Series 6. Written by Tom MacRae. Directed by Nick Hurran
Series six may be where everything started to head south with the Moffat era but in amongst the tediously convoluted twists-within-twists and narrative befuddling series arcs the show was still capable of some proper human (and Time Lord) drama. Harking back to the stark storytelling and small casts of Who's earliest days, The Girl Who Waited puts Amy centre stage in a Kafkaesque nightmare where pressing the wrong button leads to thirty six years in a hospital on a plague riddled planet. Karen Gillan finally gets to show her acting chops rather than just her legs as Amy builds a different identity away from the Doctor and Rory, and the emotional ending - whilst a little nonsensical - is a deft reminder that the fate of the universe doesn't have to be at stake to make us care about an episode's outcome.
18 Eve of the Daleks
Special. Written by Chris Chibnall. Directed by Annetta Laufer
The Chibnall era had two default settings; worthy and educational (Rosa, Demons of the Punjab) and formulaic and impenetrable (the bloody Flux). Which is why the decision to do a taut, smart and funny timey-wimey caper set in a storage centre on New Year's Eve felt so life-affirmingly old-fashioned I could've cried. The setting may seem inauspicious but Eve of the Daleks pack a hell of a lot into its hour running time, with a high-concept time loop plot device, cute love story, powerhouse guest performance from Aisling Bea and some delightful character comedy. Oh, and Daleks. It's pacy, tense and just about hangs together conceptually - which under Chibnall's reign is more of a feat than you might think. I'll even forgive the gratuitous taxidermy.
17 The Time of Angels/Flesh and Stone
Series 5. Written by Steven Moffat. Directed by Adam Smith
The Time of Angels/Flesh and Stone rips up just about everything we have hitherto learned about the Weeping Angels and replaces the ineffably eerie, slo-mo suspense of Blink with a gun-toting action frightfest in a big spooky cave. Against all odds, it's brilliant. Memorable set pieces are legion; Amy locking eyes with the onscreen Angel, the Doctor's ingenious cliffhanger solution, Father Octavian's noble demise. But more than anything it's just terrifically scary and proves just how adaptable a monster the Weeping Angel is, considering how radically different a role it plays in the narrative here. Superb direction from Adam Smith makes full use of shadow and claustrophobic darkness and, arguably for the last time, the Doctor and River Song play off each other with genuine respect for the severity of the situation rather than just flirting obnoxiously. A belter.
16 World Enough and Time/The Doctor Falls
Series 10. Written by Steven Moffat. Directed by Rachel Talalay
This is a slightly tricky one as there is a definite disparity in the quality of the episodes in this series closing two-parter. That's not to say that The Doctor Falls with its exploding house on the prairie, dance of the Masters and sucker-punch ending isn't cracking viewing. It's just World Enough and Time's slow burn set-up, sinuous atmosphere of decay and disease and deliciously sinister interplay between Bill and Dostoyevskian ne'er do well Razor is so perfectly judged that the necessary change of pace for part two makes things feel a little more, well, conventional. But taken as a whole it's an electrifying, immersive story of which director Rachel Talalay's inspired treatment of Bill's split identity (not to mention Pearl Mackie's astounding portrayal) is the burning emotional core.
15 Rosa
Series 11. Written by Malorie Blackman and Chris Chibnall. Directed by Mark Tonderai
Rosa really should not work as well as it does. The central premise of the narrative doesn't really stand up to scrutiny, Krasko is arguably the most rubbish villain (in practical terms) in the whole of New Who and in place of chases, monsters and digital effects pyrotechnics we have the Thirteenth Doctor and fam awkwardly nudging history along by requisitioning buses and fabricating clothing repairs. That it does succeed at all is thanks to a mesmerising central performance from Vinette Robinson as Rosa Parks, the measured - if occasionally a little over-expository - writing of Malorie Blackman and the nuanced tackling of how both Ryan and Yas would have been treated in 1950s Alabama. Even in the modern era Doctor Who seldom confronts the all-too-real evils of racism so overtly. Fortunately Rosa manages to do it with sensitivity, power and feeling.
