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Post by Queen E on Jun 10, 2010 19:15:15 GMT -5
Hmm. Can't wait to watch this one...
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Post by Matthew on Jun 10, 2010 20:00:02 GMT -5
Thank you, Erin!
When I saw this, I was afraid that they were gonna soft-peddle Van Gogh's depression and (alleged) schizophrenia issues.
My goodness,was I wrong!
And the bit at the end, brought tears to my eyes, wishing that Vincent Van Gogh actually COULD have the joy of knowing how well-regarded he is now, so many years later. Even more intense than when I hear McClean's "Vincent" song.
Such a beautiful, moving episode. And oh,poor Amy, poor poor Amy!!
I do wonder what happens to turn a Pond into a River. For I am sure she's an early incarnation of the woman Alex Kingston plays.
That is, if this season isn't all in someone's head.
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Post by Riff on Jun 11, 2010 10:45:50 GMT -5
Thank you, Erin! When I saw this, I was afraid that they were gonna soft-peddle Van Gogh's depression and (alleged) schizophrenia issues. My goodness,was I wrong! And the bit at the end, brought tears to my eyes, wishing that Vincent Van Gogh actually COULD have the joy of knowing how well-regarded he is now, so many years later. Even more intense than when I hear McClean's "Vincent" song. Such a beautiful, moving episode. And oh,poor Amy, poor poor Amy!! I do wonder what happens to turn a Pond into a River. For I am sure she's an early incarnation of the woman Alex Kingston plays. That is, if this season isn't all in someone's head. So much emotion in this episode, but especially in those last two scenes in the Musée d'Orsay. Brighter than sunflowers. I'll be more detailed when I post a review, but here I'll say that they are suggesting Vincent's bipolar depression is of the severest kind (i.e. there are psychotic symptoms - hallucinations and altered perception). The idea is that his illness is what allows him to see the creature. From a metaphorical perspective, the creature is Van Gogh's depression, like the invisible "black dog" that fellow depressive Churchill was plagued by (*sigh* the season really missed a trick, there). The metaphor is deliberate, I'm sure: a blind monster that only the sufferer can see and combat, but that invisibly lashes out at those around it. And, of course, the Doctor tries to neutralise it by finding the correct "prozactic" setting on the sonic screwdriver. There are other elements, like Amy crying without knowing why. I suspect there's something going on with water metaphors. What about Jackson Lake? And Adelaide Brooke with the Flood? There was definitely some behind-the-scenes collaboration between RTD and Moffat on the Specials (LOL, as I keep saying). The Amy into River thing doesn't quite... wash with me though. ;D Also, I have a feeling that this season is somehow both dream/memory/fairytale and reality. The shopping list for things to be resolved in the finale is becoming ridiculous!
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Post by Riff on Jun 17, 2010 19:33:47 GMT -5
"Sometimes moods of indescribable anguish, sometimes moments when the veil of time and fatality of circumstances seemed to be torn apart for an instant."
Vincent Van Gogh, 1889
The Doctor takes Amy to the Musée d'Orsay to see an exhibition by a favourite artist, Vincent Van Gogh. In one picture, The Church at Auvers, he glimpses a face that he is certain is “evil” and the two go off in the TARDIS to search for the painter, because this is “a matter of life and death”.
So good, so monster of the week. Except that it is not so simple. Amy should be submerged under grief. Thanks to the episode Amy’s Choice, we know her true feelings about Rory. Her love, her fiancé, the man with whom she should have spent a happy life is dead, has never existed. But she’s bouncing around as if Amelia is still in charge, perplexed at the Doctor being so nice to her, because she doesn’t remember anything about Rory.
The quote from one of Van Gogh’s letters which begins this post is reflected to some extent in the episode. While it doesn’t focus completely on severe bipolar disorder, neither does it shy away from letting us know that this man was very ill, even to the point of psychotic symptoms. We see his mania as he tries to explain the powerful synaesthesia and perception of nature’s mystery that he experiences; we see him curled up in a ball and weeping, unable to face the world.
Yet it is the Krafayis that reveals much about him. The creature is invisible, but for a reason that is never explained, Vincent can see it clearly. Although it is not spelt out we probably have to assume that his illness gives him a special perception of reality (the source, also, of his art). The Krafayis is blind and lashes out at those around it, while only the sufferer, Vincent himself, can see and fight it. That is at a literal level. At a metaphorical level, the Krafayis is Vincent’s illness, a theme quietly confirmed when the Doctor attempts to neutralise it by finding the correct “prozactic” setting on the sonic screwdriver. That Vincent himself ultimately defeats it by impaling it on his easel, on his art, is fitting. Yet the “monster” is actually innocent of the harm it causes to others. And we know, unfortunately, that this act will not save Vincent: “Doctor, my friend, we have fought monsters together and we have won. By myself, I fear I will not do as well.”
Amy’s relationship with the painter is the central interaction of the episode. In a far more carefully drawn way than we saw with Bracewell in Victory of the Daleks, she uses flirtation to nurture him. He in turn is able to perceive the grief that should not even exist in her: “I can hear the song of your sadness.” Amy cries without knowing why, an experience common to depressives.
The Doctor has to deal with them both. He develops an understanding of Vincent's condition, saying "And, to be honest, I'm not sure about 'mad', either. It seems to me depression is a very complex-" before Vincent cuts him off. The Doctor has a sense of how temporal events will run and knows that they either cannot or must not prevent Vincent’s suicide. That would not have been an acceptable outcome for the episode, anyway. Within the fictional world of the show it would have had massive historical repercussions, probably, but more to the point it would have been an insult to the man’s memory. So the Doctor gives Vincent what he can, showing him that one day his art will be celebrated. Vincent still dies, though, because depression is not ordinary sadness and cannot be “cured” in the way that ordinary sadness can be. When Amy is crushed by the news that Vincent has killed himself after all, the Doctor’s speech about piles of good and bad things in every life, and his obvious affection for her, shows us that he really does have two hearts.
It would seem out of place for the season arc (whatever it is) to be present in this story, but there are a couple of issues I’d like to raise, because good authority has stated that all elements in this season add up to the finale, this episode included. The episode begins very appropriately with a shot of the cornfields of Provence, so loved by Van Gogh. Vincent is painting and sees movement through the corn - the Krafayis? But at the start of the episode we hear that this is one of his last paintings (and at the end that it is his last painting - a continuity error or a rewriting of time?). The Krafayis should have been killed by the time he painted this (unless this is before time has been rewritten). There is no sign of the Krafayis or of corn being disturbed by it in this painting. Also, this is now the third time this season we have seen an image of First Doctor William Hartnell in an episode. It may simply be Moffat continually driving home his insistence that the Eleventh Doctor is exactly the same man as the First and all the others, merely a new body (and indeed we see the second Doctor, too - an image immediately followed by Matt Smith running bandy-legged for all the world like Patrick Troughton), but there may be an actual plot point to all this.
I don’t believe that stories are ever unimportant things, and this one was judged to have enough power for the telephone number of a helpline to be read over the end credits. The issues it explores relating to Vincent’s illness are important, not least because the show is, in the UK at least, targeted at a childhood audience. The massive viewing figures make it very likely that there will have been children watching who have someone behaving in manic and depressed ways in their own household or immediate environment, behaviour that they may not understand. That, and the fact that the episode views the sufferer of such problems sympathetically means that this one really ticks all the boxes of public-service broadcasting: to educate, to inform, and to entertain. Another important feature is the suggestion that people with difficulties like Vincent’s may be able to sublimate these into something less negative, such as creativity. Which brings me to my last point.
We grow to love the character of Vincent during the episode. We feel for his suffering and rejoice in the way he can see the world, visually presented to us when a night sky becomes the artist’s painting Starry Night before our eyes. We share his joy in the Musée d'Orsay. The death of this man, a death dealt by his own hand because he was so unhappy, should be a terrible tragedy for the viewer, and yet the episode somehow spins the events into something positive and actually becomes life-affirming. This reflects Dr. Black’s speech about Van Gogh when he says, “He transformed the pain of his tormented life into ecstatic beauty.”
“Brighter than sunflowers.”
Amy Pond, 2010
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Post by beccaelizabeth on Jun 19, 2010 5:28:28 GMT -5
no, because if we assume that I have to hate it.
His special perception of reality, and his art, are his way of *fighting back against* his illness.
The illness is the raging damaging thing, not a gift, and even the monster that was at first in the painting has no part in his art by the end of the episode.
His art is what defeats the monster (the pointy ends of a tool for keeping his art stable).
Art and perception are his gift, his illness is just his illness.
