This review contains full spoilers for Doctor Who Season 2, Episode 2, “Lux”.
Following a disappointing season premiere, this week’s Doctor Who is a meticulously crafted descent into a retro-tinged nightmare, where daring storytelling collides with a pervasive, unsettling atmosphere. The TARDIS doesn’t arrive in the expected sun-drenched glamour of 1952 Miami, but rather in its subtly sinister twilight. It’s a period setting rendered in immaculate detail: pastel hues, sharply tailored costumes, and a lovingly recreated slice of mid-century Americana. Drawn into a mystery surrounding 15 missing patrons at a once-bustling picture house, what begins with echoes of a standard Doctor Who caper, even cheekily evoking Scooby-Doo, quickly spirals into something far stranger and more ambitious.
That ambition is most profoundly realized in the work of director Amanda Brotchie and animators Framestore, whose contribution to this episode is fantastic. With fine finesse, they’ve managed to channel the kinetic energy and whimsical charm of the Fleischer Studios’ animated heyday, crafting an unsettling combination of colorful whimsy and insidious presence in the form of Mr. Ring-a-Ding. Masterfully embodied by Alan Cumming, who delivers a tour-de-force vocal performance, the villain feels like he’s stepped directly out of a 1930s cartoon reel, not just in style, but in physics, posture, and that off-putting grin. It’s classic rubber-hose animation, brought to life and warped just enough to feel wrong, possessed, and dancing to a silent, unsettling rhythm, tactically amplified by Murray Gold’s wonderfully creaky and classically Hitchcockian score.
If there’s a bum note to this, it’s the reveal that Mr. Ring-a-Ding is Lux, another all-seeing, all-knowing cosmic deity – a character type Doctor Who is certainly guilty of overindulging in these days. It’s hardly a fatal flaw, and the nightmarishly animated devil still manages to exert a captivating influence over the episode. Moreover, the reveal lends to a fitting end for the villain, with the god of light released to join the celestial tapestry above us in a surprisingly poetic send-off. But fingers crossed we don’t see another one-off fantastical god in disguise anytime soon.
The animated brilliance of “Lux” extends beyond Mr. Ring-a-Ding. Amid the episode’s chaos, the Doctor and Belinda are unexpectedly thrust into a cartoon reality, a turn in the story that transcends mere gimmickry. The resulting sequence is a delightfully bizarre and frenetic experience, brimming with quippy puns and one-liners delivered with the pace and precision of the best early Simpsons episodes. After the pun-laden stumbles of the season opener, it’s a relief to see Russell T Davies wield his wordplay with actual purpose: Not just twisting phrases for plot’s sake, but crafting lines that carry rhythm, wit, and a surprising amount of heart. Crucially, the inherent absurdity of the sequence never undermines the episode’s sincerity, maintains tension, and exhibits a pacing that is atypical of Doctor Who, a show often constrained by its tight runtime. Against all odds, it not only works, but ends before it wears out its welcome.
That goes double for the episode’s even bolder swing: a gleefully clichéd fourth-wall break where the Doctor and Belinda crash straight through a television screen into a modern-day living room, startling a set of bewildered Doctor Who fans mid-episode. With the fans decked out in stereotypical Who-dress-up – Tom Baker’s scarf, Matt Smith’s fez – it does come off as a bit too on the nose at first. However, the reveal of Mr. Ring-a-Ding’s involvement and the fact that it’s actually part of the illusion swiftly recontextualizes the scene. As a result, it feels a lot more affectionate without pandering, folding fandom into the fiction, and smartly avoiding any strained winks or jabs. To my surprise, the whole detour ends up doing more than simply breaking the fourth wall; it starts to toy, with real intent, at the boundaries between fiction and reality, going so far as to brazenly acknowledge the online leaks that spoiled the scene’s very existence. It caught me off guard in a way the show rarely does, and I still haven’t quite decided whether it’s genius or not.
Yet, beneath all the meta references and structural flair, “Lux” is ultimately anchored by a powerful emotional core that pulses throughout the episode. While some of the dialogue still feels a little janky or rushed in places, and the supporting cast remains one-note – more functional than fleshed out – the episode’s simple, chaotic center still shines. Plus, any shortcomings on the periphery are quickly eclipsed by the leads, who make the episode feel like a stage built just for them. Ncuti Gatwa delivers yet another standout performance as the Doctor, carefully channeling the mischief of the character’s past incarnations with the warmth and gravitas of a silver-age superhero. There’s real conviction in his quieter moments, like promises to a grieving mother and reflections on how his humble police box gives people hope. It all lands like a statement of intent for Doctor Who itself. Gatwa’s scenes with Varada Sethu aren’t drowned out by exposition but resonate with a dynamic rhythm shared by equals. I also especially love that Belinda being a nurse isn’t treated as a throwaway backstory – it’s embedded in her every instinct as a character, shaping how she operates. (It’s already propping up some great interactions with the Doctor.) The fact that she’s only been in the TARDIS for two weeks is astonishing. She somehow already feels foundational.
Score: 9/10
Verdict:
