Running Through Corridors: Rob and Toby's Marathon Watch of Doctor Who (Volume 1: The 60s) (21 page)

But Tigilinus’ death is just part of a challenging endeavour to do farce (which is hard enough on a theatre stage) “as live”, with three cameras in a pokey studio. That takes some chutzpah, and makes this feel unlike anything we’ve seen in Doctor Who thus far. The Nero scenes in particular are a delight – Derek Francis pitches his performance just right, being delightfully funny but with an undercurrent of menace. When Nero corners Barbara for a drink, she downs a big goblet of wine (either with the intention of keeping the Emperor distracted, getting pissed, or both) – and it’s interesting that it was terrifying when Vasor had similar designs on Barbara, but here she treats the Emperor’s attentions as a slightly intolerable chore. That’s why Doctor Who works so well: it adapts to the tone of every adventure, and yet is still recognisably the same show.

And next week’s episode is entitled Inferno? I take it that Ian will be saved as a herd of Primords storm the Coliseum.

January 29th

Inferno (The Romans episode four)

R:
At first the Doctor is utterly floored by Vicki’s assertion that he had a hand in the Great Fire of Rome – the notion that he might have shaped history, however accidentally, simply doesn’t fit in with his worldview. And it’s only because there’s a new companion aboard the TARDIS who doesn’t understand the rules yet (at the story’s end, in spite of spending a month in his company, Vicki still hasn’t twigged that the Doctor can’t steer the Ship) that she’s able to open his eyes to the possibility. The series can be different from this point on, and the regulars can intervene more in the action, because Vicki can’t see why they shouldn’t.

And that’s very apt, because Maureen O’Brien genuinely is a breath of fresh air for the series – she’s got a great gift for comedy, downplaying the lines beautifully (the bit where she matter-of-factly told the Doctor in last week’s episode that she’s poisoned Nero was perfect), and hasn’t even come close to hysteria so far. For all the crises we’ve seen unfold, Vicki stubbornly insists on keeping the story light and playing the tourist – as she heads back to the TARDIS, she’s able to marvel at watching the Great Fire, and she delights in telling Ian and Barbara all about her adventures in such breathless detail that they’re unable to get a word in edgeways. It’s all part of Dennis Spooner’s plan to make the series a bit more
fun
, to make the idea of travelling on these adventures something any child watching would jump at. And it shapes the tone of the series for the next 15 years or so... right up to the eighties, when companions start finding the idea of popping around time and space in the TARDIS once again something of a chore.

There are some dark moments to this episode – the best surely being the way Nero stabs the soldier holding Barbara because he didn’t fight hard enough. But part of the joy of the story is that it’s so determinedly superficial. For all that Barbara and Ian have been through, within
seconds
of arriving back at the villa, they’re making jokes about “the fridge” once more, and cavorting about as if they’ve never been sold into slavery. How do you feel about this, Toby? Is it a bad thing? I feel it’s very clever – the more sophisticated audience can see the more serious themes in the story; the way that William Hartnell’s delighted giggling at the idea he might have started the Fire merges into Derek Francis’ madman laughter speaks volumes about the contrast between the protective bubble that surrounds these happy adventurers and the real-life world they leave behind them. But this way, the series can continue. You can explore all aspects of Roman society that you wish, no matter how brutal, safe in the knowledge that you won’t traumatise the regulars in the process, leaving them fresh for their next adventure. It’s the beginning of Doctor Who as an anthology series rather than a continuous storyline – and I think it’s that change which guarantees its survival.

T:
It’s absolutely fine that Ian and Barbara recover from their ordeals so quickly; the onset of post-traumatic stress wouldn’t have been in keeping with the world of this story. And by “world”, I don’t mean physical location, I mean the dramatic world created here, where death is funny, assassins are blundering dolts and the razing of a city is the punchline. Each Doctor Who story has its own world (well,
ideally
it does), with the creative team setting the tone and thus the rules to be followed. Fortunately, the series’ lead actors are versatile enough to effectively deliver whatever style they’re asked. Just note the deadpan way Hartnell reacts to Nero’s outlandish threats to put him on an island and raise the alligator-infested waters – he’s going for the laugh, not attempting to give a psychologically plausible reaction to the idea (which he’s perfectly capable of doing as well).

