Ten percent. That’s how much body fat the Adipose allegedly take from you while you sleep. Sounds like a dream, right? Honestly, if a little marshmallow-shaped alien wanted to sprout from my love handles and walk away, I’d probably let it.
Doctor Who Partners in Crime kicked off Series 4 in 2008, and looking back from nearly two decades away, it’s wild how much this single episode shifted the DNA of modern Who. It wasn't just a monster-of-the-week romp. It was a tonal pivot. It brought back Catherine Tate's Donna Noble, a move that, at the time, had fans deeply divided. People remembered her as the "shouty bride" from the 2006 Christmas special. They weren't sure they wanted a full season of her.
They were wrong.
The Reintroduction of Donna Noble
David Tennant was at the height of his powers here. He was the "skinny man" in the suit, the lonely god mourning Rose and rebounding from Martha. Then comes Donna. She isn't pining. She isn't looking for a boyfriend. She’s looking for purpose.
The genius of this episode lies in the missed connections. For the first twenty minutes, the Doctor and Donna are investigating the same company, Adipose Industries, but they keep narrowly missing each other. It’s classic farce. It’s slapstick. It’s also incredibly hard to film. Director James Strong used a lot of split-screen-style framing and tight timing to make the "near misses" feel organic rather than forced.
When they finally see each other through the windows of an office door—Donna miming her heart out while the Doctor stares in disbelief—it’s arguably the funniest scene in the show’s history. No dialogue. Just eyebrows and hand gestures.
✨ Don't miss: Temuera Morrison as Boba Fett: Why Fans Are Still Divided Over the Daimyo of Tatooine
Why the Adipose Worked (and Why They Shouldn't Have)
The Adipose are ridiculous. Let’s be real. They are tiny, white, squishy cubes of fat with eyes and a single tooth. On paper, that sounds like a disaster for a "serious" sci-fi show. But Russell T Davies knew something important: Doctor Who is at its best when it’s slightly absurd.
These creatures weren't invaders in the traditional sense. They were a biological accident. They were "nursery planet" fodder. The horror wasn't in the creature itself, but in the corporate coldness of Miss Foster (played by the brilliant Sarah Lancashire). She didn't care that the weight-loss pill was essentially "parthenogenesis" using human hosts. She just wanted the results.
Lancashire’s performance is actually what grounds the episode. If she had played it as a cartoon villain, the stakes would have vanished. Instead, she played it like a CEO who’s just a bit too dedicated to her KPIs. It’s a very "mid-2000s" kind of evil.
The Shift in the Doctor-Companion Dynamic
Before this, the New Series was built on romance. Rose Tyler was the soulmate. Martha Jones was the unrequited love. Doctor Who Partners in Crime broke that cycle.
"I just want a mate," the Doctor says.
"You're not mating with me, sunshine!" Donna snaps back.
🔗 Read more: Why Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy Actors Still Define the Modern Spy Thriller
That one exchange redefined the TARDIS dynamic. It allowed the show to explore a platonic "best friend" energy that hadn't really been seen since the Fourth Doctor and Sarah Jane Smith. It made the TARDIS feel less like a vessel for romantic drama and more like a clubhouse for adventure.
Donna was also the first companion to consistently call the Doctor out on his "Lord of Time" ego. She didn't think he was a god. She thought he was a "space man" who needed someone to tell him when he was being a bit much.
The Production Grind
Filming in Cardiff in the winter is never glamorous. The exterior shots of the Adipose Industries building (actually the DHSS building in Llanishen) were notoriously cold. If you watch the episode closely, you can see the breath of the actors in scenes that are supposed to be taking place in a climate-controlled office.
The CGI was also a massive hurdle. Handling thousands of tiny Adipose scurrying down the streets of London required a significant chunk of the season's visual effects budget. The Mill, the VFX house at the time, had to find a way to make them look "cute but alien." If they looked too realistic, it was gross. If they looked too fake, the ending—where they are beamed up to their nursery ship—wouldn't land emotionally.
The Shadow of the Shadow Proclamation
One thing people forget about this episode is how much foreshadowing it does. We get the first mention of the "lost planets." We see the return of Rose Tyler in a silent, flickering cameo that sent the 2008 internet into an absolute tailspin.
💡 You might also like: The Entire History of You: What Most People Get Wrong About the Grain
This was the start of the "Series 4 Arc," which many still consider the gold standard for how to pace a season of television. It started with a silly story about fat-babies and ended with the literal end of the multiverse.
It’s also worth noting the social commentary. The episode targets the weight-loss industry—an industry built on the idea that our bodies are things to be "fixed" or "shrunk." By turning that desire into a literal alien birth, Davies was poking fun at the fad-diet culture that was peaking in the late aughts. It's subtle, but it's there.
The Ending That Changes Everything
The final scene, where Donna tells her mum (the ever-critical Sylvia) and her grandfather (the legendary Wilfred Mott) that she's leaving, is the heartbeat of the show.
Wilf, played by Bernard Cribbins, wasn't originally supposed to be a series regular. He was brought back because the actor who played Donna’s father, Howard Attfield, sadly passed away during filming. Cribbins brought a warmth to the show that it desperately needed. When he looks through that telescope and sees his granddaughter flying off into the stars, it’s pure magic.
Actionable Takeaways for Your Next Rewatch
If you’re going back to watch Doctor Who Partners in Crime, don't just look at the monsters. Look at the framing.
- Watch the background. In the scene where the Doctor and Donna are investigating the office, they occupy opposite sides of the screen in almost every shot until they finally meet. It's a masterclass in visual storytelling.
- Listen to the score. Murray Gold’s "Donna’s Theme" is brassy, loud, and slightly chaotic—just like her. It contrasts perfectly with the ethereal, lonely motifs used for the Doctor.
- Look for the Rose cameo. It’s brief. If you blink, you’ll miss it. It happens right after the Doctor and Donna leave the scene of the Adipose departure. It’s the first hint that the walls of reality are breaking down.
- Check the dialogue for "The Bees." There’s a throwaway line about bees disappearing. At the time, it sounded like a weird ecological joke. By the season finale, you realize it was a plot point.
This episode isn't just "the one with the fat babies." It’s the start of the most confident era of the show. It’s the moment the Doctor stopped mourning and started living again. Honestly, we should all be a bit more like Donna Noble—ready to pack a suitcase, stand on a rooftop, and wait for something impossible to happen.
To get the most out of Series 4, follow this episode immediately with "The Fires of Pompeii." You'll see the exact moment Donna goes from being a comedic foil to being the Doctor’s moral compass. It's a transition that happens fast, so pay attention to how she reacts when the Doctor tells her he can't save everyone.