Escape To Danger 2.0 No.10

The last time I turned my attention to "The Rescue", I made a rather sarcastic but well-meaning off-the-cuff remark about how this largely overlooked brief character piece was a pivotal moment in the history of Proper Who.

So, I'm naturally going to labour the point here.
 

 

"The Rescue" is often described as being a brief character-driven plot created for the sole purpose of introducing a new "companion" (as they were eventually described) to the series. In the process of doing that, Maureen O'Brien is given probably one of the best acting showcases in the run of the series. There isn't much emotion she isn't called on to articulate at some point, and it's quite incredible to watch her in action.

It's a shame that the tropes of the still-malleable young series were soon to condemn her to the standard role of peril-monkey and (in the case of Hartnell's Doctor) grand-daughter substitute.

But at least she got her tit groped by one Sydney Wilson...
 

 

And speaking of Koquillion, isn't that costume and headpiece simply fucking amazing? Raymond Cusick again, if anyone's counting...

 

 

In addition to making a big thing of a new companion, the other main characters get their chance to shine as well. It's unclear just how much time has passed since the conclusion of "The Dalek Invasion of Earth", but relationships between the members of the TARDIS crew seem to have relaxed considerably.

Ian and Barbara are by this point probably shagging (obviously off-camera in those days, kids), and if they're not they almost certainly are in the next story when they've had a few weeks in a Roman villa together.

 

 

The Doctor has also mellowed noticably since the departure of his grand-daughter, and seems to take genuine pleasure in the company of Ian and Barbara. (He's also had a change of clothes, which probably pleased his friends no end).

And in a surprising twist, it's not Barbara that plays the mummy role and wins the trust of Vicki, it's the Doctor who does all the avuncular stuff. That and duffing up the bad guy, in this busy little story.

 

 

Oh look, there's Bennett. He can't walk much unaided, and seems genuinely shit-scared of Koquillion. So like I said last time, it's a mystery to me why some people persist in the view that "The Rescue" is rendered worthless by the assumption that he is the obvious villain of the piece. (It's halfway through the second episode that the Doctor starts to twig, and in dramatic terms this goes for the viewer too. Of course, many reviewers had thirty years of plot synopses to study before they reached their own conclusions...)

 

 

As a deliberate character piece, "The Rescue" works much better than David Whitaker's previous attempt at a similar concept. While the production history of Serial C probably doomed it to being a bit rushed and muddled, it was coincidentally also at a pivotal moment of the series' history (being commissioned for a longer run, in the case of "The Edge of Destruction").

Despite being the third story of the second season of the series, Serial L was the start of the second production block. There's an understandable atmosphere of freedom and freshness, a brash confidence that the future is a lot less uncertain than the piecemeal commissioning that the previous production block suffered.

 

 

The second season of Verity Lambert's Doctor Who rode the wave of popularity caused by Dalekmania with a verve and enthusiasm that allowed the series to stretch its format in ways that would truly set the series on its initial twenty-six year joyride.

And it all started with a stranded teenage girl on Dido...

Publicity Shots From Hell No.130

As ever, the domestic situation has kept me from these pages for a while. With builders, electricians, plumbers, joiners, window installers et al trooping through the real world Security Kitchen on a daily basis, I have been feeling too worn out on an evening to attend to my online responsibilities.

 

So in an attempt to mollify my public, here's a little something to keep you all twisting and jiving...

 

 

Altogether now... "Klokleeda partha mennin klatch, harroon harroon harroon!"

Esacpe To Danger No.55

It's five years to the day since my father died. I'm not mentioning this to gain any kind of sympathy, but in order to offer another example of how deeply Doctor Who is engrained in my life and psyche.

 

Having been to visit him earlier in the afternoon, I could see my dad was in pretty bad shape, and I was kind of half-expecting some development later in the day. So to kill some time whilst waiting, I continued watching some rather special downloads I had started some time previously.

 

So I'd just got to the bit in Episode 6 of "The Web of Fear" when the paranoia's ramping up, and Jon Rollason reappears as Harold Chorley after a few episodes of absence. It's a really great scene, and one of my personal favourites.

 

It's also the point when I took the phonecall that informed me that my dad was gone forever.

So, it appears that I was watching Doctor Who as my father lay dying. But at least it was one of my favourite stories, and one of which I never tire. (Well, I never tire of any of them, but you know what I mean).

 

I've mentioned previously (and I can't be bothered to link to the entries in question just now, sorry) how Serial QQ was probably responsible for my initial fascination with the London Underground system. And I still get a kick from looking at an Underground map and seeing names like Goodge Street and Charing Cross even today. (Even though the Charing Cross mentioned in the story is now Embankment, trivia fans).

And speaking of maps, why does a military operation use the iconic schematic of the Tube system, instead of the somewhat rather different map that actually gives the genuine layout of tunnels and stations?

