Regeneration is one of the most distinctive elements of Doctor Who. For a series that has lasted for over sixty years, there’s been remarkably little change within “Doctor Who.” Yes, the cast changes routinely, and some seasons have an arc, but the bare bones of the series – a Time traveler travelling through time and space with human companion(s) exploring new worlds and helping people – remain as consistent in 1963-1964 as they are in 2024.  A story like “The Daleks” or “The Aztecs” still covers the same ground that “The Giggle” or “Rosa” did sixty years later. 

Since the initial regeneration scene at the end of “The Tenth Planet” episode 4, we as fans have become used to it.  Doctor Who fans go through the cycle when we hear of a new regeneration. First we are uncertain, accepting them, and then preparing for the time they too will regenerate.  Regeneration is normal now – but what was it like for people back in 1966? 

This article explores the multiple factors in Doctor Who that lead to the first Regeneration, or Renewal as it was initially known. In particular we will look at how audiences and texts of the time attempted to explain and understand the change.

Underling issues in 1965

This conflict came to a boil with 1966’s “The Celestial Toymaker.”

The Regeneration That Never Was

In “The Celestial Toymaker” the evil Toymaker forces the Doctor to play his games. Out of frustration for breaking rules, the Toymaker makes the Doctor invisible for most of the story. Producer John Wiles planned for the Doctor to be permanently changed in this process, with William Hartnell not returning. Only the objection of the Head of Serials, Gerald Savory, at the time prevented this plan from coming.  John Wiles, and his script editor, Donald Tosh, finding the working relationship with Hartnell irreconcilable, resigned. They were replaced by Innes Lloyd and Gerry Pedler respectively.   

Hartnell’s health was deteriorating also at the time, though it was not known.  He had undiagnosed arteriosclerosis, a condition which restricted blood flow to the brain. This resulted in Hartnell experiencing difficulty remembering long passages and irritability from these memory gaps. 

Hartnell disclosed some of these pressures in an interview to the Daily Mail on April 26, 1966. In this interview, Hartnell expressed feelings of irritation with people. Discussing the production team, Hartnell explained he knew his role and did not want their interruptions and alterations.  The Producer at the time, John Wiles, was not aware of Hartnell’s illness. Subsequently, Wiles had seen Hartnell’s memory lapses and moods as an act, further antagonizing their relationship. 

Despite these issues, Hartnell states in the interview the BBC would continue the series as long as Hartnell remained.  Hartnell however wanted to have more time off, and more space to recover.  Noticeably around 1966, Hartnell’s Doctor is frequently missing in episodes. Health issues and holidays meant Hartnell had a reduced role in most stories from “The Massacre” onwards.  

Alongside these internal stressors, reviews externally began to criticize the program.  The Daily Worker in 1966 described the series as “showing signs of age” and that  “Youngsters are getting tired of it”

But the way he was to change was still to be determined.

Introducing Regeneration

The term “Regeneration” itself did not occur at this time in the series.  Two regenerations later in “Planet of the Spiders” this process was officially named as regeneration.  Initially, in production discussions, the action was described as “Renewal.”
It is not exactly clear who first developed the idea of how the Doctor was to change form. However, it is most likely to have come from discussions between Innes Lloyd and Script Editor Gerry Davis.  Production notes at the time focus mostly on the character of the new Doctor, with little about the change itself.  What the Production team did envisage was a change which occurred every 900 years or so, feeling:

As if he has had the LSD drug and instead of experiencing the kicks, he has the hell and dank horror

Initial Interpretations of the First Regeneration

The Doctor Who Annual 1968 is a fascinating snap shot into how the change initially by the public of 1967.  Annuals were produced around the middle of the year, to give to children at Christmas time. In the sixties, annuals were one of the few examples of Doctor Who media available.  There were no books, very few novelizations, and definitely no audio plays.  If you wanted further adventures with the Doctor, or to read about Doctor Who the series, the annual was almost your only option. 

For the 1968 Annual, we have a few first ever events.  It is the first time the Annuals would feature television companions alongside the Doctor, with Ben and Polly appearing.  And of course, this is the first annual which featured Patrick Troughton’s Doctor as main character.

Reading through it, it seems the authors did watch Troughton’s first story “Power of the Daleks” but no further. Popular companion Jamie (Introduced in Troughton’s second story), does not appear. Troughton’s costume from his first story, features in all images, despite the costume not being used again.

Also in the annual, there is an article entitled “Phoenix in the TARDIS.” This article compares the mythological creature of the Phoenix from Arabic folklore, with the new Doctor as “Our Modern Phoenix.” The article describes the change as follows:

At the end of nine hundred years, a strange psychological storm rejuvenated his form, changing his character in many ways

The article describes the new Doctor as more “with it” and “switched on” to the 20^th century. The Doctor is less likely to confide in companions, and more likely to be a man of action. Surprisingly, this article is the first time regeneration is used in Doctor Who, with the conclusion pondering “What lies ahead for the regenerated Doctor.”

