I've never seen Stargates SG-1 or Atlantis, is what I'm saying. But I like SGU, a lot -- and probably you don't -- and this Moffat chap is like being asked to go back and watch those shows instead of SGU: Science fiction television, business as usual, stuff I've hated my whole life. It doesn't surprise me that SGU got cancelled, of course, and it's certainly took a turn toward the brainless and skiffyish lately -- presumably to be more like what SF people like -- but in terms of subject and theme and style, that's what it's like.
Or imagine if you jumped suddenly from Caprica (at its best) to the original 1970's Battlestar Galactica: You get the bends sometimes. I am trying.
Orphanage: Things get weird. Downstairs the guy's like, "Oh the child, the child, she must be cared for," and then upstairs, a little peephole opens in one steel door, revealing a bionic-eyed olf lady with birdlike movements of the head who stares into the room and I think sees Amy, with her flashlight and the hash marks all over her face, and goes, "No, I think she's just dreaming" before slamming the door-slot closed again.
Amy jumps for the door, trying to get out, and the peep-hole was never there. It all seems very hallucinatory and very preggers-related, in a space-age Rosemary's Baby way, like, this is when I really started thinking we are getting something vastly different from what's actually occurring -- which is both cool and annoying because what's the point -- but then also you might just be getting odd effects or intentional brain-games from the Silence at this point. Something about that specific phrase, "She's just dreaming," puts me in mind of Moffat's #2 trope, You Are In The Matrix, so that's worrisome. Or maybe it's just weird for weirdness's sake, again:
Through the door to the shiny nurse room, but suddenly it's a child's bedroom. There's a clever painting on the wall of a ballerina which looks like an upside-down Silent head, which, I thought I was just making things up, but they keep framing Amy in front of it, so good on you for that.
This is the point where Amy finds, among many framed photos near the bed, a picture of herself holding her baby and smiling. The picture is like sepia-toned, which at first just seemed like a dumb prop choice -- Amy's baby would be born in the age of color photographs, and doing it this way just makes it seem old-timey relative to the room she's in -- but then, if I'm right and they've managed to get her to deliver the baby in-between all these creepy scenes, it actually makes a lot more sense that she'd be having a 1969-looking photo of herself. Which is actually the most terrifying thing about all this mess: Amy alone, getting tied up and interfered with. Again. And us none the wiser.