Stepping Into the Starry Night
Perhaps the most beautiful moment in the over 60-year history of Doctor Who comes from a very simple question: What would you do if you were in the Museé d’Orsay with a time machine? Whatever your first thoughts may be, this question is answered definitively in “Vincent and the Doctor” (S5:E10). Initially, the mysterious appearance of a monster in the painting, The Church at Auvers, leads the Doctor on a journey back to 19th century France. By the end, however, having listened to the wisdom and witnessed the beauty of a man who had believed he possessed neither, the Doctor makes the choice to break his own rules and take someone forward in time, if only for a few minutes. He does what we would all do and shows Vincent Van Gogh what he means to the world.
Works of historical fiction often attempt to accurately depict people like Van Gogh, but the freedom with which Doctor Who approaches storytelling allows for it to capture the essence of one of the greatest humans in history with brilliant precision. Of course, the story is not intended to portray history in a realistic manner. Instead, just like the expressionist strokes of Van Gogh’s masterpieces reflect a unique perspective of the world, this story paints an image not of Van Gogh’s historical self, but of the essence in Vincent’s story, both broken and beautiful.
We first witness this through the Monster of the Week, an otherworldly creature visible only to Vincent. While rather unsubtle, this functions effectively as a metaphor for his mental illness, as Van Gogh was known to experience hallucinations and depression can easily be described as a monster only you can see. While first used to emphasize how misunderstood Vincent is, as the townsfolk think he is going insane, the monster is most effectively implemented in its death. As it cries out, only Vincent is able to see it, and the audience realizes the metaphorical mirror: only Vincent could see the monster and only we, unlike the people of his time, can truly see Vincent. However, both are too late to do anything to truly aid their suffering.
The key element of capturing Van Gogh is the character of Vincent himself, wonderfully portrayed by Tony Curran as a depressed and broken man who sees the beauty of the world in a way others can only begin to imagine. Indeed, one of the most moving scenes of the episode is when the Doctor realizes, listening to Vincent talk about the colors and shapes he sees in the night sky, that even through his centuries of life, he has never seen something as beautiful as Vincent has. The whole scene is brilliantly illuminated by special effects that transform the sea of divided stars into Van Gogh’s vision of The Starry Night. Meanwhile, the Doctor, always the one in control, always talking, always giving instructions, simply listens to Vincent describe his vision of the world. We may never know what the real Van Gogh was like, but this depiction of Vincent demonstrates how much we learn if we just listen and give people a chance to show us how they see the world.
Finally, the penultimate scene truly shatters the bounds of historical realism and opens floodgates as Vincent travels through time to see the gallery in the Museé d’Orsay dedicated to his work. Words don’t do the scene justice, as it transforms one of the most tragic stories in human history into a truly beautiful one. Nowadays almost everyone knows about Van Gogh’s tortured and unappreciated life, and in this episode, Doctor Who — a show that fulfills fantasies of traveling through space, meeting strange creatures, and saving the universe — lets its viewers imagine that this great tragedy could be undone. It lets us imagine, just for a moment, that Vincent somehow knew, those centuries ago, that his work was magnificent and would one day be beloved by all.
Contrasting from the emotional height of the previous scene, the conclusion reveals that Vincent still committed suicide, mere months after the story takes place. In this resides perhaps the most thoughtful aspect of the story, that all the grandiosity of his beauty does not change the fact that Vincent Van Gogh was a broken man. Indeed, he can never be defined merely by one of his aspects and the story respects this. “Vincent and the Doctor” is perhaps the closest we will ever come to understanding the man who looked out from the barred window of his asylum and poured the pain of his life onto a canvas that inspires awe in us all. As a story, the episode is very much like the starry night, neither happy nor sad, but simply, and unquestionably, beautiful.