Moffat's Who RANKED (39-31)

39. The Time of the Doctor

Written by Steven Moffat

"I will always remember when the Doctor was me."

The Time of the Doctor is...strange. Having spent an entire series generally avoiding most of the long-running arcs that became associated with Matt Smith, Moffat found himself having to put a capper on the whole thing in just one episode. The result is both inevitably rushed, yet oddly compelling. It's not really a surprise at this point that Moffat offers most of his big answers up as mere shrugs, savouring instead the larger dilemmas that meet the Doctor at the end of his eleventh life. It's a strange mix of tropes that the episode takes time to re-examine (How Clara's dismissal from Trenzalore echoes that of Rose in The Parting of the Ways, until the episode reveals it isn't really interested in a story about Clara finding her way back to the Doctor) and themes that will become refined later on (sacrifice in the face of eternity). Elements like the cracks and The Doctor completing his path to Trenzalore feel odd when presented without Amy and Rory...or perhaps, they feel odd when presented with Clara. I do wonder if TotD might in fact work better as a companionless episode, because Clara can't help but meet all of these developments with a raised eyebrow. But if TotD is a scrappily put together affair, it at least has the decency to be massive as well; almost outdoing it's immediate predecessor (when this first aired, I actually believed it was better than Day of the Doctor - can you imagine). It also gives us arguably Matt Smith's definitive performance, ranging from out and out sitcom work, to grand speeches to quiet acceptance in his now iconic final speech. A messy finale for a messy Doctor.

38. A Good Man Goes To War (S6E7)

Written by Steven Moffat

"Good men don't need rules...Today isn't the day to find out why I have so many."

Anyone coming to Doctor Who late in the game would probably be shocked by how just how high the hype was for A Good Man Goes To War. Presented as both a mid-series finale, but also (and crucially) the episode that would reveal River Song's identity, the episode attracted attention even from a general public who were just beginning to leave Doctor Who behind. Nowadays River's identity is so well covered we don't tend to look back at AGMGTW with that kind of viewpoint. River's reveal is still a nicely done scene, but it's a magic trick of a moment that is never the same after the first go around. What does keep this episode relatively favourable in the hearts of fans is what it has to say; because of course River's identity is revealed in the midst of the Doctor's moral crisis. Whilst it's a shame that the episode itself can't quite see the themes it presents all the way through, the talking points it introduces would linger with the show from here on out (to the detriment of Series 11, which largely tried to ignore it) - particularly the idea of the Doctor as a moral standard bearer that can be warped when unchecked. 'Doctor' - the word for healer and wise man becomes the word for 'great warrior' in the wrong context; the most memorable dramatisation of this idea being the Doctor's 'runaway' speech. Again, it's a shame the episode's solution is a little too easy a get-out after such large ideas are introduced (also, it's painfully obvious that Demon's Run is just a Cardiff warehouse), but even though AGMGTW's time has come and gone, it's reverberations are still going even when the show itself is trying not to hear them.

37. Into the Dalek (S8E20)

Written by Phil Ford & Steven Moffat

"If there's a pack of spare bulbs, break it to me gently."

To say Into the Dalek is essentially a retread of series one's 'Dalek' is both totally fair and totally selling it short. Whilst there's stuff here that doesn't quite work (like Ford's previous episode 'The Waters of Mars', I find the climactic action gets a bit too loud and screechy instead of actually suspenseful), the stuff that does work is really really cool. This is the second (and last) episode directed by Ben Wheatley and he affords the scenario a visual strangeness that is notable even in a show as eclectic as Doctor Who. There's the trip through the Dalek's eye stalk that is truly psychedelic, but even the decision to shoot the Daleks using miniature remote control models gives them a stuttery sensation, removing them one step further from how ordinary they've become. Rusty's distorted morality immediately became a symbol for the Doctor's early crisis of conscience and though it would take a couple of years to truly recognise the importance of that symbol, Into the Dalek solidifies the mission statement set out by Deep Breath. With Capaldi, Doctor Who would be going deeper than it had gone before.

36. The Girl Who Waited (S6E10)

Written by Tom MacRae

"This isn't fair. You're turning me into you."

Ah, The Girl Who Wait, or as fans sometimes like to refer to it as: 'Rory's Choice'. Confession time: I've never really been as into this one as people generally tend to be. I think it's an interesting setup, to be sure, but I never found the mechanics of its plot to be all that satisfying and always thought that people responded to the strong character work because the episode makes it incredibly obvious that it this is about Amy and Rory (which it is not alone in being - seriously, people, Moffat's era is just as interested in characters as RTD's was). But, having said that, the drama that the episode mines is superb and the cajones displayed in having one of the main characters essentially leave the other one to die are mighty indeed. It's probably more likely to knock people on their ass than the previous episodes, and who can deny the horror of Amy's awakening, leading us into one of the show's most ambiguous endings.

