Oh, little soldier, what’s all this, then, with the weeping?

No, I’m not talking about Ncuti Gatwa. No, no, no. Not yet, anyway.

I’m referring to some of the other emotional collapses we’ve seen from the Doctor: we must ask if, in some situations, did the effect it have on the Doctor seem appropriate, with all we know of the character? Should said scenarios have affected him as seriously as they did, all things considered?

To preface this, I’ll remind you who I’m talking about. The Doctor was already hundreds of years old when we met him back in 1963. As we moved through the classic era and seven whole Doctors, the Time Lord saw death, destruction, murder, and genocide (almost committed it himself one time) on a galactic scale. He saw a LOT. A lot a lot

But aside from a moment when Pertwee seemed clinically depressed when leaving Jo’s engagement party, there were really no Doctor tears in the classic era. Of course there wouldn’t be. He’d seen it all, and no, he’s simply not human. Bottom line, it’s incredibly difficult to freak out the Doctor. To rattle him, or terrify him. It can happen; it just takes a lot. 

The Eighth Doctor might have cried when the Master slapped that crazy Clockwork Orange eye-clampy thing on him in The TV Movie, but I’ll give him that. Or maybe that would be more likely due to his eyes drying out? Hmm, not sure. Let’s move on.

We rejoin the Ninth Doctor, a somewhat unstable fella with PTSD, who sometimes lashes out and has a hard time holding in the pain and loneliness of being the Last of the Time Lords. There are a few anguish-filled moments, a couple of times when he looked on the verge of tears, whether it was celebrating the time when “Everybody Lives!” or standing up to Daleks, but he held it together. 

Then we come to David Tennant’s Tenth Doctor. When you get a new body, it’s usually a totally different person from the last one, but this Doctor had some temper flare-ups as well. Even with the new body, I’m prepared to cut him some slack, because it really did seem like he still hadn’t shaken the PTSD, and he was alone and vulnerable.

Okay, so he got all mushy with Rose, even though he’s not human and it really doesn’t work that way for Time Lords. Russell likes his sex, his romance, and his soap operas. PTSD:

• Patronise
• The
• Showrunner
• David. 

So, okay, when Rose gets cast out to another reality, and her clown makeup is running down her cheeks, then later on the beach, the Doctor sheds a tear. Okay, granted. She’s a mess, he’s a mess, his world’s dead. I’ll give him a tear. 

And when he has to hide from the Family of Blood, and turns into a human, and is told he basically has to commit suicide to become some guy he didn’t even know existed… Sure, he’s going to make with the waterworks, because he’s pretty much an innocent victim here. John Smith wasn’t a 900-year-old Time Lord; he was simply a teacher. An ordinary man who had wicked bowling skills. 

John Smith could cry all he wants. 

Then the crazy Master shows up, puts the Doctor, Martha, her family, Jack, the human race, the future human race, and entire entire planet Earth through all kinds of unimaginable hell and torture. And when the Master’s beaten, abused, and god knows what else’s, and his wife shoots him — no one shed a tear.

Except the Doctor, who had tears running down his face as he cradled the psychotic, mass murderer’s head in his lap; he begged and pleaded for his old friend to heal himself. 

This would not be the first example of the Doctor showing such compassion for this genocidal monster. But yeah, he cried for him as well. Was it loneliness? Selfishness? Sorry, old friend or not, the Master didn’t deserve any tears or compassion. The mere fact that he fell apart so completely says something about how much higher he values the Master than he does anyone else. Strange tears of betrayal. Highly inappropriate tears. That’s One in the Tearful Tally.

But of course that brings us to The End of Time, where we had to witness the Tenth Doctor weeping and whining to Wilf in a café about how he’s going to die (he wasn’t — just regenerating). I’m sorry, but this was beyond the pale. Later, he’d go on to have his temper tantrum, and mewl about not wanting to go. The whole sequence was unseemly. That’s Two.

Along came the Eleventh Doctor, and he was doing his thing wonderfully, acting like the ancient young being he was… until Amy left. Good lord, get the mop.

Susan. Barbara. Ian. Jamie. Jo. Sarah Jane. All companions and friends that meant the world to the Doctor. When each of them left, of course the Doctor was very sad, but when you put their leaving in perspective, they were usually going off to live their lives. More importantly, they were no longer going to be constantly risking their lives just by being near the Doctor. You’d think he’d be relieved.

