Some episodes of Doctor Who are grand, sweeping epics that redefine the show’s mythology. Others are quiet, small-scale stories that take place on an ordinary street, focusing on the lives of everyday people. Fear Her, first broadcast on June 24, 2006, falls into the latter category. Written by Matthew Graham and directed by Euros Lyn, the episode is a simple, low-budget tale with an intriguing concept—childhood fears manifesting as a real threat—but it struggles to fully realize its potential.
Set in 2012, on the day of the London Olympics opening ceremony, Fear Her introduces us to a quiet residential street where children have begun disappearing without a trace. There are no grand alien invasions, no dystopian futures—just an ordinary neighborhood with an unsettling mystery. The Doctor and Rose arrive to investigate, immediately sensing that something is off. The atmosphere is oddly subdued, with nervous parents and an eerie silence that hangs over the area. It’s a promising setup, reminiscent of classic Doctor Who stories where horror lurks in the mundane.
The central mystery revolves around Chloe Webber, a lonely young girl with an unsettling secret. Played by Abisola Agbaje, Chloe is an isolated child struggling with trauma, and her ability to make people disappear by drawing them is a genuinely creepy idea. The concept of imagination becoming reality is one that Doctor Who has explored before (The Celestial Toymaker, The Mind Robber), and here, it is given a more intimate, psychological twist. However, the execution feels uneven. While Agbaje does her best with the material, Chloe’s performance occasionally feels stilted, making it difficult to fully connect with her fear.
David Tennant and Billie Piper remain the highlight of the episode, carrying much of the weight of the story. The Doctor, ever the problem solver, takes an immediate interest in Chloe’s unusual abilities, and Tennant’s performance is as engaging as ever. He shifts effortlessly between playful and authoritative, treating the situation with the right amount of gravity while still injecting his signature charm. Rose, meanwhile, takes on more responsibility in this episode, investigating independently and piecing together the clues. It’s a nice reminder that she has grown significantly since her early adventures, becoming a capable companion in her own right.
The true villain of the story is not Chloe herself, but the Isolus, a lonely alien entity that has latched onto her emotions and granted her the ability to trap people in her drawings. The Isolus is not malevolent—it is simply searching for companionship after being separated from its family. This is a refreshing take on an alien antagonist, one that adds a layer of tragedy to the story. However, the execution falters in places. The visual representation of the Isolus, a glowing speck of light, lacks the presence needed to make it feel like a tangible threat. Its motivations are understandable, but its presence never quite generates the tension required to make the story compelling.
The episode’s pacing is another area where it struggles. Much of the runtime is spent on repetitive moments of Chloe’s drawings causing people to vanish, without a real sense of escalation. The subplot involving her fear of her abusive, deceased father is introduced but not fully explored, making it feel like a missed opportunity for deeper psychological horror. The idea that Chloe has trapped the entire Olympic stadium in her drawings is an amusingly ambitious concept, but it is resolved so quickly that it barely registers as a major crisis.
Then there is the ending, which has become somewhat infamous among fans. The Doctor lighting the Olympic torch and running it into the stadium is a moment that feels at odds with the rest of the episode’s tone. While Doctor Who has always had its moments of whimsy, this scene pushes it a step too far, feeling more like an out-of-place parody than an organic resolution to the story. It is a bizarrely over-the-top ending to an otherwise subdued episode, and it remains one of the more divisive moments of the Tennant era.
Rewatching Fear Her in 2025, it remains one of the weaker entries in Doctor Who’s modern run. The premise is solid, and there are glimmers of an interesting, emotionally rich story beneath the surface, but it never quite manages to deliver on its potential. That said, it is not without its merits. The quieter moments—such as the Doctor’s gentle approach to Chloe and Rose’s determination to solve the mystery—offer glimpses of what could have been a more compelling psychological thriller. In the end, Fear Her is a forgettable but inoffensive episode, a filler story that doesn’t quite leave the impact it aims for.
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