And here we are–the day the Doctor has been running from all of his lives…the day I’ve been counting down with my Doctor Who posts. Today is the Day of the Doctor, and I can honestly say that I can’t imagine a better Doctor to have in the TARDIS for this day than dear old number 11.
I didn’t always feel this way. I was extremely skeptical over Matt Smith’s age, and saying goodbye to David Tennant after I had grown to love him was no easy task. Still, I had matured enough in my Whovian ways to give Smith a proper chance to win me over as the Doctor.
He started out strong in “The Eleventh Hour”, but some of his subsequent performances stumbled a bit. He would say he was the Doctor, yet something about him seemed uncertain–almost as though he didn’t quite believe he was the Doctor, and if he didn’t believe it, how were we supposed to? But with each passing episode, his confidence grew, and by the time the Pandorica opened, Smith was owning that role.
The Eleventh Doctor is physically the youngest, but in reality he is the oldest of all the Doctors, and his years weigh heavily on him. This unique combination of age and youth makes it impossible to imagine a more appropriate Doctor to observe the 50th anniversary of a show that itself is old yet is constantly new.