But the Eleventh Doctor collapses into the biggest heap of waterworks, that would even make Wilf look away in embarrassment. All because he won’t be able to see her anymore. 

Which I say is rubbish on so many levels. He couldn’t go back to 1938 New York to see them. But if he was so entirely, irrationally uncharacteristically inconsolable, for goodness sake, pop back to 1940 England or wherever else they may have moved afterward!

If he could track Jo through the Amazon, he can follow Amy and Rory’s travel plans. And what, no tears for Rory? Come on. Pathetic. I’m sorry, but again, he’s an 1,100 year old Time Lord. He shouldn’t be blubbering that badly. That’s Three.

We then move to when he first finds out about Trenzalore. This was especially bizarre and confusing. He finds out where he’s allegedly going to be buried. And he starts blubbering out of nowhere. I found this unexpected breakdown curious and puzzling. Self pity is really not flattering on him. That’s Four.

Frankly, I expected better of Steven Moffat. We all know RTD couldn’t help but turn the Doctor into a very Un-Time Lord-like Time Lord; indeed, Russell did almost everything he could to turn the Doctor into a human, sexualised being. That included a lot of uncontrollable, incongruous crying. I was really surprised Moffat allowed that, but I suspect it was down to each actor, and how they wanted to play the scene, matched up against how they think the Doctor would react. And it’s perhaps very telling how each of these actors interpreted and then performed these emotional moments.

But…. at least the Eleventh Doctor handles the rest of that incarnation with a dignity and steadfastness to be admired. Of course, at that point, with the Daleks ready to blast his feeble, 2,000-year-old body, he didn’t really care anymore. He was ready to go. 

No tears.

So when the Time Lords gave him a new set of regenerations, one could only imagine if he actually welcomed more of all this ongoing chaos.

We missed the War Doctor’s run as he destroyed Gallifrey, all the other Time Lords and Daleks at the end of the Time War. If ever there was a time for the Doctor to give in to crying, that was it. But here’s where acting comes in. When we finally meet John Hurt’s War Doctor, he conveys all the weariness and pain we need. No weeping necessary.

With the Twelfth Doctor, we saw passion, anger, humour, wit, wisdom, and a new perspective on everything. And although there were no crying jags, he did get a slightly bit misty twice. First, when Clara was about to die, and then when he was going to spend that final night with River before saying goodbye. But this Doctor didn’t need a wet face to express the emotion.

The Twelfth Doctor’s talk with an outraged Bill in Thin Ice is perhaps the best look into the Doctor’s soul and what he’s gone through during his long life. Put in perspective, a situation that might be life-changing, mind-blowing or cataclysmic to you and I? The Doctor eats that for breakfast. Absolutely everything affects the Doctor far differently than it would you and me. It would take quite a bit to shock or frighten the Doctor. 

Much like in Hurt’s performance, Peter Capaldi knew how to show the right level of emotion through those ancient Time Lord eyes without losing control as would a human.

It turns out, the Thirteenth Doctor was made of sterner stuff than either Tenth or Eleventh, only shedding a single tear with Yaz and a single tear when faced with a newly destroyed Gallifrey, courtesy of the even crazier Master MK II. All things considered, not bad. And by all means, if I’ve missed instances of crying anywhere, chime in. 

Which brings us to the Fifteenth Doctor. 

He’s been referred to as the “Crying Doctor”, “Doctor Boo Who”, and many more colourful names. Though I think it’s important to note that to date, he really hasn’t completely fallen to pieces — he came close with Sutehk — but the instances of his crying, although far more constant, have actually been far more restrained than Tennant’s or Smith’s examples! Go figure.

Usually, he manifests his sadness with a single tear in most every episode, and it’s been confirmed by Davies that it’s Ncuti’s choice to cry, regardless of the scene, no matter the intensity or how tear-worthy the scenes may or may not be. The man has healthy tear ducts.

So I would say perspective is the key here. An immortal Time Lord who’s seen everything in the universe— exactly how emotionally tender and vulnerable would he be after all this time? 

And if such an ancient creature could still even be susceptible to such emotional frailty, is constant, yet restrained weeping better or worse than occasionally imploding into a whiny, pity puddle? 

Grab a hanky and discuss.