davros again. What we can say is that Doctor Who is a unique icon in the television space in the way it demonstrates how we respond to change.  

Review
Culture
Film & TV
Masculinity
4 min read

Adolescence reflects our darkest corners, here's how we can respond

Each one-take episode is an exercise in empathy.

Lauren Westwood works in faith engagement communications for The Salvation Army.

  A father walks with his son away from the camera, his hand on his son's shoulder.
Netflix.

‘Is it really that bad out there for our children?’ 

This was the text my mum sent our family group chat following episode four of Adolescence, the astonishing new drama from Netflix. Anyone familiar with previous work from Stephen Graham will know to expect grit and challenge, but Adolescence is different. 

Adolescence paints a stark picture of a world gone wrong. We observe this in the Miller family who, within a few minutes, stand and watch as their lives are upended when their teenage son and brother is arrested on suspicion of murder. 

Technically, it is remarkable. The script is stunning. The cast are incredible. The direction is impeccable. The camera perceives the action in one continuous take, and the viewer receives this without a single edit. We watch each second of the hour-long episodes with precise focus, curiosity, tension and compassion. As the camera is moved, so are we. We become immersed in the spiralling realities of the detective, of the disbelieving father, of the psychologist, of the scrawny boy who wets his bed when armed police raid his bedroom. We pass person to person and take on their emotional load, even for a moment. These are not simply tug-on-the-heartstrings moments, watching Adolescence is an exercise in empathy. 

These one-take episodes flawlessly capture extended scenes of flawed humanity. Minute by minute, we learn more about Jamie Miller, played by Owen Cooper, the thirteen-year-old boy at the centre of it all. His parents are loving. He gets on with his sister. He is polite to the nurse at the police station. Jamie appears like a typical young boy. A worn teddy-bear sits atop his star-adorned bedding that matches the wallpaper. His friends are impish, awkward and they are the usual levels of unkempt. He seems just like any other kid. 

These small acts bring light to dark places, and demonstrate how the viewer might live right in a world where much feels wrong. 

As the plot unfolds, we see how darkness, and Jamie’s anger, lurks behind a digital life. Mostly hidden in emoji codes and Instagram comments, it is only in episode three when a stream of explicit misogyny pours from Jamie’s mouth. It emerges that his development has been intercepted by exposure to toxic masculinity, incel ideology and the incessant rage of ‘the manosphere.’ We witness the unravelling of lives that are disconnected despite sharing the same roof. Just as the uninitiated are confused by terms like ‘red-pilled’, Jamie’s parents are stunned at why their child would commit such a crime. 

Adolescence is a sobering watch because it holds up a mirror to a bleak picture of society. In the same week that Netflix released the series, a teenage boy was sentenced to life imprisonment for the fatal stabbing of a fifteen-year-old girl in the London borough that neighbours my secondary school. 

But it is also a rallying cry for social response. The ultimate aim isn’t for the audience to be depressed into stagnancy, but to consider afresh the responsibility we have for each other, particularly for the generations coming behind us, and to take action in our communities. When my mum asked about the reality for ‘our children’, she was supporting this concept of collective responsibility and care for the next generation. 

As Adolescence reflects our darkest corners, so does it present those among us who are trying to connect and show up in love for struggling young people. We see this in the detective who goes to the chip-shop with his son in an attempt to build their relationship, and also in the psychologist who carries around a container of mini-marshmallows for Jamie’s hot chocolate. These small acts bring light to dark places, and demonstrate how the viewer might live right in a world where much feels wrong. 

The glimpses of positive intergenerational connection in Adolescence should serve as a compelling reminder to churches, a remaining shared space where generations collide. We learn so much from each other that we simply cannot gain from siloed, disconnected living. At its best, the Church provides a space that allows people to break out of their usual circles and habits, to be loved and to love, to be challenged and corrected, to develop a connection to God and to his creation.  

To consider again the question, ‘Is it really that bad out there for our children?’ 

Quite possibly. But in the reflecting of light, however dim it may seem, we are presented with the possibility of something better. As generational barriers come down, we can move beyond empathy and into action. 

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