And whilst much of this is very funny, the casual murders and terrifying plight of those in the arena jails isn’t sugarcoated. It’s interesting, for instance, that nobody went back for Dorothy-Rose – so one must assume she’s lion lunch. Even Sevcheria (who has somehow gone from being an independent slave-trader in episode one to here working as Nero’s lackey) is rather harshly dispatched by a burning torch to the face.

But if we’re talking about killing, there’s one element of this story that retroactively sticks out: we’re here told that the real Maximus Petullian was going to assassinate Nero, but do you
remember
the character as seen from episode one? He could barely walk! Unless he’s continually acting decrepit to pass himself as a doddering old man (in which case, he should’ve fared better against the slave who killed him), he looks like the sort of person who could hardly harm a stalk of broccoli, let alone murder an emperor. In an era where nobody had recourse to repeated viewings, the programme-makers clearly expected the audience to remember the pot gag and fridge joke made three weeks ago, and yet not to recall the geriatric infirmity of a would-be assassin. Glorious!

Overall, this story had been such a ball, and proves you can get away with virtually any humour if the world you’ve created supports it. I don’t admire The Romans as much as some of the straighter historicals, but it’s not asking for admiration, it’s mostly asking for chuckles – and it delivers those in spades.

Oh, and Ian and Babs have clearly had sex again.

The Web Planet (episode one)

R:
The planet Vortis feels unlike anything we’ve yet seen in Doctor Who. It isn’t just the Vaseline on the lens to give the atmosphere an “alien” feel – although I like that, and think it sets up a really nice contrast between the scenes on the planet’s surface and the ordinariness of the TARDIS interior. It isn’t just the sense there’s a
scale
to this place – I love the moons in the background, and the crags, and just how odd all the shapes are. It isn’t even the peculiar sounds of those giant ants, which are so invasive they even give the cast a headache. No, it’s actually a deceptively small thing – that to roam about on the planet safely, Ian and the Doctor are obliged to change their costumes, and put on Atmospheric Density Jackets. However exotic some of the trappings of Skaro or Marinus, the fact you could walk around on either in ordinary clothing did rather suggest it was a BBC set. Here at last, there’s attention being given to the notion we’re somewhere very distant and very alien, and it brings back a sense of wonder and danger to the series. In any other story, the TARDIS disappearing at the end might be seen as an inconvenience, another of those plot devices used to keep everyone from just popping off into the next adventure. Here, it strands the Doctor in an environment which seems unknowable, and that’s far more frightening.

I love too the way that Bill Strutton’s script emphasises the difference between Barbara’s culture and Vicki’s – the way that Future Girl looks at Sixties Teacher as something really rather primitive, and how Barbara’s attempts to fob Vicki off with aspirin are rather the equivalent of our being presented with leeches. It’s funny, but it also gives Vicki just that bit of extra character she needs. Before too long the series’ format will mean that she’s required to have just the same reaction to things as anyone else, and then Ian and Barbara will disappear altogether and we’ll lose any real sense of a contemporary viewpoint upon the series. So it’s important that we get these distinctions between the regulars when we can. Maureen O’Brien, like Carole Ann Ford before her, seizes upon moments that can accentuate her “otherness” – the way she laughs in reaction to Barbara’s concern about what’s happening to her arm, and the look of hurt surprise upon her face when Barbara persists in taking the crisis seriously.

And, look! A quadruple cliffhanger! Ian caught in a snare, Barbara walking towards a pool of acid, Vicki in an out-of-control TARDIS, and the Doctor looking utterly bereft to find the Ship has vanished. It’s beautifully done.

T:
I have a confession to make. This is the only Doctor Who story I have ever recorded over. The Kevin Costner film The Untouchables was playing, and I’d really enjoyed it when I saw it at my friend Jon’s house – and, er, I figured I’d probably rewatch it more than this. I felt dirty doing it, and never again erased even a moment of Who from my collection. Even now, I still have hundreds of videos I’m not quite sure what to do with (I haven’t the time or technical nous to efficiently move everything over to DVD).

