Got to rewatching VINCENT AND THE DOCTOR.
Mar. 29th, 2013 09:57 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ladyofleithianHow does it hold up? Well...honestly, it's amazing as ever. Sad, but amazing.
I admit that this episode has special value to me considering that I first watched it when I was in...well, a rather down place. A rather uncertain place. Just sort of one of those times when the future seemed to be in free-fall. Just...uncertain, really. And watching this episode -- well, I will say that it reduced me to a fit of Inelegant Blubbering near the end. Seriously, the fact I didn't wake up the parents with my crying is a miracle. My original review is here if you want to see.
Watching it with my mom and brother...well, it was a really great experience. I know stuff like my mom's initial confusion over pronouncing "Van Gogh" as "Van Goff" was a pretty great moment. It's really one of those moments where...well, there really isn't anything wrong with watching stuff alone, but there's something about watching them with company that's really fun. Didn't mean I didn't get close to crying, though (hell, even my mom was crying by the end!). I know, for example, the scene where Vincent is lying back with the Doctor and Amy in the grass, talking about the night sky and how beautiful it really is. The varying shades of blue, the stars...how the night isn't really characterless, but has a personality all its own. And it sort of fades briefly into a picture of the starry night before cutting back to Eleven and him saying that Van Gogh is right. It's just one of those moments where...well, you fall in love with the dialogue, and you fall in love with the performance. There's just so much passion and so much joy in Van Gogh's voice...
Not to mention earlier, when he talks about how difficult sunflowers are to paint, how they seem to be in a sort of fine line between the living and the dead. Made even more powerful when the funeral passes for the dead girl from the beginning, and there are sunflowers on her casket. And when he notices Amy's sadness about Rory, even though she doesn't really realize it. He notices how she's grieving over Rory, even though she doesn't realize it -- because Rory's been wiped from existence by the crack. And yet Vincent notices. That part always really strikes me. I think it's made worse after seeing "The Vampires of Venice", etc., because Amy...she genuinely loved Rory, more than anything, and he loved her. And just because she can't remember him, it doesn't mean that it's not still there. And it doesn't mean that it doesn't show.
I also love how they portrayed Vincent. I've always been fascinated by the man and his work (and my brother was a huge Van Gogh fanboy when he was younger), and they portrayed him beautifully -- this wonderful, unappreciated, talented man who also happens to be suffering from this terrible depression. I know the scene where he's just lying flat on his bed sobbing really got to me, because...I don't have depression myself (I have anxiety), but it's been how I've felt at times. These feelings of sadness so intense that I feel like I'm dying. Hell, a lot of what Van Gogh was experiencing hit uncomfortably close to home. I think it doesn't help that...while this morning was better than my previous moods, the past two days were just nothing but overcast feelings of gloom and hopelessness. And there are times when it feels almost impossible to be happy. Like I can't escape feeling so low. It doesn't help that...well, having to part ways with someone I once looked up to, for example, has been leaving me struggling with frustration and anger. Not to mention worry and...well, have you ever felt like running away from something because you were frustrated or angry or scared? That's how I've felt.
So yes...Van Gogh and Amy are definitely two characters I can identify with a bit too heavily for my own good. I also loved their interaction in the episode, and their saying goodbye was very sweet. (Although, considering what happens to Vincent, also heartwrenching) And Amy and Eleven interacting -- while it had its sad moments, considering the events of "The Hungry Earth/Cold Blood", it also had its funny moments, such as their first talk with Vincent (also loved Amy sticking up for him). And its sweet moments, such as the talk in the museum near the end. And seriously, I just love that line, about the good things and bad things. * Because the world isn't really that terrible in the end. True, there's a hell of a lot of bad things, but for every thing bound to break your heart, revolt you, make you angry, or even all three, there's something beautiful out there. Large and small, there's always hope out there. **
And the Krafayis...dear God, that poor Krafayis. ;.; It's horrifying, considering that it's an invisible killing creature, but at the same time, it's utterly pitiful because...well, it's blind and scared and lonely and stranded on Earth by its pack, and it's really after Vincent stabs it with his easel to protect the Doctor and Amy (and even he expresses remorse over the incident, saying he never wanted to harm the creature) that...well, it's lying there dying, making perhaps the saddest sounds you could ever hear that...it says it's afraid. And Eleven, even though he can't see the creature, just pets and comforts it, telling it that it's going to be okay. That part never fails to get to me. (Also, this may sound bizarre, but the Krafayis is oddly adorable in appearance. Scary, but adorable) Because in the end, it wasn't seeking world domination or whatnot. It was just scared. And the Doctor and co.'s sadness for it. It's really one of those things that generally, isn't done enough in fiction. Violence and vengeance? That's easy. Compassion? That's harder.
