Andrew Crome assesses the enduring appeal of Doctor Who ...

When nine missing episodes of Doctor Who recently turned up in Nigeria, causing something of a media storm, a slightly bemused Austrian colleague admitted to me that the news coverage finally convinced him of “how central this programme is to UK culture”. His initial confusion on encountering Doctor Who was understandable. After all, why is it that British viewers have been entranced by the story of an ancient alien voyaging through the universe in a time-travelling Police Telephone box for the past fifty years? What is it about Doctor Who that appeals to us?

Perhaps there is something unique about Doctor Who’s format? The flexibility of the show has always been one of its great strengths, allowing viewers to be drawn into an incredible variety of different settings. In the first series alone (1963-4) the TARDIS took viewers from contemporary London to the Stone Age, to the radioactive swamps of Skaro, the plains of Mongolia and the acid seas of the planet Marinus. Doctor Who’s format has allowed its writers free reign to visit great moments of the past, set stories on space ships or on undersea bases, or to explore exotic alien worlds limited only by their imaginations (and the BBC effects budget).

This flexibility also allows Doctor Who to range across genres at will. Both the classic and revived series have produced episodes which could be classified as historical drama, social satire, space opera, comedy, surreal fantasy, and gothic horror. At times, all of these elements might be found within a single episode. Much like its changing setting, the fact that Doctor Who has the ability to shift genres at will has helped to keep it fresh, and has allowed it to appeal to viewers of all ages and personal tastes. If we don’t like the style of a particular story, we can tune in next week to see something that might be entirely different in terms of setting and genre.

Then, of course, there is the Doctor himself. Despite the individual idiosyncrasies of his incarnations, he remains a representation of ideal moral qualities. He is a force for tolerance and enlightenment; an enemy of the oppressor and a friend to those who are mistreated. Despite being an alien, he represents the best in humanity, and helps his human companions become better people. Even though he makes mistakes, he seeks redemption; ultimately, he learns that he must temper his great power with mercy if he is to avoid becoming a monster. Yet this does not mean that he is not mysterious: indeed, the question of his true identity has loomed over the series ever since Ian Chesterton uttered those fatal words in 1963: “Who is he? Doctor who? Perhaps if we knew his name we might have a clue to all this”. As recent episodes have shown, the mystery of the Doctor’s name is central to the fate of the universe, and speculation surrounding the character has provided fans with a massive, complex problem to puzzle over for the past fifty years. Whatever is revealed in “The Day of the Doctor” on November 23rd, it is highly unlikely that the series’ central mystery will be solved for good.

Yet trying to explain the enduring appeal of Doctor Who by focusing on the programme itself only tells half the story. Doctor Who inspires a particular emotional connection for so many people because of the way it has worked its way into their lives. For some, the programme brings to mind family rituals when the whole household would come together to watch, or the nostalgic memory of fleeing behind the sofa when the Daleks first appeared. For others, the show provides them with an identity and a new group of friends through entry into the organised world of fanzines, online message boards, appreciation societies and conventions. The appeal of the programme shifts beyond television and expands into a new social world. Even for those who would have hesitated to describe themselves as out and out “fans” of the show before its revival, it was still capable of evoking strong feelings and a shared cultural memory – prior to the new series, references to the Daleks, or to large houses as being “TARDIS like” were commonplace in British popular culture. As Doctor Who triumphantly returned in 2005, it was revealed just how strong this cultural memory was, and just how powerful the feelings the show evoked could be. Doctor Who’s deserved success is, of course, down to the talented team of actors, writers, directors, producers and technicians who have produced it across the years. But its ability to endure is surely also due to the emotional connection it has generated with its viewers, and (in Britain at least) to its elevation to the status of a national treasure.

Each Doctor Who fan will have a personal tale to tell about how they discovered the show (for me, through reading John Peel’s thrilling Target novelisation of The Chase as an eight year old), and it is undoubtedly the show’s dedicated fanbase that has played a key role in helping it to endure for so long. While we can break down the reasons for our love of Doctor Who by listing its qualities, at the end of the day, fans become fans of a particular show because it speaks to them powerfully

at a certain moment of their lives, and goes on speaking to them as they move forward. Along with the awards it has won, the high drama it has brought us and through all the memorable monsters and various incarnations of its lead character, it is this emotional connection that is perhaps Doctor Who’s most enduring legacy.

Andrew Crome is co-author of Time and Relative Dimensions in Faith, published next week on October 29.