What’s interesting about this article is how the act of regeneration isn’t seen as an event that will reoccur.  Instead, this is an event that needs almost a millennia to actually come about.  Troughton planned to leave the role longer than three years, but he also doubted the series would last this long.  Troughton was interviewed later he admitted he thought the change to Hartnell would lead to a cancellation within a year.  Even when Troughton did leave after three years, changing the Doctor again was only considered as an alternative to cancellation when suitable alternative series could not be found. 

Audience reactions, gathered by the BBC were not positive to the change.  Audience feedback during his first story reviewed Troughton as being miscast as the Doctor. The media, while initially curious about the change, became increasingly critical of Troughton during the first season.  The Daily Worker on Janaury 25^th 1967 reported that while Hartnell would bring dignity to the party in stories, Troughton’s clownish person only amplifies the nonsense.  The radio times meanwhile interviewed a member of the public, decrying Troughton as turning the Doctor into “Coco the Clown”

Long Term Acceptance of Regeneration

Troughton’s Doctor was eventually accepted as his first season moved away from historical stories, and towards images of the future.  The Cybermen’s return in “The Moonbase” in particular had some critics changing their appraisal of this new era.  At the same time, cast changes, with Frazer Hines, joining the cast, added to reasons audiences enjoyed the series more. 

However, that does not mean regeneration was accepted as normal.  After three years, Troughton announced his departure from the program.  With six full years completed, the BBC discussed completing the series, and replacing with something new, with an idea of being influenced by the new series “Star Trek” being discussed. 

Instead with “Planet of the Spiders” we have the first regeneration where the process was paid attention to.  The idea of regeneration coming about when a body faces significant damage or trauma is first referenced in this story.  The idea of being reborn rather than rejuvenated is expressly stated in this story. 

Final Thoughts

Looking back at the production notes for Hartnell’s final story, it’s surprising how little information or consideration went into it.  Even now, we’re not entirely sure who exactly came up with the idea of regeneration.  Likely no single person can ever claim credit to the full idea.  John Wiles original idea of the Doctor being transformed by the Celestial Toymaker undoubtedly had an influence by raising the idea of changing the Doctor but keeping the series, even though the change only occurred after he had resigned. 

When looking at the past, it’s important to remember that while regeneration for the modern series is just a process of adapting to a cast change, in 1966, regeneration was a risk taken by a series trying to survive.  The producers wanted little attention to be focused on the change, and instead to move on quickly with a new actor, and hence very little description or detail went into the change. 

And that, in part, is why for Doctor Who regeneration was so successful, and determined the longevity of the series to this day.  If William Hartnell had been replaced by the Celestial Toymaker, with the process being a consequence of running afoul of an evil God like character, such a precise process would have been difficult to repeat for later cast changes without being obviously repetitive.  By keeping the idea of regeneration in Doctor Who vague it allowed mythology to develop around it as needed either by a production crew, or as needed for a story. 

Regeneration was created for Doctor Who to respond to an actor’s decaying health, and intense conflict within a production team.  But it continues by allowing a constant refresh and re-invigoration of the series, while keeping its base format the same. 

‘Then I made faces like the faces on the rocks, and I twisted myself about like the twisted ones, and I lay down flat on the ground like the dead ones…’

Published in October 2019, The Twisted Ones by T Kingfisher is a modern folkloric, occult horror. Better known for her fairytale retellings, The Twisted Ones is a retelling of Arthur Machen’s 1904 pulp horror classic, ‘The White People’. T. Kingfisher uses her creative license to delve into the myth of the twisted ones, who exist in a specific part of the woods in rural North Carolina. Everyone living near these woods knows something about the white people. Many have seen them, or one of their creations, but all know to stay away.

The Story.

When Mouse is asked by her father to clean out her deceased grandmother’s house, she packs her lovable coonhound Bongo into her truck and heads to the house she has not visited since childhood. Entering the house though, she discovers the job may not be as easy as she thought. Grandma appears to have become a hoarder before she was placed in a care home. There is an entire room of dolls and the stairs are completely blocked by boxes of who knows what. Mouse decides she is up for the task and so begins filling garbage bags. She needs money from the house sale after all.

While emptying her step-grandfather Cotgrave’s bedroom, Mouse uncovers his journal and decides to give it a read. Mouse is a freelance editor and cannot help herself.  The journal discusses the existence of the twisted ones, the white people, earworms, and a strange green book that Cotgrave once possessed. There are direct quotes from this book, as he remembers them, and his ideas about interpreting it.  Mouse puts the journal aside, writing it off as the ramblings of a man suffering from dementia with racist leanings.