14 The Day of the Doctor
Special. Written by Steven Moffat. Directed by Nick Hurran
Matt Smith! David Tennant! John Hurt! Billie Piper rocking up as a sassy mega-bomb interface! Tom Baker upstaging them all in the closing minutes! There was no way the Doctor Who 50th anniversary special wasn't going to be a big, noisy, lightning paced romp and we wouldn't have had it any other way. Chucking Zygons, Elizabeth I, a lecture on Gallifreyan art and the little matter of the War Doctor rewriting the fundamental backstory of the previous seven series into the mix, The Day of the Doctor abounds in crackling one-liners ("granddad and sand shoes!"), irresisitible chemistry between the leads and giddy storytelling of the highest order. Happy birthday Doctor!
13 Turn Left
Series 4. Written by Russell T. Davies. Directed by Graeme Harper
Aka. the Donna Noble Show. The first proper Tenth Doctor story on this list barely features Monsieur Allons-y, opting instead for a jaw-droppingly grim dystopian vision of what the Earth (nay, the universe) would have been like had Donna turned right rather than left and never met or saved the Doctor in The Runaway Bride. What may sound on the surface like a knockabout 'what if?' scenario just gets bleaker and bleaker as the Doctor (and various beloved companions of yore) buy the farm, London gets decimated and, in a particularly chilling scene, families get carted off to 'labour camps.' Tough as some of this is to watch, it raises the stakes sufficiently high for the story's resolution to be a genuinely punch-the-air moment and Catherine Tate plays it all magnificently, simultaneously finding both the vulnerability and inherent strength in the character.
12 The Doctor's Wife
Series 6. Written by Neil Gaiman. Directed by Richard Clark
It's grimy, gothic and unmistakably Neil Gaiman. The undoubted highlight of series six is a masterclass in atmosphere and character dynamics from the legendary fantasy writer, as the Tardis crashes on a bubble planet outside the universe and the temperamental time machine's matrix is sucked into the body of the enigmatic Idris. It's a genius conceit and, whilst the story slightly runs out of steam in the final stretch, Matt Smith has arguably never been better than when verbally sparring with his Tardis-in-female-form, dazzlingly played by Suranne Jones. Granted, Amy and Rory are reduced to running round the shell of the Tardis at the capricious whim of omnipotent baddie House, but there is so much to love here, from the blistering dialogue and grungy design to the stylish direction and winning performances. Sadly, Gaiman would prove unable to repeat the trick.
11 Dalek
Series 1. Written by Robert Shearman. Directed by Joe Ahearne
The Autons' campy return in Rose demonstrated Russell T. Davies' willingness to resurrect old foes from the classic era but there was widespread concern about the wisdom of bringing back those malevolent pepperpots, the Daleks. Writer Robert Shearman's answer was to scale things right back and rather than an avenging army, focus on the cold, white terror a single, solitary Dalek could instill in a thus far pretty cocky Ninth Doctor. Such existential angst was ideal grist to Christopher Eccleston's thespian mill and went a long way to establishing the Doctor's first onscreen incarnation for nine years, whilst the unapologetically high level of violence fixed the Daleks as a seriously lethal threat. Meanwhile, Rose's humanity - in contrast to the Doctor's alien surliness - ensures the story ultimately possesses heart and compassion amongst the bullets and exterminations.
10 A Christmas Carol
Special. Written by Steven Moffat. Directed by Toby Haynes
In the Tennant era we generally knew what to expect from a Doctor Who Christmas special; light, frothy storyline, big-name guest companion and a sentimental message in the snow to wrap things up. A Christmas Carol retains the big name (Michael Gambon being typically fab as a futuristic Scrooge) and the ending is certainly not lacking in sentiment. But the story itself - an SF twist on Dickens' festive classic - is certainly no romp, tackling as it does issues of grief, regret, abusive parenting and the evils of capitalism in an unabashedly emotional, sublimely directed hour. Kids may chafe against the lack of supernatural monster and the gorgeous love story but this is top drawer Christmas drama about the need for kindness, empathy and compassion and it brings a tear to my eye every time.
