Analysis of Doctor Who’s ‘The Reality War’ Finale

Spoilers for “The Reality War.”

The BBC and Disney chose not to share screeners ahead of “The Reality War” to preserve its numerous twists. There isn’t time to review it in the usual style, but I felt it necessary to conclude this series of reviews by discussing the finale. It is not as if I have nothing to say about what transpired on Saturday.

“It’s the end… but the moment has been ‘prepared for.’”

I find it hard to believe that “The Reality War” was planned and written as the culmination of this run of Doctor Who. I am aware that the BBC, Bad Wolf, and Ncuti Gatwa have claimed that the intention from the start was for him to exit after two short seasons. However, I remain skeptical.

On one hand, the rumors of discord behind the scenes, last-minute reshoots, and Disney’s reported dissatisfaction are difficult to overlook. Yet, there is more compelling evidence simply by watching the episode and reflecting on what occurred.

Everything following the Doctor’s triumphant return to UNIT HQ feels hastily assembled and tacked on. At times, it seems as though all of the main actors are reading from different scripts and not interacting with one another.

Spot the join

Some viewers have expressed dissatisfaction with the simplistic resolution of the Omega storyline, but I believe it was always intended to conclude in that manner. Russell T. Davies has a history of resolving major dramatic plots early in his finales to allow more time to explore the aftermath for the characters.

For instance, last year’s “Empire of Death” resolved the Sutekh storyline two-thirds of the way through to focus on Ruby meeting her birth mother for the remainder of the episode. For Davies, the grand CGI space monsters serve as a vehicle to spend meaningful moments with his characters.

Yet, the character moments in this episode feel disjointed, if not entirely incoherent. The standout moment is when Poppy disappears. The visual of the Doctor and Belinda absentmindedly passing her coat back and forth as it transforms into an ever-smaller piece of cloth is striking.

However, when Ruby’s concerns are finally acknowledged, the Doctor’s decision to hand Belinda a child comes completely out of left field. This choice contradicts everything we have learned about her over the past eight weeks and is quite outrageous.

This leads to the more plausible conclusion that Davies, faced with no commission for a third season and a lead actor looking to depart, hastily wrote a few pages of incoherent material to justify the change.

“One day, I shall come back.”

Rumors suggest that the original ending would have featured Susan as a lead-in to the next season. This is not merely a hint; the last two years have clearly laid the groundwork for this development. The Doctor openly discussed having a child living in London (in “The Devil’s Chord”), and the Susan Twist saga was designed to build upon that. Hiring the 84-year-old Carole Ann Ford for brief cameos in the last two episodes, along with references in “Lux,” was clearly part of the plan. Now, after the extensive buildup of that storyline, it appears we will not have the opportunity to see what Davies had intended.

Returning to the claim by the BBC and Gatwa that this was always meant to be a two-season deal, it is likely that the show’s original ending will be forgotten. Given Ford’s age, it is probable that we will never have the chance to give the actress the farewell she truly deserved in 1964.

“Davies has never been that sort of writer.”

A significant amount of fan speculation this year has focused on various structural and thematic coincidences. Each episode of this run could be mapped onto the previous one, covering similar ground. However, as I noted back in “Lux,” Russell T. Davies is not the type of writer who constructs a mystery box that resolves perfectly by the conclusion. His writing resembles a child pulling toys out of a toy box and smashing them together at speed.

“The Reality War” exemplifies this approach, as many elements return, yet none are as crucial to the plot’s conclusion as they could have been. Anita serves as a convenient means of extracting the Doctor from the cliffhanger but contributes little else to the episode. It is difficult to take seriously the suggestion that she fell in love with the Doctor, especially considering that, in this incarnation, he is more interested in men. Joy, too, from “Joy to the World” is mentioned but lacks emotional resonance given the events of that episode. And regarding the treatment of women…

“I was this really brilliant woman”

Doctor Who has spent much of its recent years addressing its own shortcomings regarding representation. This era has continued that tradition, expanding the series’ supporting cast, particularly the team known by fans as the “UNIT Family.” In “The Reality War,” every one of the Doctor’s allies, except Colonel Ibrahim, is either a woman or non-binary. Yet, the sheer number of cast members means each character is almost aggressively underserved.

“The Reality War” focuses on unpacking a false reality created by an ultra-conservative YouTuber who ignores and erases disabled and queer individuals. However, the show’s treatment of these characters during the action-packed finale and afterward is lacking. When the team begins to collaborate, the multitude of individuals surrounding the Doctor receive little to no meaningful engagement.

Anita is reduced to the role of a human doorstop, literally holding the door to the Time Hotel open to counteract Conrad’s wish. Kate orders Shirley to fire the lasers. Susan (Triad) constructs the zero room. Mel does virtually nothing after being dismissed by the Rani. And then there’s Rose.

Rose’s brief appearance could have been profoundly impactful if she had assisted in defeating Conrad after being pulled from oblivion. Instead, she merely exists so the Doctor can highlight that she was erased because Conrad disregards non-binary transfem individuals. Following that moment, Yasmin Finney essentially vanishes from the episode again, reducing her to a prop rather than a character.

The treatment of Ruby and Belinda is even more troubling. Ruby is marginalized and almost aggressively ignored by the characters, leading me to assume their dismissal of her claims indicated that reality had not been restored. Conversely, Belinda transitions from not having a child to having a fictional child in Conrad’s world, only to forget she ever existed when Conrad’s wish is reversed. When the timeline resets and she no longer remembers a child, the Doctor opts to sacrifice his life to restore that child’s existence. This is perplexing. Given Davies’ political views and the (ostensibly) pro-abortion subtext of “Space Babies,” the Doctor suddenly rewrites the universe to impose motherhood on his companion—without her consent.

“It’s funny, but is it going to get them off their tractors?”

I’m a Brit reviewing a uniquely British show.