The Fourteenth Time (Give or Take)

Here he is, the hope for the future, the Fourteenth Doctor himself, Ncuti Gatwa. He will be the Doctor for showrunner Russell T Davies' return to Doctor Who next year after making his first appearance in the regeneration special later this year. The official announcement came yesterday. I hadn't seen anything he was in so I watched the first episode of Sex Education, his best known role, a Netflix teen comedy series.

I found the show itself a little tedious. Its humour is a blend of 70% Sixteen Candles and 30% Buffy the Vampire Slayer. But more than either of those, it's one of those works of fiction that assumes anything sexual is inherently fascinating and/or funny. But Gatwa is really good in it. I see from Wikipedia he was lauded for not simply playing the stereotypical "gay best friend" and yet that's exactly what he seems to be playing in the first episode, being best friend of lead Asa Butterfield, sassily giving Butterfield the straight dope about his sexual hangups. It's exactly how that stock character functions. But Gatwa's performance shows creativity, sensitivity, and a good instinct for comedic timing. He comes off much better in Sex Education than Jodie Whittaker did in Broadchurch, and I thought she was fine in that.

He seems physically very small. I wonder if he's the smallest person to play the Doctor. Troughton and McCoy were both pretty short but Gatwa seems short and slender. It's cute. I wonder if they'll be going for the sort of Chaplin-esque vibe of Two or Seven. He may need a Harry Sullivan or Ian Chesterton to do the fistfights for him. In any case, he's another reason us Doctor Who fans are already mentally living in 2023.

Twitter Sonnet #1579

A splintered trap contracts the crimson cape.
Another nod was notched beside the tube.
Erased beginnings stunt the aging tape.
A bulbous sphere could break the tiny cube.
The mountain's choc'late flowed as pure as God.
Confessions bounced behind the broken bank.
The even hooves resent the horse's odd.
The breathless shells would swim in any tank.
A television blur denies a spot.
The colour code denotes a violent box.
A marching three deny a second thought.
Predictions slump and eat the lazy locks.
Another face ascends the person's skull.
Another box becomes the vessel's hull.