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Post by beccaelizabeth on Jun 19, 2010 5:33:50 GMT -5
“prozactic” setting on rewatch my ears agree with you but the subtitles say crosactic
reading plus hearing leads to different hearings than just hearing without the words on so now I don't know which one I think he said
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Post by Riff on Jun 19, 2010 8:19:38 GMT -5
no, because if we assume that I have to hate it. His special perception of reality, and his art, are his way of *fighting back against* his illness. The illness is the raging damaging thing, not a gift, and even the monster that was at first in the painting has no part in his art by the end of the episode. His art is what defeats the monster (the pointy ends of a tool for keeping his art stable). Art and perception are his gift, his illness is just his illness. Yes, I've been an idiot and missed the point there. It was something that niggled at me because it didn't seem to fit with the rest of my review. You're correct, because the Krayfayis is blind, contrasting with Vincent's vision. So obviously it must be seen as what his art fights against. I think I may have made this mistake because I went into the episode with some knowledge of Van Gogh. My father admired him a great deal. (I had to laugh when Vincent said, "I can't believe one of the haystacks was in the museum. How embarrassing," because they were dad's favourites!). I confused the character Vincent with the historical Van Gogh, whose creativity was associated with his emotional diffiulties, I think.
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Post by Anne, Old S'cubie Cat on Jun 26, 2010 22:58:10 GMT -5
Oh, that was lovely. Sweet and funny and sad, all at once. I got all teary when Vincent remarked on Amy's sadness. She's crying inside, and isn't even aware. Blind to her own grief, as it were.
I loved that the Doctor took Vincent not only into the TARDIS, but into the future, to see how wonderful he and his art really are (yes, I'm biased in that regard).
By an odd coincidence, my "Starry Night" poster is on the wall over the bookcases behind the TV, so it was kind of background to the episode.
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Post by Rachael on Jun 27, 2010 18:17:38 GMT -5
It's what I've always wanted. Someone to SHOW Van Gogh that his art was beloved. I'm never quite so sad as when I'm hearing one of those "and he never knew how much the world loved his art" stories.
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Post by Lola m on Jun 27, 2010 20:45:13 GMT -5
Musée d'Orsay! My fave! And this is gonna be a “meet the historical figure and they get all involved in time travel and/or aliens” isn’t it? Vincent! Ah. He’s being so nice to her. Now, I wonder why he’s feeling that way. Hmmmm. What ever could it be? [/sarcasm] “Nice bow tie. Keep telling them stuff.” Heee!! Also the whole “got any churchy, chapel, religiousy plans soon eh, Vincent, eh” conversation was Fun-ee! ;D And then, of course, there’s a body in the alley. This is a rather believable Vincent. And a nice riff on the theory of artists who can see things we can’t – an extension of “visual anomalies explain some artistic choices”. “This would never happen with Gainsborough.” HA! Love the wacky rear-view mirror visual translation thingee. It’s a giant killer alien lizard-snake-chickenhead thing! With sideburns! And a Mohawk! The classic “are we changing the future” dilemma. I’m glad that they’re no just making Vincent “wacky/zany”, but rather a guy with real problems. And his connection with “I didn’t know I was crying” Amy is a lovely touch. “Is this how time normally passes? Really slowly ...” Heeeee! The Doctor may like humans a lot but he’d make a very bad “normal” human. One simple instruction, always ignored. ;D “It was frightened and lashed out.” Like humans. Theme, people, theme! Ah, the things Vincent sees. Heeee! They postered over the TARDIS! Ha! Oh, when the art guy is talking and Vincent is listening and the Doctor is all “is it too much?” and no they’re tears of joy – so lovely! And yet, this won’t change the future for him, will it? “Time can be re-written.” She’s so sure and the Doctor knows that this one won’t be. Every life is a pile of good things and bad things.