9 Midnight
Series 4. Written by Russell T. Davies. Directed by Alice Troughton
New Who has never shied away from offering pointed social comment about the shortcomings of human nature but nowhere have the darker aspects been plumbed more starkly than in Midnight. An unbearably tense piece set on a shuttle speeding across the eponymous planet, Davies' taut examination of paranoia and self-preservation when a group of passengers are faced with a possessed fellow traveller relies on deft characterisation and a portrait of the Tenth Doctor at his most impotent. Tennant and Lesley Sharp deliver stellar performances and once more the show demonstrates it doesn't need a grisly monster to unsettle its audience.
Series 1. Written by Paul Cornell. Directed by Joe Ahearne
It may be because of the multitudes of clouds under which Christopher Eccleston departed the show but the first series of new Who deserves a lot more credit than it gets. Eight episodes in and Eccleston, Billie Piper and writer Paul Cornell combine to unspool an intensely moving study in loss, family and mortality. Faced with the opportunity to rewrite history and save her father from being hit by a car, Rose does what we'd all do and inadvertently guides a horde of winged beasties through the resultant cracks in time. Genuinely poignant, Father's Day only confirms Piper's formidable range and natural charisma.
7 Silence in the Library/Forest of the Dead
Series 4. Written by Steven Moffat. Directed by Euros Lyn
In one of Steven Moffat's finest scripts lies the seeds of his downfall as showrunner. Not only does Silence in the Library/Forest of the Dead introduce the increasingly infuriating River Song, it also pulls the kind of mind-bending narrative tricks that, pumped out relentlessly week-on-week in a couple of series time, will all but sink the show. But let's not worry about that now because this is Moffat walking the tightrope between arch-plot construction and self-indulgent codswallop and coming down firmly on the right side. The juxtaposition of the gothic dread of the library with the clinical brightness of Cal's world creates a brilliantly disturbing sense of dislocation mirrored in the plot, whilst the revelations are perfectly paced to inject maximum chills and heart-pumping excitement.
Series 5. Written by Richard Curtis. Directed by Jonny Campbell
Probably the most divisive Doctor Who story of the modern era demonstrates what happens when big name writers seek to recast the show in their own image. Vincent and the Doctor's critics claim that Richard Curtis' shamelessly sentimental dive into the tormented mind of Van Gogh isn't really a Doctor Who story at all but, whilst it's true the Krafayis is more mental health metaphor than credible alien threat, they rather miss the point. Underneath the prosthetics and CGI Doctor Who has fundamentally always been about tolerance, kindness and trying to sort out the universe's problems so that nobody gets hurt. Viewed in that lineage, Vincent and the Doctor is as Doctor Who as they come - a huge-hearted attempt to understand why everyone is different and how we can try and alleviate the suffering of others. It doesn't hurt that the episode looks suitably painterly and boasts one of the series' most captivating performances in Tony Curran's electric portrayal of the tortured artist.
Series 2. Written by Steven Moffat. Directed by Euros Lyn
Because for many viewers David Tennant simply is the modern incarnation of the Doctor in the same way that Tom Baker personified the Gallifreyan gadabout in the classic era, we have become somewhat inured to the fact that a significant proportion of episodes from series two and three are pretty rum. For every Impossible Planet there is a Love and Monsters, for every Blink a Lazarus Experiment. But even the memory of Peter Kay capering around in a green fat suit cannont dim the luminosity of the exquisite Girl in the Fireplace. A marvel of economic, effortlessly classy storytelling, Moffat's second Who script recounts a whole lifetime's worth of longing, love, power and duty in forty five incredibly imaginative minutes, as Madame de Pompadour is unnaccountably terrorised by clockwork robots and the Doctor contemplates abandoning wandering the universe to settle down with her in Versailles. The chemistry between Tennant and Sophia Myles is electrifying whilst Moffat manages to mix zingy one-liners with heartfelt pathos superbly.