It’s a surprise then, that I find this opening instalment to be very impressive. The lens distortion provokes odd shafts of light and abstract glistening that is very effective, the soundscape is horribly invasive (especially when Barbara is being dragged from the Ship) and there are some neat tricks (the echoing voices, Ian’s pen whizzing out of his hand). I also take solace in the fact that Barbara chides the Doctor for being messy... a genius doesn’t have time to tidy up! (That’s what I’m trying to convince K, anyway.)

And the Vicki/Barbara culture-clash scene you mention is nice, yes, but it curiously seems a diametrically opposed vision of the future to the one I expect. Instead of learning medicine at ten, I fear that the way things are going, the kids of the future will be getting GCSEs in Thomas the Tank Engine and degrees in Walking in a Straight Line and Talking at the Same Time, just to fulfill government pass rate targets. (Sorry to digress, but I saw an apostrophe on a plural on the whiteboard at my son’s school this morning – these have been medically proven to turn radical young bon vivants into grumpy old farts.)

January 30th

The Zarbi (The Web Planet episode two)

R:
This episode we get the chance to see the monsters in greater detail, and I have to say – the Zarbi look fab. Really. I think it’s telling that these are the first alien beings since the Daleks to break away from using the human form, and it makes them the most honestly alien and unknowable lifeform we’ve encountered since then. There’s something very unreasonable about a giant insect: you can’t chat to them, you can’t confide in them, and their motives seem emotionless and calculated as they round up all the travellers and prod at them with their legs. The trick is that they don’t
talk
, and that’s so much more threatening. And it leads to a wonderful cliffhanger when they’ve finally shepherded the Doctor under a strange alien tube, and at last the civilisation is given a voice. It’s an unexpected voice at that, strong and feminine – “Why do you come now?”, it asks. It’s hostile and it’s demanding, and it wrongfoots the viewer entirely.

If the Zarbi are the new Daleks, then I suppose the Menoptra are the new Thals. There’s just a bit
too
much effort going on to make the Menoptra more interesting than the Thals, when simply sticking them in butterfly costumes and making them consider whether to kill Barbara or not would have sufficed. Roslyn de Winter is the best actor amongst them, but she’s also credited in the end titles with “Insect Movement”, which suggests she’s responsible for the strange hand wavings and head tiltings – and, no doubt, the rather fey and over-deliberate manner of speaking. But even if all of this is just a tad too distracting, and you’re so busy marvelling at all the attention given to making these new creatures different that you forget to listen to their dialogue, they still feel intriguingly exotic.

Opening episodes which establish wholly alien worlds usually blow it in the second instalment when mysteries need to be solved and characters to be introduced. The opening episode of The Web Planet doesn’t do this, and that’s to be admired; it’s sold largely by the efforts of the regulars. Hartnell contrasts his rather giggly performance last week with something much more sombre now he feels the situation is desperate, and Hill, who was invited to faint at the sight of a giant insect a few stories ago, struggles to be brave in front of them here. My favourite scene of all, though, shows the calm practicality of William Russell, as he persuades the Doctor to take off his jacket and get used to the planet’s atmosphere. It has a brave stoicism to it that suggests he’s stripping away his life support, and needing to determine whether or not the shock will kill him.

T:
If we’re considering the effectiveness of the creatures on Vortis, then I should note that in the novelisation, the Menoptra are better portrayed as individual characters. But they don’t really manage that here, with the actors involved are lumbered with those crazy staccato speech patterns, and hand movements that suggest they’re applying nipple clamps. It’s decent of them to have a go at it, yes, and this is probably a more realistic way of conveying that they’re alien than if they’d moved and spoken like humans (as they do on so many alien worlds), but it doesn’t exactly help sell us on the drama.

What
does
work in terms of dramatic intent is that genuinely horrifying moment when the Zarbi force Hrostar to his knees and nibble his wings off. It’s made worse because we can’t
see
exactly what’s happening, but the close-up of Barbara’s face tells you it isn’t anything nice. The only shame here is that this is prefigured by Hrhoonda’s wings dropping off when he’s shot, causing everyone to trip over them.