Just saying, is all...

As a quick off-the-cuff sequel, "The Web of Fear" is remarkable. Much like the Cybermen did on their speedy return, the Yeti get a makeover that has both good points and not-so-good points. The Great Intelligence is back too, and the whole concept of it is still as fucking creepy as ever. London's been evacuated (a first in Proper Who?) and the army are trying to contain a weird fungus that is engulfing the Underground system and thinking it would be jolly helpful to have a United Nations quango to deal with this sort of thing.

 

All well and good, but the masterstroke here is the inclusion of the character of Professor Travers.

For a programme which has  time travel as a central premise, Doctor Who in what we now seem to have to call its "Classic" phase fought incredibly shy of portraying its possible ramifications. (Of course, the modern reboot decided to rectify this "mistake" to a tedious degree by getting all touchy-feely and timey-wimey at the drop of an Archimandrite's hat).

Seriously, it's worth thinking about Travers for a moment. In "The Abominable Snowmen", he wasn't exactly likeable at times, and the same goes in "The Web of Fear". But with more than forty years between the two stories, we see for the first time a character who has aged. Travers is now an old man, has somehow secured some kind of scientific kudos, is probably battling the onset of dementia, and has been drafted in as some kind of reluctant advisor to a reluctant military.

And he has a daughter, and quite a hot one at that.

The tragedy of Travers is that he is forced to encounter three acquaintances who've hardly aged a day since he last saw them forty years ago. The scene where he meets Jamie and Victoria could have been one of the most moving that Proper Who had to offer if it hadn't been played for laughs, and (like Hartnell's heart-rending soliloquy at the end of "The Massacre") one of the least mentioned.

The other really great thing about "The Web of Fear" is that it sets up the familiar yet effective conceit that there is a possessed traitor in the tunnels, and really makes you work to try and figure it out. Anybody who encounters the fungus and survives is an immediate suspect (the comedy Welshman), as is anyone who wanders off for a length of time and later turns up alive (Chorley).

Fantastic direction from Douglas Camfield, some really great use of stock music especially in the first episode, and the sets are so good even London Transport thought they'd been filming illegally in the Underground.

All together now... "Nobody destroys Julius Silverstein's collection! Nobody! No!"

Great Fan Myths of Who No.5

During a recent conversation, I was suddenly reminded of this old chestnut. I can't remember where I first heard it, but I really must sit down one day and go through old Matrix Data Bank columns in back issues of Doctor Who Monthly...

TRUE OR FALSE? William Hartnell had an uncredited cameo in Jon Pertwee's debut story, "Spearhead From Space".

 

Well, I think it's safe to say that this is utterly false. But looking at the scene in question, you can see how the misunderstanding could have arose.

 

It would have been bloody cool if it were true, though...

 

 

Of course, "Spearhead From Space" does genuinely feature one notable uncredited guest cameo, which is probably the point where people started getting their wires crossed.

 

So here's series Producer Derrick Sherwin, who bravely stepped in after he sacked the original actor for presumably not being able to perform a comedy car park attendant well enough...

 

 

Publicity Shots From Hell No.129

With panto season rapidly approaching, it's time to take a brief look at some memorable pantomimes of yesteryear.

 

While many believe that John Nathan-Turner was the first to use his Doctor Who connections to sell a few extra tickets for his annual celebrity panto, let's turn back the clock to the early 1970s and see how other production teams rose to the challenge...

 

In what can only be a performance of "Aladdin", we can plainly see Roger Delgado, Barry Letts and, erm... Terrance Dicks letting their hair down for the festive season.

 

But where, I hear you cry, is Jon Pertwee? Never one to shy away from dressing up (or publicity in general), you would have thought he would have been on hand to join in the fun.

Sorry, my mistake...

Escape To Danger 2.0 No.9

When I was writing the original Escape To Danger article for "The Faceless Ones", I was in a bit of a hurry and wanted something quick to dash off which wasn't very image-intensive.

 

Likewise today, when I'm trying to get back into actually doing something on these pages, I find myself in the need of something similar to help ease myself back into things.

 

How fortunate that Serial KK is one of those rare stories for which hardly any publicity images seem to have been taken. (Well, obviously bad for posterity bearing in mind the state of the archive holdings, but good for me being a lazy bugger right here and now).

  

In fact, I was so embarrassed at the paucity of the goods in the original article, that I gave a little description of the images I would have included if the remit of the column were different.

 

So, erm... here they are now. And this one below still grosses me out.

I've always found "The Faceless Ones" to be a genuinely unnerving story. Doppelganger stories are always good for cranking up the paranoia, and having most of it solely on soundtrack seems to (accidentally, I admit) actually intensify the feeling of dislocation.

