This was an episode of two halves. A classic Chibnall Era Message™ – heavy-handed, trite, performative – and a somewhat competent Doctor Who plot mixed together to create the generally dissatisfying Can You Hear Me?

First, the meat of the episode. A god who feasts on nightmares who targets and tricks the Doctor in to releasing another of his species – good stuff. Ian Gelder’s performance as Zellin gave him a fairly creepy and threatening air, and his dialogue was more poetic than the usual gruel that the Chibnall era passes down to its characters. The image of the detaching fingers is an enjoyably unusual one; those same fingers being stuck in ears even more unusual, but quite possibly tipping over the line of scary to silly. The gods’ final defeat is rushed; while Doctor Who is no stranger to a rushed conclusion, it’s dissatisfying to see another instance of it.

But it’s difficult to separate the base plot from the Mental Health™ message of the episode. It’s becoming increasingly apparent that the Chibnall era has Things To Say™, but these things are said for the sake of it. Rosa was cynically designed to Start A Conversation™ and was lauded in the media as having done so, but the message was little more than Racism is Bad. Orphan 55’s message was that Climate Change is Bad. Praxeus’s (not as hamfisted, admittedly) message is that Plastic Pollution is Bad. And we can add Can You hear Me? to that august body of episodes with Things To Say – that if you have Mental Health issues, you should speak to somebody. This is, perhaps, a marginally more complex message than Mental Health Issues are Bad, but it’s as anodyne as an NHS leaflet stuck to a GP surgery’s wall. It is the most basic bit of advice to give someone with ‘Mental Health issues’ – and that generalistic term is exactly how the episode sees mental health. There’s no consideration that people have different and specific mental health issues – PTSD, depression, anxiety, and bipolar disorder are all mental health issues but they manifest and are treated in different ways. And yes, ‘speak to someone’ is a generally useful piece of advice, but to leave the message there and bask in the media glow, as if we’ve said something groundbreaking and really worthy, is borderline offensive. It’s the twisting of very real issues into another trophy on the wall – another subject Doctor Who has ‘tackled’ without saying anything new, interesting, or controversial. Just a social issue raised for the sake of being raised. ‘Just make it, really,’ as Christopher Chibnall would say. And so I find it frustrating when, as the credits roll, we’re told that if we’ve been affected by any of the issues raised tonight, we can ring this helpline number.

But what issues were raised?

Ryan’s newly-established friend Tibo said, vaguely, that he feels down sometimes. Nobody dares mention the word ‘depressed’, though. And don’t worry, because he’s fine by the end of the episode – he’s found people to talk to. We’ll likely never see him again, and if we do he’ll be fine.

 Yaz ran away from home because she was being bullied, and ignored by her parents. Was she suicidal? Was she never going to come back, or did she just want to escape for a bit, be noticed? We don’t know because this show barely functions on a dramatic level. And of course none of this has been suggested or hinted at before, because it’s been made up for this episode in a desperate, pathetic attempt to give Yaz some depth. It has never informed her insipid, dull character and it never will again. Just like how she mentioned being called a Paki or going to the mosque in Rosa, this will be brushed under the carpet again, a mere function to give the illusion of dramatic purpose.

So in terms of actual issues raised we have the absolute vaguest hint of depression and what is essentially a question mark over Yaz. And yet the BBC smugly pats itself on the back, sticking a helpline number because we might have been affected by the Very Important Issues Raised Tonight. Take a look at the BBC’s Action Line website, which ‘offers information and support for issues covered in our recent programmes’. First, look at some of the issues raised in other programmes: cancer, bereavement, domestic abuse, sexual abuse. What has Doctor Who raised, according to the BBC itself? Mental health.

It says it all.

The Doctor’s final weird turn with Graham bears commenting on. Graham opens up to the Doctor about his fears about his cancer coming back – something he’s never mentioned before, but whatever – and she shuffles off awkwardly, citing her social awkwardness as limiting her ability to think of something to say. I’m less critical of this scene than many other reactions I’ve seen. I don’t think the intention was bad. Talking about these things can be difficult on either side, and there is often an awkwardness on the part of the one not suffering, given that they’ve got no direct experience. So I get that, and Graham seemed to take it well enough – the Doctor didn’t mean it cruelly, and making light of the issue or acknowledging its inherent awkwardness can in itself be a meaningful contribution. But where I think this scene fails is in its handling of this Doctor’s character. The Whittaker Doctor is supposed to be defined by her empathy, her listening skills, her sheer humanity – ‘gone is the daffiness and idiosyncrasy of her predecessors’, as Piers Wenger commented, throwing the previous eras and Doctors under the bus in a cynical and unprofessional attempt to promote Chibnall and Whittaker. This Doctor should have something wise, something kind, to say. The show is confusing her alien-ness and her occasional lack of tact with an inability deal with social situations.

Nothing new for this era, I suppose.