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Post by Lola m on Jun 27, 2010 20:47:19 GMT -5
Thank you, Erin! When I saw this, I was afraid that they were gonna soft-peddle Van Gogh's depression and (alleged) schizophrenia issues. My goodness,was I wrong! **nods nods nods** Ohhhhhhhhh, what a lovely bit of phrasing. I have no idea if you are right, but it's a pretty thought. ;D
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Post by Lola m on Jun 27, 2010 20:48:55 GMT -5
Thank you, Erin! When I saw this, I was afraid that they were gonna soft-peddle Van Gogh's depression and (alleged) schizophrenia issues. My goodness,was I wrong! And the bit at the end, brought tears to my eyes, wishing that Vincent Van Gogh actually COULD have the joy of knowing how well-regarded he is now, so many years later. Even more intense than when I hear McClean's "Vincent" song. Such a beautiful, moving episode. And oh,poor Amy, poor poor Amy!! I do wonder what happens to turn a Pond into a River. For I am sure she's an early incarnation of the woman Alex Kingston plays. That is, if this season isn't all in someone's head. So much emotion in this episode, but especially in those last two scenes in the Musée d'Orsay. Brighter than sunflowers. I'll be more detailed when I post a review, but here I'll say that they are suggesting Vincent's bipolar depression is of the severest kind (i.e. there are psychotic symptoms - hallucinations and altered perception). The idea is that his illness is what allows him to see the creature. From a metaphorical perspective, the creature is Van Gogh's depression, like the invisible "black dog" that fellow depressive Churchill was plagued by (*sigh* the season really missed a trick, there). The metaphor is deliberate, I'm sure: a blind monster that only the sufferer can see and combat, but that invisibly lashes out at those around it. And, of course, the Doctor tries to neutralise it by finding the correct "prozactic" setting on the sonic screwdriver. There are other elements, like Amy crying without knowing why. I suspect there's something going on with water metaphors. What about Jackson Lake? And Adelaide Brooke with the Flood? There was definitely some behind-the-scenes collaboration between RTD and Moffat on the Specials (LOL, as I keep saying). The Amy into River thing doesn't quite... wash with me though. ;D Also, I have a feeling that this season is somehow both dream/memory/fairytale and reality. The shopping list for things to be resolved in the finale is becoming ridiculous! Water water everywhere . . .
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Post by Lola m on Jun 27, 2010 20:54:23 GMT -5
"Sometimes moods of indescribable anguish, sometimes moments when the veil of time and fatality of circumstances seemed to be torn apart for an instant."
Vincent Van Gogh, 1889The Doctor takes Amy to the Musée d'Orsay to see an exhibition by a favourite artist, Vincent Van Gogh. In one picture, The Church at Auvers, he glimpses a face that he is certain is “evil” and the two go off in the TARDIS to search for the painter, because this is “a matter of life and death”. So good, so monster of the week. Except that it is not so simple. Amy should be submerged under grief. Thanks to the episode Amy’s Choice, we know her true feelings about Rory. Her love, her fiancé, the man with whom she should have spent a happy life is dead, has never existed. But she’s bouncing around as if Amelia is still in charge, perplexed at the Doctor being so nice to her, because she doesn’t remember anything about Rory. The quote from one of Van Gogh’s letters which begins this post is reflected to some extent in the episode. While it doesn’t focus completely on severe bipolar disorder, neither does it shy away from letting us know that this man was very ill, even to the point of psychotic symptoms. We see his mania as he tries to explain the powerful synaesthesia and perception of nature’s mystery that he experiences; we see him curled up in a ball and weeping, unable to face the world. Yet it is the Krafayis that reveals much about him. The creature is invisible, but for a reason that is never explained, Vincent can see it clearly. Although it is not spelt out we probably have to assume that his illness gives him a special perception of reality (the source, also, of his art). The Krafayis is blind and lashes out at those around it, while only the sufferer, Vincent himself, can see and fight it. That is at a literal level. At a metaphorical level, the Krafayis is Vincent’s illness, a theme quietly confirmed when the Doctor attempts to neutralise it by finding the correct “prozactic” setting on the sonic screwdriver. That Vincent himself ultimately defeats it by impaling it on his easel, on his art, is fitting. Yet the “monster” is actually innocent of the harm it causes to others. And we know, unfortunately, that this act will not save Vincent: “Doctor, my friend, we have fought monsters together and we have won. By myself, I fear I will not do as well.” Nicely analyzed, indeed, Riff. Her not really knowing her sadness, not remembering it, is - it itself - very sad, isn't it? Well put. Another reason I am glad that the ep didn't turn him into just a "lovable wacky character". I really loved Dr. Black's speech.
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Post by Lola m on Jun 27, 2010 20:56:00 GMT -5
no, because if we assume that I have to hate it. His special perception of reality, and his art, are his way of *fighting back against* his illness. The illness is the raging damaging thing, not a gift, and even the monster that was at first in the painting has no part in his art by the end of the episode. Nicely put!
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Post by Queen E on Jun 28, 2010 1:14:22 GMT -5
Ah, this is more like it. It rather reminded me of Girl in the Fireplace, of all things, in terms of the tone, the warmth, and the inability to change history. I love how sensitively Van Gogh was drawn in this episode.
This is my favorite kind of Doctor Who story.
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