 

The contemporary setting was still relatively new to the series at that time, which also lends to the feeling of oddness. And the discovery of the missing humans in cars in the Gatwick parking lots is another slightly sinister twist.

 

Would the story have been improved if set in a department store as originally intended? Maybe not, but it would have been nice to see Doctor Who's take on the familiar creepy mannequin trope a few years before "Spearhead From Space" gave it a try.

 

And did Pauline Collins do the decent thing by not accepting the offer to take Samantha Briggs into Time and Space? Think of all those excellent hats we missed out on...

Escape To Danger 2.0 No.8

Earlier today I happened to read a piece of modern commentary that was at great pains to remind less worldly fans that Doctor Who seasons from the 1960s weren't micromanaged to the ridiculous degree that seasons of the rebooted series are today. (No story arcs, no character development, no plot pointers scattered hither and yon, and certainly no - insert teeth-grinding sound effect here - "emotional climax").

 

Similarly, it's so easy these days to be tempted to view stories like "The Three Doctors" by modern expectations of what constitutes an anniversary knees-up. But when you actually look at things, Doctor Who makes a wonderfully characteristic inconsistent stab at it.

 

 

And to keep you in suspense, we'll get back to talking about the first notable anniversary (the ten year one) later when we've had a look at some notable others.

 

First out of the hat are the celebrations to mark the 100th broadcast story. Taking "Mission To the Unknown" into their count (as indeed they should), the production team initially went to all the trouble of writing an extra scene into "The Stones of Blood" where the Doctor is presented with a cake to celebrate his 751st birthday. Party-pooper Graham Williams deemed the scene too silly, and the it was never shot (but the crew got to eat the cake, apparantly).

 

While no great loss to the world, it would perhaps have been a nice touch had anybody realised at the time that the broadcast of Part Four of "The Stones of Blood" was to be a mere five days before the 15th Anniversary of the series. John-Nathan Turner would have sold his grandmother for a coincidence like that...

 

 

Which brings us to the next milestone, the 20th Anniversary. And what a corker that was. After the almost-afterthought misfire of selling Season 20 as featuring "an element from the Doctor's past" in every story (which is kind of ok if you want to count the Black Guardian three times out of an eventual six), we got "The Five Doctors", the Longleat weekend, and, erm... the "Doctor Who: A Celebration" book by Peter Haining.

 

Joking aside, "The Five Doctors" was at the time of broadcast seen to be such a success that it was temporarily cool to be a fan again, even in the confines of a provincial English public school where such things were normally viewed as juvenile and (as we said in the 80s) gay.

 

But more about "The Five Doctors", Longleat and Peter Haining when we look at Serial 5K itself...

 

 

Never one to fall foul of the mistakes of his predecessors, J-NT decided that the 150th broadcast story was worth a bit of publicity, and so the otherwise unremarkable "Dragonfire" got a minor bit of coverage in the press. Unfortunately, he jumped the gun somewhat when he cheated and counted "The Trial of a Time Lord" as four separate stories. If he'd only waited, the 150th broadcast show would have been "Silver Nemesis", which was ironically touted as the 25th Anniversary show. (It featured Courtney Pine, the Queen (cough), and the plot of "Remembrance of the Daleks").

The 30th and 40th Anniversaries saw the series not actually on the air, but the 30th gave us a repeat season, loads of VHS releases and "Dimensions In Time" (so it was therefore a good thing, despite what many might say). And the 40th had a nice logo...

And the 50th... well, yer modern timey-wimey stuff that at least brought Paul McCann back in from the cold (albeit obliquely) and managed very well thank you without the perpetually disgruntled Eccleston.

So... what's all this got to do with "The Three Doctors"? The question of perspective, that's what.

From the sometimes underwhelming on-screen evidence, it's difficult to remember what a big deal Serial RRR actually was. Look... all three Doctors (almost) together at last! A threat the (then) omnipotent Time Lords were babbing their pants about! Patrick-fucking-Troughton being interviewed on Pebble Mill At One!

I genuinely like "The Three Doctors". But while the concept and script are amazing, it looks as if all the budget was blown on securing Troughton and Hartnell for the party, with nothing left in the pot for what's happening on screen. Lennie Mayne was probably not the best choice of director for the gig, Katy Manning has to perform Jo Grant as a hideous moron, and the Brigadier's character also hits an all-time low. (At one point he has a little huffy fit where he has to go and have a private moment, and let's not forget the "hilarity" of the Cromer stuff).

But... perspective, I keep telling myself. Before "The Five Doctors" raised the bar so much (and "The Two Doctors" tried to deflate the pomp and circumstance), "The Three Doctors" was a special in every sense of the word. (And Troughton is so fucking amazing it almost hurts). 

As I said the first time around... what's a bridge for, eh? 

