David Bridges
Warning: Spoilers Ahead for “Lux.”
In today’s landscape of streaming television, it’s a captivating era for long-standing science fiction and fantasy franchises. Star Trek grapples with an identity crisis, mistakenly believing it’s too outdated to resonate with modern audiences. Meanwhile, Star Wars has become a contentious battleground in cultural debates, leading to the controversial release of The Rise of Skywalker to preempt further criticism. In contrast, Doctor Who continues to thrive, celebrating a remarkable 62-year legacy while consistently introducing innovative ideas. Doubt it? Just this week, the Doctor and his companion Belinda faced off against a sentient cartoon that has taken cinema-goers hostage in a 1950s theater.
Set in the year 1952, we find ourselves in a nearly empty cinema where the audience is transfixed by an intense newsreel highlighting the destructive capabilities of the atomic bomb. The projectionist quickly switches to a Merrie Melodies-style cartoon featuring Mr. Ring-A-Ding, a charismatic character voiced by Alan Cumming. Suddenly, a shaft of moonlight pierces through the window, reflecting off a spoon and illuminating the screen. To the astonishment of the audience, Mr. Ring-A-Ding springs to life, addressing the skeptical viewers before bursting forth into the theater, inciting panic and screams.
Meanwhile, the Doctor and Belinda are trapped inside the TARDIS, baffled by its refusal to land on the date of May 24, 2025. Belinda questions why they can’t return to his home planet for repairs. Instead of a clear answer, the Doctor reveals a device he’s built to help navigate them back to the present, although it requires several detours before they can reach their intended time. Their journey takes an unexpected turn as they arrive in Miami, 1952. The Doctor initially insists that Belinda stay inside the TARDIS, but her curiosity about the world outside compels her to venture into the vibrant city.
Stepping out into the Miami night, they find themselves outside the very cinema from the pre-credits sequence, although it has been three months since Mr. Ring-A-Ding animated. The theater remains sealed, and the 15 audience members who attended that fateful night have mysteriously disappeared. The projectionist, Reginald Pye, remains behind as the caretaker, continuing to screen films to an empty auditorium.
Seeking answers, they visit a nearby diner where they encounter Mrs. Lowenstein, the mother of one of the missing patrons. She provides crucial background information about the strange occurrences at the cinema. Upon entering the cinema, they learn that Mr. Ring-A-Ding intends to ensnare them within a film. While he’s distracted by a short featuring his character, the Doctor and Belinda make a dash to the projection room where they find Pye, who reveals that he’s been safeguarding the patrons, all trapped within a strip of film.
Pye has been keeping Mr. Ring-A-Ding satisfied by screening movies for him nightly. However, the sinister cartoon has also granted Pye a troubling gift: a film of his deceased wife, which Mr. Ring-A-Ding can temporarily bring back as a “real” person each night. This dynamic follows the coercive theme explored in the previous episode, where Mr. Ring-A-Ding’s kindness is laced with manipulation, as he threatens to destroy Pye’s precious film if he dares to defy him.
It becomes evident that Mr. Ring-A-Ding is far more than just a charming cartoon character; he embodies the essence of a god, akin to figures like the Toymaker, Maestro, and Sutekh. His true name is Lux Imperator, or Lord of Light, and he seeks to consume every bit of light available, with the ultimate prize being the atomic bomb, which he has learned about through the newsreels. To thwart the Doctor and Belinda’s efforts to derail his plans, he ensnares them within the confines of a cartoon.
Transformed into two-dimensional figures, the Doctor and Belinda find themselves with simplified minds and personalities. In their moment of panic, they voice their fears, including the Doctor’s dread of failing to return Belinda home. As they express their vulnerabilities, their characters gain depth, allowing them to revert back to their true forms, inadvertently breaking the fourth wall into a living room belonging to some unsuspecting viewers.
Surprised, the Doctor and Belinda encounter a trio of Doctor Who fans who are astonished and thrilled to meet their beloved characters. The fans, Hassan Chowdry (Samir Arrian), Lizzie Abel (Bronté Barbé), and Robyn Gossage (Steph Lacey), excitedly explain the show to the Doctor. This scene cleverly continues the season’s underlying theme of envy towards Steven Moffat’s storytelling style, as the trio shares that their favorite episode is “Blink.” Robyn also points out that the episode’s conclusion is somewhat predictable, considering that celluloid is highly combustible. The fans even acknowledge their own annoying tendencies—a trait that many self-aware fans of Doctor Who can relate to.
