If New Earth was about reaffirming Doctor Who’s sense of fun, then Tooth and Claw, first broadcast on April 22, 2006, reminds us that the show can still deliver genuine horror. Written by Russell T Davies and directed by Euros Lyn, this episode is a masterclass in atmosphere, taking the Doctor and Rose into the heart of Victorian Scotland for a gothic tale of werewolves, warrior monks, and a Queen who is not amused. It is an episode that embraces its horror influences while still finding time for adventure, mythology-building, and some of the most thrilling action sequences of the Tenth Doctor’s early tenure.
The adventure begins with an attempted detour to 1979, as the Doctor aims to take Rose to see Ian Dury and the Blockheads in concert. Instead, the TARDIS lands in 1879, in the Scottish Highlands, where they immediately encounter Queen Victoria, played with regal gravitas by Pauline Collins. The setup is simple yet effective—the Doctor and Rose are quickly enlisted as her temporary protectors, traveling with her to the Torchwood Estate. The name alone is a clue that this episode is planting seeds for something much bigger, but the real danger is lurking inside the grand halls of the house.
Before we even get to the werewolf, the episode is drenched in tension. The hooded warrior monks, who storm the estate with acrobatic precision, are an immediate sign that this is not a typical historical outing. They serve a mysterious creature, hidden away in a cellar, which possesses the ability to control minds and sees the full moon as its catalyst for transformation. When the Doctor and Rose discover the caged man with eerie, glowing eyes, the episode kicks into high gear. What follows is a relentless, pulse-pounding chase through the halls of Torchwood House, as the werewolf is unleashed and begins hunting its prey.
David Tennant’s performance in Tooth and Claw is electric. It is his first proper historical adventure, and he makes the most of it, relishing the opportunity to play the role of an enthusiastic scholar. His enthusiasm for Queen Victoria’s presence is palpable, but when the situation turns deadly, he switches effortlessly into the Doctor’s more serious, commanding mode. His ability to think on his feet, analyze the werewolf’s origins, and devise a plan to stop it all showcase the brilliance of his incarnation. There’s also an added personal touch—Tennant, a proud Scotsman, gets to use his natural accent for the first time in the series, adding to the authenticity of the setting.
Billie Piper’s Rose continues to be a lively and confident presence, though her character’s role in this episode leans heavily toward comic relief. Her repeated attempts to make Queen Victoria say “I am not amused” are lighthearted and endearing, though they occasionally undercut the tension of the horror elements. That said, her chemistry with Tennant is infectious, and their camaraderie makes even the most dire moments feel engaging rather than purely grim.
The werewolf itself is a technical triumph. While early CGI in Doctor Who could be hit-or-miss, the creature design here is genuinely terrifying. The way it moves, its glowing eyes, and the sheer size of it make it a formidable presence. More than just a monster of the week, the werewolf carries with it a mythological weight, suggesting a greater lineage of supernatural creatures hiding in history. The idea that it is an alien being, a creature that arrived on Earth centuries ago and has passed down its infection through bloodlines, adds an extra layer of intrigue. The Doctor’s excitement at the idea that werewolf legends might have an extraterrestrial origin is a wonderful encapsulation of the character’s joy in uncovering new mysteries.
Queen Victoria, however, is the heart of the episode. Pauline Collins brings a steely resolve to the role, portraying the monarch as a figure of immense power and pragmatism. Her reactions to the Doctor and Rose are fascinating—she respects their intelligence and bravery but is deeply wary of their flippancy in the face of danger. By the episode’s end, her decision to knight them both before immediately banishing them is a brilliant moment of character writing. She is not ungrateful for their help, but she sees them as a potential threat, and her actions lay the foundation for what is to come.
That brings us to Torchwood. While the term was first referenced in Bad Wolf, this is where its origins begin to take shape. Queen Victoria, shaken by the events of the night, declares the creation of the Torchwood Institute, an organization dedicated to defending Britain from extraterrestrial threats. It is a powerful moment, one that resonates far beyond this episode, shaping the mythology of the show for years to come. The Doctor and Rose, laughing as they walk away, have no idea that they have just set something into motion that will have consequences far beyond what they can imagine.
The episode’s pacing is relentless, with very little downtime between its moments of action and discovery. Euros Lyn’s direction is masterful, making full use of the dimly lit halls, flickering candlelight, and ominous shadows to create an immersive gothic horror experience. The chase sequences are some of the most exhilarating in Doctor Who’s modern era, and the sense of dread is maintained right up until the climax.
Rewatching Tooth and Claw in 2025, it remains one of the best historical horror episodes of the show’s revival. It successfully blends Doctor Who’s signature mix of sci-fi and mythology, introduces key elements for the show’s larger narrative, and delivers a thrilling, visually stunning adventure. With its blend of folklore, action, and political intrigue, Tooth and Claw is an example of Doctor Who firing on all cylinders—scary, funny, and deeply exciting all at once.
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