After having done twenty-four entries in this thread so far, I must admit that at times I'm still not entirely sure of the tone of what's going on around here. Please excuse this temporary authorial angst, but after the almost (cough) analytical bent of the last entry, you may appreciate my somewhat nebulous uncertainties.
Anyway, if only to concentrate my own mind, I shall remind myself that this is not really a forum for critical review, since there's enough of that around as it is. (And I note with fond amusement that there are now actual printed books on Yer Who which acknowledge the fact that they don't have anything particularly new to say on this already over-discussed old TV show. Welcome, comrades! I know exactly how you feel!).
So let's get back to basics/business, which is the attempt to document what my increasingly befuddled old mind regards as the stock images from each story that were trotted out most regularly by such journals as Doctor Who Weekly/Monthly/Magazine, back before the BBC's image archives were thrown open and more varied fare was unleashed upon us.
For these images are the stuff of happy childhood memories, a chance to vicariously experience something that in pre-VHS release days seemed unobtainable and so all the more cherished because of it.
Anomalies will occur. Seasons Twenty-Two and Twenty-Three were videotaped on transmission, and so their stories exist in a much less misty-eyed realm of their own. And all images I latched on to from the McCoy seasons were experienced when collecting DWM back issues between issues 109 and 212 when I regained my senses and came back into the Who fold in 1993 after a teenage sabbatical.
Anyway, enough of all that. I'm boring myself now.
Right, now here's a textbook example of story that had an early Target novelisation and which proved to be unattainable to view when the state of the Archives was finally divulged.
Talk about childhood traumas...
Great shot of Debbie and her Dad, and Fraser looking moody and serious. I was more used to seeing this cropped in the magazines, but I've left it full length here due to its iconic appearance on the original Chris Achilleos Target cover.
And here's Debbie again, in one of the few costumes she was given that actually suited her character. (I recall reading some fanwanky essay in the 1990s that postulated that Victoria Waterfield was actually a time traveller previous to meeting the Doctor, by the ease in which she later adopted clothing that in her own alleged period would have been judged obscene. Yeah, right).
Meanwhile, I still can't get over the rather uncomfortable similarity she has in these photos to an early girlfriend of mine. If only I had looked as good in a kilt, that could almost have been us up there. Although she did live very near the Welsh border, she never admitted to having a rather battered TARDIS prop to hand.
Oh, how my life could have been so much different...
And speaking of Wales, here's a good look at it. I always used to get mildly annoyed that these photos looked nothing like how my mental image of Serial NN's Himalayas should look like.
I'm over it now, you'll be glad to learn.
One great thing about "The Abominable Snowmen" is the amount of behind the scenes location pictures that did the rounds in the Monthly/Magazine. Probably more than studio images, and that's slightly unusual for the time.
Accusations of the Yeti looking somewhat "cute" in their first appearance do seem to be justified by the image above and the one below. More fearsome images certainly exist, but for some reason you hardly ever saw them at the time.
So here's a Yeti ambling down a hill again...
And being helped by Dirty Patrick to find a suitable loo in Tooting Bec...
While this one below always accompanied articles which commented on what Travers would term a "shy, elusive creature"... also known as Patrick Troughton's allegedly notorious reluctance to discuss acting the role of the Doctor in fear of compromising the "magic"...
Since having the humbling and almost life-changing opportunity to experience the Graham Strong audio soundtracks in the raw before they were used in the BBC Radio Collection presentations, "The Abominable Snowmen" has always been one of my go-to stories. With no incidental music to distract the listener, it's atmosphere all the way.
Relying on the brutal simplicity of moaning winds and control sphere and Yeti ambulatory Radiophonic effects, this is a story that winds up the tension purely on its own terms and reaps the sublime rewards.
And you wonder why I so despise the modern amateurish histrionics of Murray Gold...
While the sole surviving episode shows a serial with a distinct directorial flair in the visuals, it is the isolation and quiet of the monastery setting that in fact sets the pace of the story. Although one is tempted at times to consider the six episode length as excessive for the amount of plot on display, it does allow characterisations ample room to develop. And I am rather taken with Norman Jones' portrayal of Khrisong.
Tiresome liberal pissants will probably bemoan the racism of "slant-eye" make-up, but Jones gives a depth and humanism to Khrisong's ultimately tragic character that elevates the story into the truly magnificent.
And being largely extant solely on audio, the vocalisations of Padmasambhva's internal conflict with the Great Intelligence are granted even more breathing space. (Which is good, as telesnaps do record Wolfe Morris' make-up as being a bit naff around the mouth).
All in all, Doctor Who's best flirtation with Buddhism. Despite what Barry Letts may have said...
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