Rose

The story has a very fitting title in the event, as it's very much the new companion it names who serves as the focal point for its audience, especially those who haven't seen the series before. Rose Tyler and her everyday life is set up in the opening minutes as the norm which the Doctor's invasive presence subverts. The technique of showing speeded up vehicles whooshing through streets and so on may not be especially novel nowadays, but together with the montage of shots of Rose getting up in an untidy bedroom, of her wandering uninterestedly through her workplace and giggling at her boyfriend's antics during her lunch break, they help to build up enough of a snapshot of her daily existence in a relatively short time, to make the intended point.

Rose's life, on the strength of what we're shown, is tolerable but uninspiring. She has a fairly banal job at a clothes store, a boyfriend who can entertain and comfort her but who could possibly also be little more than a means of distracting her from her otherwise humdrum existence, in which one day doesn't necessarily differ much from another. All of this is straightforward enough, easily comprehensible to the average television audience, and not tinged with anything fantastical. A standard Cinderella sort of situation in a way. It's the sudden arrival of the Doctor who shakes this order up very quickly, both for the character within the drama, and for any newcomers to the series who are watching, by exposing the ordinariness of Rose's life as not being a true reflection of the nature of things within this fictive world.

So, for a new audience especially (and, apart from the Telemovie, this is the only television story that was specifically tasked with attracting one, as opposed to simply maintaining or improving an already existing audience base), a possible reaction could be "Who is this strange man? How does he know about these shop window dummies and aliens? Where's he from? How far can we trust him?" and so on, filtered through Rose's own bewilderment at him. It's not merely what the Doctor says, his casually dismissive attitude to her own mode of life ("Go home...go on... back to your beans on toast") coupled with an apparent conviction that he has more important concerns which are far beyond humanity's collective understanding, but his actions too. The most striking is his blowing up the shop Rose works in to neutralise the threat housed there, an event which is clearly bound to change Rose's life (if only by forcing her to look for other work), to say nothing of anyone else employed there. He even drops a few sinister-sounding hints on occasion, such as warning her not to tell anyone about what she's seen in case she gets herself killed.

This is also a reason for using Clive. Partly a send-up of fans maintaining websites on the series, and partly a send-up of online conspiracy theorists, his character is an interesting means of emphasizing the mysterious nature of the Doctor to Rose, and the new viewers (even if the photoshopping for the faked photos isn't all that good). The fact that he seems such an unassuming and slightly bumbling man, harmless and earnest, lends an extra edge to the ominous tone he adopts when suggesting that the Doctor is a harbinger of death.

People with prior knowledge of the series, on the other hand, are far more likely to have been watching this from the point of view of the Doctor, that is, thinking in terms of how he reacts to Jackie and Rose's rather insular little world, picking up on the odd shot or two of the TARDIS parked on streets or in the Pizza Hut yard. They can react knowingly to Rose rushing past it without a second thought, or her bewilderment when it is seen to have vanished from the point she left the Doctor, and her extreme reluctance to use it as a shelter in the yard, despite the Doctor's apparent confidence in it. The established audience knows what's on its way at this stage, the new one can experience the surprises with her.

Of course, there is also the potential difference in the way these audiences might perceive Christopher Eccleston's Doctor. To those who already know the series of old, he's a very decided break from the norm, visibly differing from what had become the mutated stereotypes used in comedy send-ups. No extravagance in the way he dresses, nothing whimsical or theatrical, no contrived bright colours or excesses. It might be fair to say that there had been at least two major stereotypical images for the character in people's minds up to this stage, those being a sort of romantic nineteenth century gentleman look (as seen in various glossy period dramas, and most obviously exemplified in Paul McGann's version), or a more garish and unreal style, often over-designed (which probably owed much to memories of the original series' Doctors from Tom onwards). Eccleston's image is rigorously pared to the bone however, striking in its no-frills-no-fuss dourness. There's nothing about the minimalist and dark-toned clothes, or the closely cropped short hair, which attract any extra attention to him or allow any distraction from the acting performance. It also happens to suit Eccleston as an actor very well, being defiantly unglamorous and low-key, in keeping with his own image and style.