After finding what she calls an effigy hanging in the woods, and then stumbling upon a bald hill that shouldn’t exist, Mouse is drawn back to the journal. Further reading however does not help her. The eerie lines from the journal begin to repeat themselves in her head and unnatural-looking things start to tap at the windows late at night.

Highlights.

Bongo. Enough said. Named after the antelope, not the drum. Mouse’s loveable, sometimes brainless but very charismatic coonhound won my heart. T. Kingfisher has done such a wonderful job characterizing this animal and setting up the bond between Mouse and Bongo, this adds to the overall tense feeling of the story as they both enter risky situations. It is not a spoiler that the dog survives. Mouse makes sure to tell us that all ends well for both of them in the first chapter.

Another highlight are T. Kingfisher’s effigies, descriptions of which are both horrifying and beautiful. The idea of being able to tie, nail, or string together organic and inorganic parts and have a moving creature is bone-chilling (pun intended). But it is the way she describes their movement, the staggering and swaying. There is a strange sadness about them, whilst they still come across as sinister and threatening.

Drawbacks.

It is hard to fault this story, perhaps the slow build of the beginning half of the book is the only thing worth noting. T. Kingfisher takes her sweet time discussing the state of Mouse’s grandmother’s house and Mouse dwells on the fact that she has to clean the place up. There is a lot of complaining and the trips to the truck and the dump become repetitive. That being said, this slow build adds to the overall sense of foreboding in the story and should be expected by readers familiar with folkloric horror.

The Final Take.

This book left me feeling unsettled and getting to the ending was the only way I could resolve that feeling. I couldn’t put the book down simply because I needed closure so the sense of dread would resolve itself. I will never hear the children’s rhyme, ‘sticks and stones may break my bones’ again without chills.

With Season Two of Ann Rice’s Mayfair Witches coming out sometime later this year, I thought it was time for me to check it out. Though I’ve never been a big Ann Rice fan, I thought for sure that a story about witchcraft would be something different. Perhaps it would be less dull, less dramatic, and a bit more fun.

It was not

Just the facts

Released in January of 2023 on AMC, Mayfair Witches is based on the Ann Rice series, Lives of the Mayfair Witches. It follows the tale of Rowan Fielding. Adopted as a baby, Rowan discovers that she’s the heir to a powerful witch family. She’s eventually lured to New Orleans, where she learns more about her forgotten family and the secrets that she’s already a part of.

What Mayfair Witches got right

The first thing that I noticed about the show is the key necklace that several characters wear and carry throughout the show. I appreciated that. For those who don’t know, a key is one of the symbols of a deity known as Hekate. This is a goddess many witches hold a lot of fondness for, as She is considered the goddess of witches, among other things. So I liked seeing her represented.

I also liked that so much of this first season was set in New Orleans. There are many places in America that are strong in witch history and lore, but few are as well known for it as New Orleans. So they got that much right, at least.

What Mayfair Witches got wrong

Unfortunately, that was about all there was to enjoy about Mayfair Witches. I honestly struggled to get through it, if I’m being totally honest.

First, as I’ve mentioned before, witchcraft is not something that must be passed down from parent to child. While your ancestry can play a role in your magic, if you want it to, it’s not the only or even the most important factor. I am the first witch in my family, and I do just fine.

My second complaint is also a complaint about the show in general. Mayfair Witches is not a joyful show. It’s not a funny show. It is a show that takes itself very seriously as it talks about very serious things without a spark of levity or joy anywhere to be seen. Even the party scene in the first episode, The Witching Hour, seems more ominous than fun. No one seems like they’re having a good time. Rather, they all seem like they’re trying very hard to look like they’re having a good time.

This is a problem I have with Rice’s work in general, but it’s especially insulting when we’re talking about witchcraft. Witchcraft is joyful. It’s warm. It’s fiery and passionate. Sometimes it’s serious ritual work, but it’s also laughing when your tarot cards roast you. It’s getting together with friends over the sabbats and sharing good food. It’s making a tea with a spell whispered into it. It’s protecting and providing for yourself and those you love.

There was none of that in Mayfair Witches. There is no joy, or warmth, or giving oneself space and tools for healing. There is no happiness here. And that’s just not witchcraft to me.

Nor, frankly, is it entertaining television.

Finally, I have one last bone to pick with this show. It’s made clear during this season that Rowan has no choice about being a witch. But that’s the opposite of the whole point of witchcraft.

Being a witch is a choice like I said in my Supernatural review. You are not, cannot be a witch unless you decide that you are. No bloodline or initiation is more important to your craft than saying publicly or privately that you are a witch.

In the end, I can’t in good faith recommend Mayfair Witches to you. It’s dull, it takes itself too seriously, and it’s a rather grim depiction of magic in general. If you enjoyed it, I’m happy for you. But as for me, I’ll give it a pass. There are far more interesting stories being told.

(1.5 / 5)