Series 9. Written by Steven Moffat. Directed by Rachel Talalay
Envelopes were pushed in terms of tone and pace with alacrity during the Twelfth Doctor's tenure but nothing was quite as audacious as Heaven Sent. Essentially an hour of Peter Capaldi muttering to himself whilst being relentlessly pursued by a shambling, shrouded creature round an immense, ever-shifting castle, the episode lives or dies on its central - indeed, virtually sole - performance and the bravery of Rachel Talalay's direction. Fortunately, both rise to the occasion spectacularly. Capaldi is peerless as he switches between stern admonition and manic desperation, all the while fuelled by grief and self-recrimination, whilst the creeping passage of time and the steady build up of clues is handled with sure-footed style and gravitas by Talalay. A masterpiece of mood and meaning.
3 Blink
Series 3. Written by Steven Moffat. Directed by Hettie MacDonald
Blink has been praised to the heavens since it was first broadcast in 2007 and it's not hard to see why. Despite the Doctor and Martha pulling the strings primarily offscreen, the story introduces an iconic monster with a high-concept modus operandi, whilst Moffat's script is an intricately constructed puzzle box which makes full use of the show's playful relationship with time. And, much like Moffat's previous gem The Girl in the Fireplace, it somehow manages to accomplish this within the space of forty five minutes. Carey Mulligan turns in an irresistible performance as Sally Sparrow and the Weeping Angels - borne of that traditional kicker to Whovian creativity; budgetary restraints - are genuinely creepy and visually unforgettable. It's not as perfect as its acolytes would have you believe - Sally and Billy's whirlwind romance feels rushed even given the time-slipping context - but it's hard to argue with its dazzling structure and enduring influence.
2 The Empty Child/The Doctor Dances
Series 1. Written by Steven Moffat. Directed by James Hawes
During Russell T. Davies' tenure as showrunner, Steven Moffat penned just four stories (one in each series). That quartet - The Girl in the Fireplace, Blink, Silence in the Library/Forest of the Dead and this breathtaking World War II-set spine-chiller - all feature in the top ten of this list and are rightly regarded amongst the classics of New Who. The Empty Child/The Doctor Dances was his first and best. Bursting with brilliant ideas that, crucially, feed into the plot in intelligent and surprising ways rather than just being flashy diversions that lead nowhere, this two-parter derives goosebump-inducing terror from its exclusively nocturnal mise en scene and genius incorporation of gas masks into the design of the story's 'monsters.' Different aspects of the plot dovetail perfectly to generate a climax of immense emotional power, whilst the introduction of Captain Jack allows the Ninth Doctor to loosen up and trade some delightful one-liners. Blink may get all the plaudits but The Empty Child/The Doctor Dances is Moffat's most focused, inventive plot - and crucially it has a lot more heart.
Series 3. Written by Paul Cornell. Directed by Charles Palmer
A poignant precognition of a nation of children about to be slaughtered on the Western Front. The most genuinely affecting love story Doctor Who has ever told. A subtle statement on race, class and gender at the end of the Edwardian age. A profound meditation on what it means to be human and how alien 'heroism' may be less desirable and more destructive than just living a quiet, contented life. A scary, richly atmospheric historical horror story boasting a slew of visually arresting images and memorable villains. David Tennant's best ever performance (in anything, including Hamlet). A script adapted by Paul Cornell from his New Adventures novel that sings with eloquence, wit and emotional acuity. Martha Jones finally getting the chance to be unconditionally awesome. The stand-up-and-cheer finale. The perfection of the term Chameleon Arch. The realisation that you're watching not just the apex of the modern era of Doctor Who but one of the best ninety minutes of television of the twenty-first century.
That enough?
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