Stars On Pushbikes No.14

As I was flicking through the latest BBC cash in restoration of "Shada" to grace the shelves, I was admiring the pleasingly tall Victoria Burgoyne and wondering whether there were any photos of her astride a bicycle?

 

 

Of course, it would have been better if she were flashing her shapely legs astride something a bit more elaborate...

 

 

God bless the internet, that's what I say!

Stars On Pushbikes No.13

With the annual workload cranked up even higher this year, I've been hard pressed to even think about what's going on in here. Added to that are sorting out new properties, illness and an bout of Swedish Death Cleaning... well, the time just flies.

Someone who has emerged unscathed from the rather quite severe culling of my music accumulation is Ivor Cutler.

And here he is with his pushbike.

Since I'm meant to be working as I write this, I will refrain from the full eulogy and listing the small yet significant ways in which he influenced my life for the better. For they were many, and I am humbly grateful.

Instead, I will merely remember that as a pun, he had a small collection of ivory cutlery, that was allegedly only discovered after his death.

Escape To Danger 2.0 No.7

In my original post for "The Aztecs", I confessed to not having thought very highly of the serial until recent years. But if you considered my original "ooh!-four-episodes-to-get-to-the-other-side-of-a-wall!" objection was suitably bad-brained, spare a thought for poor old Tat Wood and Lawrence Miles. As much as I admire their "About Time" series of books, I did chuckle somewhat when I read that their enjoyment of Serial F was significantly lessened by the DVD restoration work and the application of the vidFIRE process.

However, I do remember that I was also a bit sceptical of the whole idea of making fuzzy old film prints look like VT recordings again, but I soon got over it. At the end of the day, I personally find VT charming mainly because of its perceived shortcomings. VT is not film, and should never pretend to be otherwise.

But I do feel the pain of Messrs Wood and Miles, and I still consider that having the tatty old unrestored film telerecordings we grew up with as extra features on the DVD releases would have been a splendid bit of fan service.

Anyway, where was I?

 

"Ah, the Aztecs! They knew how to build!". I think that shot above must have seeped into my consciousness when Gary Russell was editor of DWM. There seemed to be a mania in the early 1990s for unpublished photos of empty sets, much to the delight of aging set designers, I suppose.

 

 

Hartnell's expression is priceless here, and it's always a joy to see him in his rehearsal slacks. And here he is again in mufti, with Carole Ann Ford doing a wonderful "fuck off, Grandfather" look...

Probably the best thing about "The Aztecs" (apart from the magnificent costumes and design) is the depth of John Lucarotti's research into the period. The script is peppered with both small and substantial detail (the latter sometimes rather clumsily delivered unfortunately) which both highlights the education remit of the series at the time, and also provides almost unparalleled depth to a routine "historical" story. (Compare this with "The Highlanders", where the most vivid thing you learn about the clans of the Eighteenth Century is that the men had rather large handkerchiefs).

But it is Lucarotti's view of history itself that persists in being the most disappointing aspect of Serial F, even though I concur that there wouldn't have been much story without it. From the irritatingly large infodump that Barbara expounds as soon as she sets foot out of the TARDIS, we're in the "noble-savage-against-uncivilized-barbarian" reading of history. Just because the Aztecs built an impressive city or two and had a bit of art laying around the place, modern sensibilities suggest that theirs was a relatively advanced culture sadly let down by the need to persistently (and on rather a grand scale at times) tear out the still-beating hearts of anybody who happened to be nearby in order to placate their gods.

Of course I am over-simplifying for comic effect, but this view of history annoys me. I concur that a self-serving priesthood is usually to blame for such excessive behaviour, but the Aztecs took it to particular extremes. Cortez managed to penetrate as far as Tenochtitlan unmolested due to the assistance of neighbouring tribes who couldn't wait for the Aztecs to get the shit kicked out of them, and the Aztecs themselves were unashamedly in favour of expansion through military conquest.

I believe that the Aztec culture was at heart one of institutional sadism, with regular human sacrifice being its most obvious manifestation. (Mind you, any culture that believed that a rain god could be propitiated by the tears of children has to be kind of admired). And whilst we're at it, what did they do with all the leftover corpses? Hmm?

Anyway, Doctor Who has never been at its most level-headed when sympathetically discussing religion, so it's hardly surprising that the series falls into line with the "learning good, religion bad" approach. And apart from being a bit of a disgusting little fellow, what crime does Tlotoxl commit other than try to expose a group of self-serving frauds who are actually, erm... self-serving frauds?

And let's not get into why Dr Who is so against changing the course of Earth history when he doesn't have similar reservations about doing it on other planets. (Remind me to discuss the FASA Doctor Who Roleplaying Game of the mid 1980s sometime... they had a concept of something called a Temporal Nexus Point which went some way to addressing this old chestnut...)

 

So maybe free will WAS an illusion after all...