As the trio prepares to usher the Doctor out as the episode approaches the 30-minute mark, a realization dawns upon them: they are the fictional characters, lacking surnames, which signifies their status as minor roles destined to fade away when the time travelers return to their own reality. This raises interesting questions about narrative significance, as referenced in Davies’ recent column for Doctor Who Magazine, where he discusses the complexities of naming even minor characters for credits.
Upon returning to the cinema, the previously amiable Mrs. Lowenstein has brought a police officer to apprehend the Doctor and Belinda for trespassing in a cinema designated for whites. The Doctor quickly calls out the absurdity of the situation, particularly noting that the officer’s uniform resembles one from New York, indicating they’re still within the film’s universe. Breaking free, they confront Lux / Mr. Ring-A-Ding once more. Lux conjures long strips of film that act like bindings, wrapping around his arms and raising him high. He activates the projector, extracting the Doctor’s regeneration energy as light, projecting it onto Mr. Ring-A-Ding.
Meanwhile, Belinda heads to a storage closet, retrieves numerous film reels, and spreads them across the floor. However, Reginald, the projectionist, refuses to hand over matches until the ghost of his wife, briefly appearing as a corporeal entity, provides them. With the matches in hand, Belinda ignites the film, creating a massive hole in the cinema’s roof that exposes Mr. Ring-A-Ding to sunlight. The exposure causes him to grow exponentially, ballooning to a size that eclipses not just the planet but the entire universe, or something to that effect.
As daylight breaks over Miami, Belinda inquires how exactly Lux / Mr. Ring-A-Ding was vanquished. The Doctor responds, “We’re 60 percent water, yet we can still drown,” as the previously imprisoned cinema patrons emerge from their three-month ordeal. The adventure has deepened the bond between the Doctor and Belinda, who now feels far more at ease with her longer journey home. As they prepare to enter the TARDIS, Mrs. Flood addresses the crowd, encouraging them to witness the spectacular sight of the ship’s departure. She laments that it’s a “limited run,” set to conclude on May 24th.
In-Depth Analysis: Eight Key Takeaways from “Lux.”
Thematic Richness
Much like its predecessor “The Robot Revolution,” “Lux” is brimming with multifaceted concepts and themes that could easily serve as the foundation for an entire narrative. This thematic richness has long been a hallmark of Doctor Who, a series that has unflinchingly showcased its profound political and literary aspirations. However, this ambition can be both a blessing and a challenge.
The sheer volume of ideas interwoven into a single episode is staggering, addressing topics such as:
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The implications of time travel as a narrative device through the lens of race.
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How our media consumption habits have evolved over the last century.
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The constancy of human nature over the past hundred years.
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The psychological struggle of being held captive by one’s own desires.
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The existential question of what it would mean for a fictional character to realize they are, in fact, fictional.
That’s an overwhelming amount of content to tackle in just 45 minutes, even if these themes aren’t fully explored. While it may be an exhilarating high-wire act that Davies is attempting, the end result often lacks significant substance. I don’t expect every episode to delve deeply into heavy themes, yet it’s crucial to recognize that these ideas shouldn’t merely serve as decorative elements.
Ironically, I found “Lux” to be considerably more enjoyable than “The Robot Revolution.” Free from the narrative weight of introducing Belinda and establishing the overarching plot for the season, this episode can focus on its unique identity. Here, every element feels cohesively connected, and while the emotional arcs may feel rushed, they still maintain a level of coherence.
Echoes of History
When Ncuti Gatwa was lifted by the moving filmstrips, I immediately noted the striking resemblance to the conclusion of “The Devil’s Chord.” This parallel is unsurprising, given that both episodes feature the Doctor contending with a member of the pantheon of rogue gods. Our protagonists arrive in what could be described as the recent past—last year’s ‘60s and this week’s ‘50s—to battle a deity utilizing pop culture as a medium (music in one instance, cinema in the other). For the filmstrips in this episode, the Maestro previously maneuvered the Doctor and Ruby through Abbey Road using ribbons of musical notation.
Fan Acknowledgment
In the rare moments Doctor Who acknowledges its devoted fanbase, it does so with a playful nudge, recognizing the shared cultural heritage that makes everyone a fan, even those who may not consider themselves “hardcore.” Importantly, showrunners like Davies, Moffat, and Chibnall were all fervent fans before embarking on their careers in television. We can all admit that we can be somewhat irritating or insufferably smug at times.