I also loved the bits of humor, like the cat fleeing when the TARDIS first materializes in Van Gogh's town, the Doctor finding people have, um, decorated the TARDIS exterior with newspapers...things like that. It was just those little touches that...well, they were very cute. And Vincent seeing the inside of the TARDIS. And on a more poignant note, Vincent's Tears of Joy when the Doctor takes him into the future to see his paintings being preserved. That...that was just a beautiful scene. Honestly, this episode as a whole...just one of the most beautiful episodes on the show, and that says something.
* And I admit that I actually sort of list the good things that happen to me when I can (elsewhere, not here). It can range from the little things, such as spending time with my family, to the big things. And the things in between, such as managing to have a writing breakthrough (especially if I've been in a right spot). I guess it helps considering...while I try to be an idealist, there's always a part of me willing to give up in despair. It's not just a matter of tracking the things that go right, but simply, honestly, not forgetting, like Amy trying to remember Rory in "Cold Blood". It's such a sad practice, yet it's true. I need something or someone to believe in. Someone to have faith in. Giving up, forgetting the good in the world...there is something that's probably one of my worst fears.
** And it doesn't have to be a grand gesture even. It can be anything, even just a message from someone else saying that no, it's not that bad, and you're not as alone as you might think, and there are people who care about you. Someone just generally checking in to make sure you're okay.
So overall? Amazing episode. Heavily recommended.
I admit that this episode has special value to me considering that I first watched it when I was in...well, a rather down place. A rather uncertain place. Just sort of one of those times when the future seemed to be in free-fall. Just...uncertain, really. And watching this episode -- well, I will say that it reduced me to a fit of Inelegant Blubbering near the end. Seriously, the fact I didn't wake up the parents with my crying is a miracle. My original review is here if you want to see.
Watching it with my mom and brother...well, it was a really great experience. I know stuff like my mom's initial confusion over pronouncing "Van Gogh" as "Van Goff" was a pretty great moment. It's really one of those moments where...well, there really isn't anything wrong with watching stuff alone, but there's something about watching them with company that's really fun. Didn't mean I didn't get close to crying, though (hell, even my mom was crying by the end!). I know, for example, the scene where Vincent is lying back with the Doctor and Amy in the grass, talking about the night sky and how beautiful it really is. The varying shades of blue, the stars...how the night isn't really characterless, but has a personality all its own. And it sort of fades briefly into a picture of the starry night before cutting back to Eleven and him saying that Van Gogh is right. It's just one of those moments where...well, you fall in love with the dialogue, and you fall in love with the performance. There's just so much passion and so much joy in Van Gogh's voice...
Not to mention earlier, when he talks about how difficult sunflowers are to paint, how they seem to be in a sort of fine line between the living and the dead. Made even more powerful when the funeral passes for the dead girl from the beginning, and there are sunflowers on her casket. And when he notices Amy's sadness about Rory, even though she doesn't really realize it. He notices how she's grieving over Rory, even though she doesn't realize it -- because Rory's been wiped from existence by the crack. And yet Vincent notices. That part always really strikes me. I think it's made worse after seeing "The Vampires of Venice", etc., because Amy...she genuinely loved Rory, more than anything, and he loved her. And just because she can't remember him, it doesn't mean that it's not still there. And it doesn't mean that it doesn't show.
I also love how they portrayed Vincent. I've always been fascinated by the man and his work (and my brother was a huge Van Gogh fanboy when he was younger), and they portrayed him beautifully -- this wonderful, unappreciated, talented man who also happens to be suffering from this terrible depression. I know the scene where he's just lying flat on his bed sobbing really got to me, because...I don't have depression myself (I have anxiety), but it's been how I've felt at times. These feelings of sadness so intense that I feel like I'm dying. Hell, a lot of what Van Gogh was experiencing hit uncomfortably close to home. I think it doesn't help that...while this morning was better than my previous moods, the past two days were just nothing but overcast feelings of gloom and hopelessness. And there are times when it feels almost impossible to be happy. Like I can't escape feeling so low. It doesn't help that...well, having to part ways with someone I once looked up to, for example, has been leaving me struggling with frustration and anger. Not to mention worry and...well, have you ever felt like running away from something because you were frustrated or angry or scared? That's how I've felt.
