Doctor Who: Every Modern Companion's DEFINITIVE Episode
4. Bill - The Pilot
I've tried to not pick introductory episodes too much as, by nature, a lot of them could qualify as quintessential - they're all about the companion. In the case of Bill, though, The Pilot is such a clear statement on what Moffat was trying to achieve with Bill (and by extension series 10) that it simply had to be my pick.
Series 10 was billed as a new start, a breath of fresh air after the cerebral and often serious tone of Capaldi's first two series. Part of this shake-up was a return to 'normality' for the show, less tied into big mythos and more centred on ordinary people with ordinary lives. Enter Bill. The Pilot serves as a perfect introduction because it doesn't overcomplicate Bill, and it doesn't overcomplicate the plot. That's not to say Bill is lacking depth (far from it), but rather that the show is very upfront about who Bill is - she does what it says on the tin. There's no crazy lore or mystery behind Bill, she's simply an inquisitive, chatty, funny woman with a thirst for the unknown. What you see is very deliberately what you get, and Moffat was right: it is a breath of fresh air.
The Pilot makes a conscious effort to contrast Bill with the more archetypal 'most important woman in the universe' companions that have come before her. The Doctor notices her not because she is extraordinary, but because she's unapologetically curious. She doesn't do anything particularly special or brave to win her spot on the TARDIS, she just asks good questions and makes for great company. The teacher/student dynamic is absolutely key to this series, and this episode serves as a perfect introduction to it. It's a bit Seven and Ace, bur rather this time, The Doctor is quite literally her university tutor (a role Capaldi was born to play). Bill functions as a genuine audience surrogate in a way that we haven't had since Donna. She asks questions the show needs asked, but not in a naive way, and also has a subversive way of thinking that leads her to ask questions that haven't occurred to other companions in the sixty years of the show, often with a sarcastic and slightly meta sense of humour. Mackie is supremely good at disguising exposition dumps and making them seem more natural.
What the episode also does particularly well is establish that Bill’s emotional and narrative arcs aren't about uncovering hidden secrets, but about expanding on the traits she already has. Her relationship with Heather and her mourning of her mother are very simple, everyday troubles (yes, the former turns into a sentient puddle but it's not overly relevant to the arc), and throughout the series the things we see Bill dealing with outside of the monster of the week are refreshingly relatable: bickering with her foster mum, navigating the world as a gay woman, trying to get on the property ladder and juggling homework. In all instances, Bill faces everything with a smile, and that feeling of exuberance absolutely carries into her debut story.