One observation struck me: every time Doctor Who references its fanbase—whether it’s Whizzkid in “Greatest Show,” the members of LINDA in “Love and Monsters,” or this episode’s trio—the themes remain consistent. Doctor Who fans are often portrayed as well-meaning, albeit a little annoying, and they tend to be exploited by a malevolent figure (like Captain Cook, Victor Kennedy, and Lux). Isn’t that an intriguing observation?
Character Significance
A defining characteristic of Ncuti Gatwa’s portrayal of the Doctor is his deep compassion, illustrated even in small gestures like kissing a Roomba to apologize for turning it off. When Hassan, Lizzie, and Robyn express that they feel “unimportant” due to their lack of surnames, it was disappointing that the Doctor didn’t challenge that notion.
Production Values
Similar to last week’s episode, “Lux” is masterfully crafted, with every segment of the production team performing at their absolute best. The character of Mr. Ring-A-Ding is a triumph, perfectly capturing the vintage rubber hose animation style of that era. The 2D representation is delightful, while the 3D transformation he attempts at the end is appropriately unsettling.
Belinda’s Journey
Following “The Robot Revolution,” numerous fans speculated that Belinda was more aware than she let on, particularly noting her knowledge of the TARDIS name despite the Doctor referring to it simply as his spaceship earlier in the episode. At the outset of “Lux,” Belinda asserts that the Doctor is a Time Lord, suggesting that his people should possess the means to repair the malfunctioning TARDIS.
I understand why fans, accustomed to mystery-heavy narratives, would scrutinize dialogue for hidden meanings. However, I believe they might be chasing shadows: Davies has never been one to employ such subtlety and likely won’t start embedding clues in his dialogue. My interpretation is that the Doctor has likely become accustomed to providing new companions with a basic (off-screen) introduction to the TARDIS.
It’s easy to picture a scene that was cut for time, where the Doctor explains, in a simplified manner, the concept of being a Time Lord and traveling through time and space. You’d expect him to avoid delving into the more traumatic aspects of their history, such as being the last of his kind. Belinda’s surprise at landing in 1950s Miami, after having seen the TARDIS in space just the previous week, aligns with the theme of her gradually coming to terms with her adventures alongside the Doctor.
That said, it’s telling that Davies specifically focused on the significance of surnames for minor characters in his column for this month’s Doctor Who Magazine. He wrapped a tease for an upcoming episode within an anecdote about the legalities of character names. When the Doctor interacts with the fans, Robyn points out her knowledge of the episode’s ending due to a leak she encountered online. I must confess that I too read a detailed leak regarding this episode, which included insights about this fourth-wall-breaking scene. While I wouldn’t suggest Davies is playing a complex game with the audience, if the leak originated from the production office as part of a metafictional twist, then my hat is off to them.
The cinema’s awning advertises a Rock Hudson film, prompting Belinda to mention learning about the late actor during an HIV training course. Hudson was one of the first celebrities to succumb to AIDS, significantly shifting public perceptions surrounding the disease. Prior to Hudson’s passing, the U.S. had been reluctant to allocate funds for AIDS research.
Doctor Who has historically been hesitant to confront societal issues directly or even through allegory. Despite the myriad of queer individuals involved in its creation, such topics were often considered taboo. The show’s willingness to reference Hudson directly feels refreshing and may encourage some viewers to explore the subject further.
Addressing Racial Politics
There are more qualified voices available to discuss the racial themes within this episode. Set in 1952, just two years prior to Brown v. Board of Education, the Miami depicted is a racially segregated city. This isn’t the first episode of Doctor Who to tackle these issues, nor is it the first in Ncuti Gatwa’s run that emphasizes the significance of the Doctor being portrayed by an actor of color.
One moment that is likely to spark discussion occurs when Belinda expresses her outrage at discovering the diner’s segregation policies. The Doctor dismisses her objections, stating that he has toppled worlds and sometimes allows other worlds to “topple themselves.” In this context, he suggests that his role is to “shut up and shine,” indicating a preference for a more passive approach to respectability politics.
This may highlight the limitations of the narratives Doctor Who can explore, given that these events are rooted in our own recent history. While the Doctor can intervene in other timelines, the realities of human history constrain him from eradicating these injustices. This reinforces the notion that the show may inherently lean toward conservatism, as one of the Doctor’s primary motivations is to preserve the current trajectory of history.
Mrs. Flood’s Ominous Presence
Now that we know Mrs. Flood can manifest wherever the TARDIS travels, it’s reasonable to expect her to appear in every episode, similar to how Susan Twist did last season. Here, she ominously reiterates her warning that the Doctor’s time is dwindling, a fate set to unfold on May 24th. This date marks the airing of this season’s seventh and penultimate episode.
