“Blink and you’re dead.”

By George White

Published: Saturday, 28 October 2023 at 07:00 AM


Cast your mind back to June 2007. Gordon Brown becomes Prime Minister. England’s men’s team have just played their first game at the new Wembley. And there’s a near-10-year-old me that still gets scared at certain episodes of What’s New, Scooby-Doo? (look, some of those ghosts are properly creepy, alright?). 

My friends are already diving into Saw 3 and Trick ‘r Treat, taking in the most extreme of extremities that the world of horror has to offer. 

But not me. There’s not a chance I’m even dipping a toe into the genre, never mind diving in headfirst with an 18-rated fright fest. I’m more than happy to stick to comedies and cartoons, taking every measure imaginable to avoid the horrors of horror.

That is, until an episode of Doctor Who comes on the screen, featuring (or, rather, not really featuring) my Converse-wearing, pinstripe suit-donning idol in David Tennant’s 10th Time Lord, alongside Carey Mulligan’s Sally Sparrow, being hunted down by a group of angel statues out for blood.

That’s right, in the blink of an eye, Blink arrived – and so did my appreciation of what horror could do. (Or, at least, what it could do in a pre-watershed sci-fi series on the BBC – perfect for a fearful primary schooler like myself.)

Sure, this is no kill-heavy slasher in the form of Scream, and no paranormal mind-bender in the shape of The Conjuring, but Blink – perhaps the single most popular episode of the new Doctor Who era – demonstrates the genre’s ability to get under the skin and into the minds of the audience.

And, even with a PG rating and some questionable CGI, it does it masterfully well.

Blink’s greatest strength is its ability to establish a sense of creeping dread, of consistent threat, that is properly unnerving.

The feeling of being watched is one of the most disturbing one can experience, and has been explored throughout horror history – from Michael Myers taunting Laurie Strode from the shadows in 1978’s Halloween to Rory Kinnear’s birthday suit-wearing stalker drifting into the edge of the frame in last year’s Men, there’s very little that unsettles more than being followed. 

There’s something mentally exhausting about the idea of never being able to rest, of not being able to drop your guard for even a moment, which can drive you insane – and Steven Moffat’s concrete-looking creations provide the perfect example of this.

Steven Moffat standing wearing a grey jumper, with a Weeping Angel in the background
Steven Moffat and his Weeping Angel (photographed for RT in 2015 by Richard Ansett).
Richard Ansett

You see, with the Weeping Angels, turning your back, trying to run away, or even taking your eye off their haunting expressions for a split second could spell the end of the road – just ask Amy Pond

In the words of Tennant’s frantic Doctor, “Blink and you’re dead”. 

Is there any concept more terrifying than having the most basic human action rendered potentially life-threatening? This inescapable danger is draining, debilitating. 

As we viewers watch Sally and Finlay Robertson’s Larry Nightingale navigate the nightmare they find themselves in, we grimace each time they turn their heads, and scream at the TV as we spot an angel moving ever closer.

It’s the sort of pulse-racing tension that only the horror genre can provide, and it lingers long in the memory.