First broadcast 14 May 2011.

Times change. It is always worth keeping in mind that, no matter when a work of art is created, the context of its creation will always be fixed to the time of its making while the context of its reading will always float forward in line with the time that it is read. That is to say, we can view a 1960s James Bond feature with the understanding that its sexist attitudes were broadly acceptable for the era in which it was made, but that does not free us from the difficulty of watching the appalling sexism from the vantage point of the mid-2020s.

This works not just for social attitudes but also for people. For example, when Doctor Who episode “The Doctor’s Wife” was first broadcast in May 2011 it was largely celebrated for being written by popular and award-winning author Neil Gaiman. By 2025, however, Gaiman’s reputation and popularity has been over-shadowed by multiple accusations of sexual misconduct and assault – accusations that have seen several film and streaming adaptations of his work either curtailed or cancelled across the board. The episode never changed, and never well. The audience, I think, has shifted considerably, and it is impossible not to have one’s view of “The Doctor’s Wife” coloured by the damaged reputation of its author. All apologies to director Richard Clark, whose direction here is slick and on point, but real life has to an extent soured the experience of this episode.

Following the distress beacon sent by a fellow Time Lord, the Doctor (Matt Smith) travels outside of the known universe on a rescue mission. It is a trap: the central matrix of the TARDIS is deposited into the body of a woman, and the malevolent entity House (Michael Sheen) takes its place in a rush to escape back to real space.

There is a central conceit to “The Doctor’s Wife” that drives the entire episode, which is the idea of personifying the Doctor’s TARDIS and having the Doctor meet them face-to-face. It is, in essential terms, a brilliant idea that enables the series to aggressively interrogate what is its most under-served relationship” between the Doctor and his ship. Of course, this being 21st century Doctor Who that relationship is immediately framed as a romantic one. Suranne Jones plays Idris, the personified TARDIS, as a typically Gaiman-esque hyperactive ‘pixie dream girl’. She is immediately sexualised – and sexually aggressive – while simultaneously presenting as foolish, confused, and emotionally naïve. In 2011 it was a little tedious to see such stereotypes indulged, but Jones was a talented actor and the dialogue was fairly snappy and amusing (Amy’s reaction to the Doctor’s TARDIS becoming an attractive woman – “Did you wish really hard?” – is arguably one of the best gags in all 62 years of Who). In 2025? Please don’t make us consider character tropes alongside Gaiman’s alleged proclivities. These are real-life accusations against a real-life person, and I categorically do not want to compare them.

That said, the discomfort exists. No matter one’s personal position on separating art from artist, a choice needs to be made and that choice is going to be personal and subjective. It is irrelevant to Neil Gaiman and his accusers whether or not any given viewer continues to watch “The Doctor’s Wife” or not. None of us are in a fair position to judge the viewing choices of others either. For me, the episode just feels too uncomfortable to enjoy any more. I am not sure if I will ever watch it again.

So as a final commentary on the episode: it’s an oddly hollow exercise, sparked off by a clever idea but strangely lacking in much in the way of nuts-and-bolts plotting. The Doctor and Idris build an improvised TARDIS to go chasing after House. House torments Amy (Karen Gillen) and Rory (Arthur Darvill) for a while. It has its share of excitement and humour, but none of the story has any weight. Funny dialogue entertains, but rarely feels like things actual people would ever say. It’s enjoyable television, but I cannot help but feel Doctor Who fans were tricked by the premise into rather overrating it. Certainly I feel tricked. 12 years ago, when listing the 50 greatest Doctor Who stories I ranked it 41st. I feel I owe “Terror of the Zygons” an apology for ranking it 42nd.

Not that it matters to me so much now. When the artist threatens to soil the art, I find it difficult to summon any enthusiasm. Watch it, leave it: it’s entirely up to you.