Episode 2 of the revitalized Doctor Who season 1, envisioned for the year 2024, kicks off in the charming year of 1925. As the piano melodies float through the air, the enigmatic Maestro appears, gracefully correcting Timothy Drake, the instructor, on his pronouns. Their flamboyant antics are a spectacle to behold, and with a deft hand, they pluck a melody straight from the heart of Drake's composition. Once satiated, the Maestro turns to the camera, captivating us all with a rendition of the iconic Doctor Who theme.
Inside the TARDIS, Ruby expresses her eager desire to witness the Beatles as they record their maiden album. The Doctor, equally intrigued, wonders why he's never indulged in such a fascinating excursion before. So, on the fateful day of February 11th, 1963, they attire themselves appropriately and traverse Abbey Road, en route to the birthplace of musical magic.
Upon their arrival at EMI Studios, they make their way to the Recording Studio and encounter the Fab Four. However, the scene is strangely dissimilar to the one they envisioned. The Beatles' songs are... well... lackluster, to put it mildly. Even the atmosphere in the studio is awry, with Cilla and the vast orchestra out of sync.
The Doctor's keen observation reveals a profound shift in humanity, manifesting in the decline of music's quality. He engages the Beatles in a heartfelt conversation, discovering that Paul and John are dismayed, finding singing a humiliating experience. The entire band agrees that their pursuit is futile, and the arts no longer offer a viable career path. It seems that waltzes and their ilk have been relegated to the dustbin of history, relegated to the 20s and 30s. Yet, the latent talent within them still shines, albeit suppressed beneath a veil of despair.
At that moment, the Maestro's reflection flickers in a mirror, a testament to the fleeting spark of brilliance. The Doctor senses a disturbance in the timeline, and his gaze shifts to the sky, revealing a mammoth smog, far worse than what we know today. This environmental degradation is a testament to the relentless surge in industrialization. The absence of love songs, he realizes, is altering the fabric of the timeline itself.
Upon the rooftop's peak, the Doctor commands Ruby's fingers to dance across the keys, creating a melody that's pure bliss. Its enchanting tune instantly dispels gloom, infusing listeners with a renewed sense of joy. But just as the harmony peaks, the Maestro strides out from the shadows, her gaze fixed on the piano. Realizing the battle is beyond him, the Doctor swiftly devises a plan, urging Ruby to flee with him into the sanctuary of the basement.
This marks the second time the Doctor has sought refuge, a pattern that begs the question: what does he truly fear? Down in the depths, the Doctor unleashes his Sonic, a device that emits a blinding light, silencing the world around it. It's a temporary respite, but the Maestro's tuning fork soon cuts through the silence, challenging the Doctor's prowess.
Desperate and defeated, the Doctor watches helplessly as the Maestro departs, leaving him to ponder the mystery of her music-stealing prowess. As the world edges closer to ruin, the Doctor and Ruby journey into the year 2024, where a devastated landscape stands as a testament to the Maestro's wrath.
The Maestro appears, her fingers gliding gracefully over the piano keys, her voice filled with venom as she speaks of her "Daddy." The slang term hangs heavy in the air, leaving the question of this tale's suitability for younger audiences hanging precariously.
But the Doctor, a man of science and logic, realizes that the Maestro's power can be neutralized through the right chords. He doesn't rewind time to alter the past, as many might expect. Instead, he finds himself in 1963, a decade ripe with musical revolution.
Racing back to the studio, the Doctor seizes Lennon's guitar, seeking the elusive Notes of Banishment that could end the Maestro's reign. But with over 66 trillion possibilities, finding the right chord seems like a needle in a haystack. Just then, the Maestro captures Ruby, her voice twisting Ruby's song notes into a web of entrapment.
Undeterred, the Doctor employs his Sonic and strides into the auditorium, ready to face the Maestro. As the Maestro taunts Ruby, claiming her music speaks to heartbroken lesbians, Ruby's fingers find a "lost song" within her soul - a Christmas tune that echoed through the night she was born.
The Doctor plays a series of notes, hoping to find the Lost Chord that will banish the Maestro. But a wrong note rings out, and suddenly, he is trapped within the confines of a drum, while Ruby Rose finds herself imprisoned within the hollow of a guitar.
Regarding the piano that gracefully glided out of the room, it was Paul and John, standing outside, who skillfully plucked a few harmonious chords, thus completing the elusive Lost Chord and vanquishing the menacing Maestro. As order was restored, and with the Maestro vanquished, they gestured, just before disappearing into the depths of the piano, that "The One Who Waits" was imminent. So, how does this captivating episode conclude? Surely, with a rousing musical number. Is it perhaps a bit awkward, as the notion suggests? Indeed, it is. But this is Disney's Doctor Who, my companions; did any of us truly anticipate anything other than this?