The actual personality he brings to the Doctor is not as humourless as the above might imply though, but the sense of fun he does display is of a rough, cheeky type, casually superior and secretive, brushing aside Rose's determined attempts to find out exactly who he is and what he's up to, and only letting out a little information at a time, before still warning her to go home. The extended sequence which tracks them leaving Rose's flat and walking all the way through the estate back to the TARDIS is his defining scene in this story, with rose struggling to keep up, and the Doctor cheerfully batting away her questions.

As to how well Rose and her associates are characterised, her mother Jackie does come across as a little stereotyped, partly because she is obviously intended to represent the incurious hidebound attitudes that Rose (ultimately) opts to reject. She seems to think in terms of getting instant rewards for the least effort, as witnessed by her persistent keenness for Rose to capitalise on what's happened for both money and publicity purposes, and to get financial compensation, even though Rose herself shows little interest in either. Her apparent attempt to interest the Doctor in her sexually could also be read as implying that she is used to trying to extract the maximum advantage from any situation by making use of whatever is available to her at the time. At that point, she still believes that he is in a position to arrange financial compensation for Rose, so possibly thinks that seducing him might encourage him to make a more generous settlement. However, she does react instantly in wide-eyed fashion on seeing him, so it could easily just be a genuine physical attraction.

Because Rose's function is mostly to react to events as they happen, the character can often be pushed into a rather passive role. She can be mainly defined by the fact that she wants out of her old life, and shows an increasing reluctance to let her mother or her boyfriend hold her back. Her conversation with the Mickey-duplicate indicates that she has a history of wasted opportunities and regrets, and feels frustrated at the unpromising choices her life seems to be being forced into. Her little soliloquy about having no conventional qualifications (just a bronze in gymnastics) before rescuing the Doctor feels forced and unnatural, because it's making the point (that the Doctor has inspired her to make some positive action, to make a real difference and resolve the situation) a bit too obviously, telling rather than showing.

Mickey is in an unfortunate situation, because although he comes over as quite a likeable person, with some positive attributes (he's kind and loyal to Rose, and feels protective of her when she's about to meet a stranger she's only just contacted via email), there are also hints that he is taking her for granted (using the excuse of taking her out as a means to going to a match, for instance) and his appeal for Rose to leave the Doctor is clearly intended to show that he's not yet as enlightened as she is in terms of avoiding the easy option. This is presumably also the reason for the Doctor's harsh "He's not invited" when inviting Rose aboard, given that otherwise he's barely met him. The character's cowering in fear at the end is also probably supposed to be a contrast with Rose's gutsy determination (interesting too that their roles have effectively been reversed from that scene where Rose meets Clive and Mickey has nominated himself as her protector).

The story's handling of its main threat is variable. While the scenes at the beginning, with the creeping mannequins advancing on Rose, are quite well done, and the attack at the climax of the story has a commendable urgency for the brief screen time it gets, the Auton Mickey duplicate doesn't really come off that well, because it looks too false for it to be likely that Rose wouldn't notice the change (most obviously his hair, although his sudden apparent deterioration in driving skills must surprise her as well), and there doesn't seem to be any good reason for it to be talking to Rose like a damaged record in the Pizza Hut. The computer generated effect of the wheelie bin swallowing up Mickey is good in the sense that it's obviously better than most of the effects from the original series, although you can still tell that it is an effect. It's also a shame that the bin is seen to burp after swallowing him, as it feels misjudged and stuck-on, a bit of facetiousness included more for its own sake than any good reason and not really funny enough to justify it. The scenes with the Doctor confronting the Nestene Consciousness are slightly spoiled by the fact that his struggle with the mannequins goes on too long (the previously fast pace of the episode begins to falter at this stage), although they're played with gusto, Eccleston practically shouting himself hoarse with desperation. They come over a bit like a more dramatic version of the Tom Baker/Erato scenes in Creature From The Pit, only in orange/red lighting rather than green, and a better realised monster. The actual resolution (antiplastic) is essentially a convenient plot device to switch the story off, but then much the same was true of Spearhead, along with several other stories from the original series.

Overall, a fairly glossy and simplistic episode which mostly succeeds in establishing the new format and characters vividly enough, as well as telling a passable story.