35. The God Complex (S6E11)

Written by Toby Whithouse

"I'm not a hero - I really am just a madman in a box. And it's time we saw each other for who we really are."

The God Complex is such a weeeeiiiirrrrrd episode. Cunningly disguised as a casual monster-of-the-week fest, Whithouse's Series 6 offering is actually all about the collapse of the Doctor's relationship with Amy and Rory - in particular their perception of him and how it feeds into the Doctor's inevitable God complex. And that can't help but be a little unsatisfying at first. Going from the gut-punch of 'The Girl Who Waited' to a standard monster-house setup to the departure of the companions in forty minutes means nothing ever really feels as permanent as it should do; especially considering we all know there's two more episodes of Series 6 to go. Rewatches are The God Complex' friend, then, as each of its layers and concerns come more and more into focus with each pass. Rory's lack of faith in anything (tellingly, not even in Amy) manifests in the lack of a room for him. The Doctor's bulldozing attitude becomes recoloured as deflecting the events of the previous episode. The weaponisation of faith comes at just the right time, given the extremities the companions have gone through in the middle of a show whose format demands that they press on. It honestly makes more and more sense as a story once more knowledge of the whole picture is possessed - something made even clearer given the episode that will ultimately come to render the Doctor's parting message as grisly foreshadowing:

34. The Angels Take Manhattan (S7E5)

Written by Steven Moffat

"And what's the alternative? Me standing over your grave? Over your broken body? Over Rory's body?"

Of course, that's actually a quote from the last episode, made flesh in this one. In many ways, it's an odd story for the two to depart on - detached as it is from almost all of the main plot threads that ran through their tenure (another classic symptom of Series 7's lacklustre planning). But for Amy and Rory as people, The Angels Take Manhattan ends up being oddly fitting. They don't need to know the truth of the cracks, the Silence or Trenzalore. They don't even need the Doctor, in the end. Just each other. It's an episode all about the nature of endings, in a show that can never have one. The constant struggle continues between an audience that continues to need the Doctor and the companions who always grow to leave them behind.

And yes I even like the statue of liberty. It's the weeping angels in New York - how could you not have it?

33. Thin Ice (S10E3)

Written by Sarah Dollard

"...I'm 2000 years old and I have never had the time for the luxury of outrage."

I can go round and round in circles trying to unpack that one line. In it we see the Doctor as who he would like to be - at peace with what he has done and what he must do. Thin Ice (and series 10 as a whole) is maybe one of the only times the Doctor acts according to that notion of peace. Even in an episode where the Doctor punches the bad guy before feeding him to a serpent, he is unusually chill (unintentional pun, but I'm keeping it) - a colossal leap away from the person he was only two series ago. Of course, it might just be a lie, spoken by a man for whom outrage often returns again and again. But such are the surprising depths to be plumbed in Sarah Dollards second episode on the show - an underrated gem that is actually much more fun than that previous discussion lets on. Where The Eaters of Light was lackadaisical when it should have been taut, Thin Ice is confident enough to earn its more methodical pace - so much so that it can afford to dick around for fifteen minutes before the actual plot starts. It is maybe the platonic ideal of a Doctor Who romp. Along with...

32. The Vampires of Venice (S5E6)

Written by Toby Whithouse

"The people upstairs are very noisy." "There aren't any people upstairs." "See I knew he was going to say that. Did anyone else know he was going to say that?"

Because Doctor Who is always going to have romps, right? It can't all be Blinks and Twice Upon A Times every single week - it has to let its hair down occasionally. When it does, The Vampires of Venice is what I hold up as a happy standard of what to aim for. This is a fairly fluffy episode, all things considered, but it's also pretty goddamn delightful. Toby Whithouse has a knack for writing companion-centric stories and so proves to be a great choice in bringing our beloved Rory kicking and screaming into the fold. The actual sci-fi plotline for Vampires of Venice is mostly serviceable, but watching this particular TARDIS team finally come together for the first time is magic almost on par with watching Harry, Ron and Hermione all meet on the Hogwarts Express.

31. The Bells of St. John (S7E7)

Written by Steven Moffat

"This whole world is swimming in WiFi. We’re living in a WiFi soup. Suppose something got inside it."

Apparently, Moffat considers this his most average episode. By happy coincidence, it sits almost right in the middle of this ranking. Honestly, I get what he means (though my brother loves it and will be upset if I don't point that out). It moves at a clip but fudges some of the plotting, with a few details that don't slot quite satisfyingly into the bigger picture. What elevates it above the previous entries, then, is the same thing that always elevates Moffat's work - it's delirium. Because no-one has more fun (even in their more so-so scripts) with the world of Doctor Who quite like Moffat, leaping from street to TARDIS to plane to the next morning to anti-grav bikes within scenes, or even seconds, of each other. It stumbles where it probably counts the most by barely introducing Clara in her first episode (maybe the other two Claras are supposed to compensate? It's never quite clear), but as a shot of Doctor Who energy, it delivers the goods.

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