So yes...Van Gogh and Amy are definitely two characters I can identify with a bit too heavily for my own good. I also loved their interaction in the episode, and their saying goodbye was very sweet. (Although, considering what happens to Vincent, also heartwrenching) And Amy and Eleven interacting -- while it had its sad moments, considering the events of "The Hungry Earth/Cold Blood", it also had its funny moments, such as their first talk with Vincent (also loved Amy sticking up for him). And its sweet moments, such as the talk in the museum near the end. And seriously, I just love that line, about the good things and bad things. * Because the world isn't really that terrible in the end. True, there's a hell of a lot of bad things, but for every thing bound to break your heart, revolt you, make you angry, or even all three, there's something beautiful out there. Large and small, there's always hope out there. **
And the Krafayis...dear God, that poor Krafayis. ;.; It's horrifying, considering that it's an invisible killing creature, but at the same time, it's utterly pitiful because...well, it's blind and scared and lonely and stranded on Earth by its pack, and it's really after Vincent stabs it with his easel to protect the Doctor and Amy (and even he expresses remorse over the incident, saying he never wanted to harm the creature) that...well, it's lying there dying, making perhaps the saddest sounds you could ever hear that...it says it's afraid. And Eleven, even though he can't see the creature, just pets and comforts it, telling it that it's going to be okay. That part never fails to get to me. (Also, this may sound bizarre, but the Krafayis is oddly adorable in appearance. Scary, but adorable) Because in the end, it wasn't seeking world domination or whatnot. It was just scared. And the Doctor and co.'s sadness for it. It's really one of those things that generally, isn't done enough in fiction. Violence and vengeance? That's easy. Compassion? That's harder.
I also loved the bits of humor, like the cat fleeing when the TARDIS first materializes in Van Gogh's town, the Doctor finding people have, um, decorated the TARDIS exterior with newspapers...things like that. It was just those little touches that...well, they were very cute. And Vincent seeing the inside of the TARDIS. And on a more poignant note, Vincent's Tears of Joy when the Doctor takes him into the future to see his paintings being preserved. That...that was just a beautiful scene. Honestly, this episode as a whole...just one of the most beautiful episodes on the show, and that says something.
* And I admit that I actually sort of list the good things that happen to me when I can (elsewhere, not here). It can range from the little things, such as spending time with my family, to the big things. And the things in between, such as managing to have a writing breakthrough (especially if I've been in a right spot). I guess it helps considering...while I try to be an idealist, there's always a part of me willing to give up in despair. It's not just a matter of tracking the things that go right, but simply, honestly, not forgetting, like Amy trying to remember Rory in "Cold Blood". It's such a sad practice, yet it's true. I need something or someone to believe in. Someone to have faith in. Giving up, forgetting the good in the world...there is something that's probably one of my worst fears.
** And it doesn't have to be a grand gesture even. It can be anything, even just a message from someone else saying that no, it's not that bad, and you're not as alone as you might think, and there are people who care about you. Someone just generally checking in to make sure you're okay.
So overall? Amazing episode. Heavily recommended.
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no subject
Date: 2013-03-30 02:13 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2013-03-30 02:13 am (UTC)And oh God, when he gets to see and hear the impact his work has made - CUE THE TEARS EVERY TIME. So many artists have died never knowing the impression they've made on the world, and I oddly like the fact hearing that information didn't take away from his illness because it was an illness and not something curable with a little happiness like so many people think would fix his problem. It's just a beautifully tragic episode all around.
no subject
Date: 2013-03-30 02:15 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2013-03-30 02:19 am (UTC)I don't get it at all myself, but there is no accounting for taste.
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Date: 2013-03-30 02:28 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2013-03-30 02:31 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2013-03-30 11:28 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2013-03-30 12:46 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2013-03-30 04:50 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2013-03-30 04:51 pm (UTC)