I wrote the following review back in 2017 after watching the story as part of an intermittent ‘Christmas marathon’ I post about on Gallifrey Base. Rather than rewarch and regurgitate my thoughts on this sory, I thought I’d simply post my original review here (with a few edits to excise some unecessary 2017 context).

Why do fans hate this story so much? It is constantly cited as one of the, if not THE, worst of the Christmas specials. But I just cannot bring myself to even dislike it, let alone hate it. It’s just so magical – I love it.

And there, I think, may lie the problem. It is magical. There’s some sort of science guff to explain events, but basically it’s Doctor Who with the fantasy quotient ramped up. Of course, hating it for this reason is to ignore the fact that Doctor Who’s attention to scientific rigour has been pretty loose from the day Ian and Barbara walked into a police box that was bigger on the inside than the outside and took them to a different world.

Sounds a bit like something by C S Lewis. Oh, I see what Moffat did there….

Doctor Who is ‘science fantasy’ if we must give it a label; not science fiction.

So what do I like about this story. First and foremost is Matt Smith. He is definitely my favourite modern series Doctor and ties for first place (depending on my mood)with Peter Davison and Patrick Troughton for overall favourite. I’ve seen some posters round Gallifrey Base mention this story as the point where he goes too twirly and from then on never really recovers the subtleties of his earlier performances. Poppycock. He’s twirly in this story because of the ‘role’ he’s playing. He’s avoiding facing up to leaving the Ponds (which he addresses is a lovely scene at the end of the story); he’s giving Lily, Cyril and Madge a Christmas to remember and fully engaging with his childlike enthusiasm (There’s no point in being grown-up if you can’t be childish sometimes, as another Doctor once said).

And this is Christmas fun – lemonade taps, hammocks, mechanical Christmas trees, dancing chairs. This is Doctor Who as a honest-to-good children’s novel. There’s obviously the CS Lewis influence but there’s bits of Roald Dahl, Enid Blyton, Philip Pulman and Anthony Browne in there too. This is how children see the Doctor – the fun, crazy uncle. The wizard. It’s how Hartnell himself saw the chracter (although a little less manic, obviously). And the characters echo the tropes. Cyril is Lucy from the Chronicles of Narnia or Charlie from Charlie and the Chocolate Factory – wide-eyed wonder and innocence. Lily is Susan and Peter from Narnia – sensible, protective and that little bit too old to be playing a teenager (Holly Earl, the actress, was about 19 and Lily is clearly supposed to be nearer 15/16).

Madge is a bit of an anomaly as usually, in this sort of story, the adults remain ignorant to the adventures of their children but there are elements of Grandpa Joe in Madge in that she enters and embraces the fantasy world. She’s a modern character really because in books like The Chronicles of Narnia, human adults from ‘our’ world are few and far between. The Doctor, of course, is Uncle Diggory who owns the eponymous wardrobe and visited the world himself once long ago.

The ‘wardrobe’ is a Christmas present and it’s huge! The stuff children’s Christmas dreams are made of. What child wouldn’t adore a box that’s a gateway to another world? Indeed, how many parent’s bemoan the fact their children spend more time playing with the box the present came in than the gift itself. And what does that box do – it becomes a cave, or a hideout, or a racing car, a spaceship or a house – a portal to a world of fantasy. Oh, look what Moffat did there….

Through the box we enter a snowy, tree-covered landscape (a complete steal from The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe) and discover a lamppost – or rather a huge tower with a strange, bulb like structure at the top. Fairy lights (the spirits of the trees) sparkle around the forest and it is reigned over by the Wooden King and Queen – creations straight out of Narnia or the Land of Oz (dryads – tree spirits – feature prominently in the Narnia stories). I love the design of these and there’s an lovely overhead shot of the Queen which shows how her crown/head is like a tree tunk sawn through with the rings showing.

The plot is simple yet effective with the trees desperately saving themselves from the coming disaster and for a Christmas day story, where no one wants anything too convoluted, it works. It also reflects the children’s novel roots (not that they’re always simplistic, of course).

Thrown into this are three comedy characters – Bill Bailey, Arabella Weir and Paul Bazely (a less well-known name, but certainly a recognisable face from various projects). They sit a little uncomfortably within the fantasy and are in and out in too short a time to really appreciate the performances (which are good). It’s almost as if Moffat felt the need to remind the viewers that this is still Doctor Who with people in space suits with big guns stomping around in a big mechanical monstrosity (and remind the fans too, by throwing in the Androzani references). It’s a bit of a shame, as I think creating some characters who fitted the tone of the story better, but still played by the same actors, wouldn’t have made them quite as forgettable as they are. As it is, poor Arabella Weir keeps getting the raw deal when it comes to her contributions to Doctor Who.

I’ll also admit that the final part of the story overdoes the sentimentality a little. The saving of Reg is a little too saccharin even for my taste but I’ll let it go as, like Moffat’s first Doctor Who script, it’s an ‘everybody lives’ story. And, actually, up to the point where he is saved, the scenes of Madge imploring not to see him dying are well-played by Claire Skinner and in Lily and Cyril’s reactions to what she is saying.

I’ve skipped over the precredits sequence. It’s completely separate from everything else, but is huge fun as the Doctor tears through an exploding spaceship and then plummets to Earth. It’s the flipside of Doctor Who’s fantasy in a nutshell and works better than the insertion of the comedy space people halfway through the story. The Doctor, literally, crashing into an ordinary person’s life also sets Claire Skinner’s Madge up in good company as that is precisely how the Doctor, particularly modern series Doctors have entered his companion’s lives. It gives the impression that, were she not so committed to her family, Madge may well seriously consider accompanying the Doctor on his universal jaunts. She certainly has the open mind and the wherewithall to cope with unusual situations. Madge Arwell isn’t often cited in the lists of ‘one-shot companions’ like Adelaide, Astrid and Christina, but I think she certainly qualifies.

So I say, give The Doctor, the Widow and the Wardrobe another chance. Watch it as a child would and enter into the wonderous world the Doctor opens for Madge, Cyril and Lily. Fans celebrate the fact that Doctor Who can be so many different things. Why can’t it be this? It’s certainly the most Christmassy Christmas special so far.