Warning: Spoilers Ahead for “Lucky Day.”

With the announcement of the writers for this season of Doctor Who, one name raised my eyebrows: Pete McTighe. While he boasts an extensive filmography, his previous work on “Kerblam” has left a sour taste for many fans. This particular episode was criticized for portraying a dystopian workplace where the protagonist’s fight for worker rights was overshadowed by a narrative that painted the protestors as villains. Therefore, I was pleasantly surprised to discover that “Lucky Day” not only addresses important political themes but does so with an impactful narrative, striking a bold tone akin to a protest with molotov cocktails in hand.

The narrative begins in 2007 when the Doctor and a companion named Belinda arrive in London just as midnight strikes on New Year’s Day. The Doctor, armed with his trusty Vindicator, receives a set of coordinates but soon realizes a young boy named Conrad Clack has witnessed the arrival of the TARDIS. In a moment of kindness, he gifts Conrad a 50 pence piece, declaring it his “lucky day.” However, upon returning to his mother, Conrad’s excitement is met with skepticism and disbelief as she dismissively scolds him for fabricating stories about a magical blue box.

Seventeen years later, Conrad stumbles upon the TARDIS once more, this time parked in a shadowy alley. Curiosity piqued, he investigates a nearby building with a broken lock and discovers a dilapidated department store, where he soon feels a chilling presence. Suddenly, an unseen monster brushes against him, leaving a slimy green residue on his neck — a mark of its prey. Just as the terrifying creature, known as the Shreek, prepares to attack, it’s swiftly zapped away by the Doctor and Ruby, saving Conrad from an agonizing fate.

From a hidden vantage point, Conrad observes the Doctor hand Ruby a vial of antidote, revealing that she too has been marked. As they discuss their recent escapades — including Ruby’s previous encounter with the Beatles — Conrad snaps a photo of Ruby and shares it online, seeking help from the internet in identifying this intriguing woman. This moment sets off a chain of events that will intertwine their fates.

Eventually, Conrad manages to locate Ruby after she has ceased her adventures in the TARDIS. He invites her onto his podcast, attempting to flirt and build a connection. A brief montage illustrates their blossoming romance as they date and grow closer. Conrad confesses he was present during his first encounter with the Shreek, prompting Ruby to gift him a vial of antidote as a precaution. She warns him that the Shreek, having previously marked him, is poised to return and hunt him down again. However, unbeknownst to them, UNIT — the Doctor’s military allies on Earth — have captured the creature, albeit off-screen.

The couple ventures to a quaint countryside village where Conrad introduces Ruby to his friends at a local pub. As night descends, strange occurrences unfold; the lights flicker ominously, and shadowy figures appear outside. When one of Conrad’s friends, Sparky, mysteriously vanishes, Ruby contacts UNIT, who spring into action despite the absence of any concrete evidence of a Shreek attack. In a moment of vulnerability, Conrad confesses to Ruby that he has not taken the antidote, wanting to prove his bravery in hopes of winning her affection.

Upon UNIT’s arrival, soldiers confront a pair of Shreek creatures, only to later reveal that they are merely Conrad’s friends donning rubber suits. This revelation casts a new light on Conrad’s character as he is not just an innocent bystander caught in a dire situation; rather, he is a conspiracy theorist and streamer who believes UNIT is a fraudulent organization. His penchant for manipulating footage to discredit his targets draws parallels to real-world figures, although I won’t mention names to avoid potential legal repercussions.

Conrad’s interaction with UNIT is broadcasted live, leading to a montage of social media reactions where people criticize the organization. Following his arrest, he is quickly released to a wave of public attention, with the British media, including a favorable report from BBC News, fawning over him. He even receives a humorous mention on the UK version of The Masked Singer and is comforted during an interview on The One Show by host Alex Jones, further solidifying his newfound fame.

Under public scrutiny, the UK government and UNIT’s overseers are compelled to place the organization under intense examination. Kate Lethbridge-Stewart, UNIT’s leader, articulates the potential global ramifications if any dictator were to acquire the alien technology captured by UNIT. Amid rising tensions, a senior official at UNIT orders the relocation of a real Shreek to a helipad for transit, while Conrad secretly enlists the help of an insider who has been radicalized into believing UNIT is a sham, facilitating his break-in to their headquarters.

Despite the chaos, Kate refuses to lock down the building, insisting on resolving the situation decisively. Armed with a stolen UNIT rifle, Conrad attempts to provoke Kate into a confrontation, maligning her legendary father, Brigadier Lethbridge-Stewart. Kate, relieved that the Doctor isn’t present to intervene, opens the cage holding the Shreek, releasing it to confront Conrad.

In a twist of fate, Conrad’s bravado crumbles when faced with real danger, and he begs for mercy. Nevertheless, Kate remains resolute, and in a tense moment, Shirley hands Ruby a taser, which she uses to neutralize the Shreek before it can attack Conrad. With his life spared, Conrad returns to his livestream persona, boasting about UNIT’s “special effects” improvements, only to have the Shreek regain consciousness and horrifically bite off his arm.

A sharp cut leads us to Conrad waking up in a prison cell, a contraption affixed to his arm, presumably to keep it attached. Suddenly, the familiar sound of the TARDIS fills the air, and he is brought aboard to face the Doctor, who delivers a harsh truth: Conrad is a bitter, sad individual destined to languish in prison. Unfazed, Conrad defiantly declares that he rejects the Doctor’s “reality.” After being returned to his cell, he is visited by Mrs. Flood, who confirms that what he witnessed was indeed real and that she is releasing him, proclaiming it’s his “lucky day.”

It appears I owe Pete McTighe a sincere apology, as “Lucky Day” seems to divert from the problematic themes presented in “Kerblam.” This episode serves as a commendable follow-up to “73 Yards,” showcasing that if Doctor Who is approaching a hiatus, it is leaving on a high note. It targets various societal issues, including the BBC’s tendency to rehabilitate unsavory characters. The moral complexities of right and wrong are clearly delineated, with Conrad navigating the same political landscape as Roger ap Gwillam, making subtle references to Albion TV.

Similar to many episodes this season, “Lucky Day” feels densely packed with content that may have been trimmed for time. However, despite some connective elements being absent, the underlying structure feels more cohesive, which benefits the storytelling. Kate’s choice to unleash the Shreek was foreshadowed; it’s a more satisfying resolution than a last-minute fix due to time constraints.

This episode cleverly plays to its strengths, acknowledging the genre-savvy audience. Those familiar with romantic comedy tropes will recognize that Conrad and Ruby’s dynamic serves as a distorted reflection of a typical girl-meets-boy storyline. We don’t need extensive evidence of Conrad’s villainy, as he openly disparages the Doctor, UNIT, and Kate to profit from his online following, establishing them firmly as the heroes of the narrative. Additionally, anyone who insults Brigadier Lethbridge-Stewart is likely to face consequences.

“Lucky Day” adeptly introduces us to Conrad, presenting clear warning signs early on. The adult Conrad is unashamedly invasive, snapping photos of strangers and sharing them online in hopes of identification. His inquiries into Ruby’s relationship with the Doctor carry a judgmental undertone reminiscent of Alan Budd’s flirtations with Belinda in “The Robot Revolution.” This episode serves as a compelling counterpoint, allowing us sufficient time to develop a wary impression of Conrad rather than relying on a weak third-act twist.

However, one critique is the episode’s reliance on the trope that survivors of abuse often perpetuate cycles of abuse. Conrad’s mother strikes him, implying a troubling pattern of behavior. While this moment alone doesn’t establish a narrative trend, it echoes themes seen in “Lux,” demonstrating the limitations of storytelling within a series focused on an immortal character traversing time and space.

The episode also emphasizes Ruby’s struggles after her time in the TARDIS, highlighting her vulnerable state. She admits that her adventures were fraught with constant peril, leaving her emotionally drained and isolated. The first man she attempts to build a relationship with turns out to be exploiting her vulnerabilities, a reality that will inevitably leave scars. The lasting effects of TARDIS travel on companions are seldom explored, as traditional companions from the classic series often lack depth, while modern characters typically transition into exciting new lives rather than returning to mundane existence.

Exploring Mrs. Flood’s Role in the Narrative

The series structure seems to be more than just a familiar rhythm established by Russell T. Davies; it appears to be a conscious choice. “Lucky Day” marks the fourth consecutive episode that shares themes and elements with last year’s corresponding installment. It will be intriguing to see how “The Story and the Engine,” and the upcoming “The Interstellar Song Contest” will resonate with their previous counterparts from the initial series.

It’s plausible that the time fracture introduced in “The Robot Revolution” has somehow derailed the series from its originally intended trajectory. Whether within the realm of fiction or the meta-narrative, it seems we are witnessing parallel iterations of previous episodes. Recall that in “The Robot Revolution,” the Doctor mentioned being instructed to meet Belinda by an unidentified individual. What if this leads him to follow Conrad’s trail, potentially creating a paradox, albeit one the TARDIS can navigate?

Additionally, Conrad’s declaration of rejecting the Doctor’s “reality” carries significant weight, especially with the upcoming two-part finale titled “Wish World” and “The Reality War.” This title, while vague, provides a hint of the narrative’s direction. Last season’s finale was titled “Empire of Death,” which was less cryptic than “The one in which it turns out Stuekh has been clinging to the TARDIS roof for God knows how long.”

While I hesitate to overanalyze Mrs. Flood’s decision to release Conrad, it could merely serve as a narrative device. She may be allowing him to escape to create further chaos, undermining UNIT and the Doctor’s efforts rather than having a specific agenda. Moreover, if Mrs. Flood is a dimension-hopping entity bent on the Doctor’s destruction, it’s unlikely she would have much use for a petty YouTuber.

This week, the BBC revealed that “The Reality War” will not receive its customary early online streaming. Instead, it will become available on iPlayer and Disney+ simultaneously with the UK broadcast, and both episodes are set for a limited cinema release. Such a strategy is typically reserved for significant event episodes, intensifying rumors that Gatwa may have exited the show. Additionally, his participation in the play Born With Teeth from August 13 to November 11 could hinder his ability to film a season for 2026.

Apart from the mystery elements, this season of Doctor Who seems to engage in a meta-discussion. “Lucky Day” echoes the premise of “Love and Monsters,” focusing on a Doctor-light narrative that centers on a seemingly ordinary individual intertwined with the Doctor’s adventures. Initially, Conrad is portrayed as a lost soul drawn to the Doctor, akin to a fan who lacks the charisma to capture the Time Lord’s attention.

I can’t help but question the reasoning behind naming Conrad’s streaming organization “Think Tank,” as it appears to be a nostalgic nod to 1974’s “Robot.” Yet, the dissimilarities between the two entities raise questions about their motivations and objectives, which seem to clash.