by JohnLorehound
Introduction: The Timeless Children
In March 2020, the world changed forever. I’m referring, of course, to the complete lore upheaval that came with Doctor Who, Series 12, Episode 10, The Timeless Children. In that episode, divisive showrunner Chris Chibnall fundamentally rewrote the titular character’s origin, changing their species, origin, and abilities.
In a beloved franchise that was nearing its 60th anniversary, Chibnall’s move was bold. Fans across the message boards engaged in a teeth-gnashing that shook the foundations of the TARDIS. In 2022, Chibnall ended his run of Doctor Who with an uneven record and mixed reviews from critics and fans alike.
I was not current on Doctor Who when the episode aired, so I was spared an immediate gut reaction until 2023, when I caught up on the last few seasons of the show ahead of David Tennant’s return. When I finally watched the episode, I was pleasantly surprised and, quite frankly, confused by the backlash I saw to the episode. Within a franchise famous for wacky plot twists involving aliens, parallel universes, and literal gods, changing the origin of a character of already mysterious origins seemed par for the course. To me, The Timeless Children presented an opportunity for fresh story lines in a series that sorely needed them.
Defining Lore
As the cohost of a podcast called “The Lorehounds,” it might seem odd that I’m being cavalier about changing significant lore pieces in a franchise. Frankly, I’ve been reflecting lately on the role of lore in our media, when it is useful, and when it isn’t.
So, what is “lore?” Some shows keep a “show bible,” in which every piece of character or world history is kept together to avoid contradictions by different writers. Other media pieces, such as literature, have only one curator of the world.
Longtime listeners will know that the Lorehounds started as a podcast about the works and life of J.R.R. Tolkien. Scholars like Verlyn Flieger have referred to parts of Tolkien’s world-building as “textual ruins.” Tolkien and many other authors influenced by him will place the remnant of a story, a barrow, or a fallen kingdom to flesh out their worlds. This creates a cohesive language of the world: one that can be learned and spoken fluently by other writers playing in the same sandbox.
We need not get into the differences between “hard” sci-fi/fantasy and “soft” sci-fi/fantasy, but suffice it to say that lore can also be used to rigidly or loosely define the rules of a world. This can include magic systems, the capabilities of the world’s technology, and other major and minor aspects of a setting.
The Role of Lore
We consume fiction to enjoy ourselves, escape our current world, enrich our emotional intelligence, and for countless other reasons. We grow attached to things like character back-stories. That’s why The Timeless Children felt like a loss to many who had been watching Doctor Who for decades.
Yet, when I think about The Timeless Children today, it’s the most exciting thing to happen to Doctor Who in years. Finally, we have moved beyond a debate over whether the Time Lords and Gallifrey are currently alive, and we’ve started asking fundamental questions about why the Doctor is different from others of his kind. Why is it that one Time Lord among millions chooses to go out and help those in need, wherever he finds them? And why is it that it makes his adopted home world so angry?
Something else The Timeless Children did was open the door for other creators to tell their stories. With unlimited pre-First Doctor incarnations, future showrunners, comic book writers, novelists, and audio drama writers can explore new worlds and personalities without tampering with the histories of incarnations we already love (and have many preconceived notions about).
I came to realize that a single change in the lore opened up a gateway to a bounty of creative freedom.
The Lore-Allergic
I began thinking of lore changes not because of Doctor Who, but because of discussions around Tony Gilroy’s treatment of lore in Andor. Many commentators and Star Wars super-fans are understandably upset by some of Tony Gilroy’s cavalier comments toward established Star Wars lore. Gilroy seems less concerned with fitting into preconceived notions of history and more about telling a story he loves.
Isn’t that exciting?
When it comes to Star Wars, I want it all. I want people like Dave Filoni to obsess over getting the lore right when he creates shows like Ahsoka and The Mandalorian. I want people telling interesting stories about new eras with deep lore easter eggs like The Acolyte showrunner Leslye Headland. And yes, I want those who feel less beholden to the lore, like Tony Gilroy.
To be sure, Andor is not without Star Wars lore. But lore is not at the forefront, and that’s completely alright. Just as we can have the textual ruins of The Lord of the Rings expounded upon in The Silmarillion, we can have the visual lore ruins of Andor serve as the background in Tony Gilroy’s work, while people like Filoni and Headland showcase that lore as the main event elsewhere.
Andor is perhaps the best Star Wars television ever made. But what I love most about it is how it has opened the door to different storytelling styles in Star Wars. If we are more attached to the lore than George Lucas ever was, we will have a hard time expanding the Galaxy.
Love your lore. Cherish it. But when you truly love something, you set it free.