By the way, is this the first time that something other than the regulars has been in the TARDIS? Even though the Zarbi’s attempt to enter is thwarted, seeing that giant ant framed by the roundels feels like a genuinely threatening moment, because no-one has hitherto crossed that threshold, defiled that sanctuary. Also, it’s telling that this is the second time in a row that the Doctor has a pre-knowledge of the planet on which he’s landed – it’ll be interesting to see how soon this becomes the norm, and he transitions from being a daffy amateur traveller to the omniscient wiseacre we now recognize him as.

And for benefit of fans of The Untouchables (again, the prized movie that compelled me, back in the day, to tape over The Web Planet), let me just say: The Menoptra aren’t that well armed. You shouldn’t bring a stick to a grub fight. And if they send one of yours to The Crater of Needles, you need to send one of theirs to The Centre of Terror. That’s the Vortis way.

Escape to Danger (The Web Planet episode three)

R:
All the scenes where the Doctor talks to the Animus are
fantastic.
For a start, Catherine Fleming’s voice-performance really is spot on – this is a peculiar story of actors doing insect movements, flying about, and even running into the camera underneath giant ant costumes, and what makes the central villain so fascinating is that to contrast all this overelaborate design, Fleming downplays the role. She’s cold and inhuman and – above all else –
invisible
, and when so much else in the story tries to distract your attention with its curious visuals, with voice alone she makes these scenes have a focus which feel so much more dangerous. And Hartnell is terrific too. He plays the Doctor at first with a polite distance, trying to size up the entity he’s communicating with. And then, over the course of the episode – as he deceives her and cajoles her and tries to bargain with her – he establishes too with his very
deliberate
and (rarely for this Doctor) minimalist acting that he’s a shrewd diplomat. We haven’t seen the Doctor be this cool and this manipulative and this controlled since... well, ever, actually. At his most likeable, Hartnell’s Doctor is a creature of giggles and tics and fluffs – it’s only in scenes like these we can see that this is all as much of an act as Tom Baker’s clowning, or David Tennant’s boyish exuberance. When the chips are down, there’s a steely intelligence to this Doctor that he often masks for his companions.

And speaking of future Doctors... I rather love the sequence where the Doctor tries to comfort Vicki by offering her a sweet. Okay, he’s not picked up any jelly babies yet – it’s just a slab of chocolate – but out comes the bag of sweets from his pocket, and he’s that loveable old grandfather figure again.

T:
Hmm... I take back what I said last week about the Menoptra’s mannerisms interfering with the drama; as I spend more time in their company, I’ve stopped being distracted by them (much like, I suppose, the way you’re no longer distracted by aeroplane noise if you live near Heathrow for a while). Also, let me give some credit to the Zarbi operators – they have to spend the whole episode not standing up straight, being weighed down by a pretty hefty costume, so I find it forgivable when one crashes into the camera (especially in the days when editing out such a mishap wasn’t really feasible; these days, such a goof would never have been left in the story). Whoever’s inside the Zarbi that Ian tussles with deserves a medal, as he remains upright under quite a hefty onslaught from Russell.

The cliffhanger leaps out at me as being terribly odd, though –
I
know what happens, but I’m not sure it’s clear to a virgin audience. Vrestin says the ground is giving way and Ian moves to help... all right, but then sand falls
on top
of him, and it doesn’t help matters that we then move to outside the cave and see a lot of confused-looking Zarbi. I would hazard a guess that the script read “Ian and Vrestin fall through the floor – cue titles,” not “Ian and Vrestin fall through the floor, then we see some Zarbi milling about for a bit, then cue titles at a random juncture, thus robbing the cliffhanger of a climactic moment,” and can’t help but think (sorry about this) that it’s a haphazard addition on Richard Martin’s part.

But if I’m trying to stay positive here, I should mention that I’m finding enjoyment in lots of little places. With all the aliens on show it’s easy to ignore some of the lyricism in Strutton’s writing – the strange crying that de Winter does works really well and shows that some of her insect inventions have real plausibility. And whatever the datedness of the costumes, Vrestin looks damned impressive when she unexpectedly takes off and starts flying. Also, I
love
the title “Escape to Danger”: those three words became ubiquitous when used for Target novel chapter names, so I feel comfy and nostalgic every time I see them hit the screen. It’s like wrapping myself in a large, geeky blanket.

January 31st

The Crater of Needles (The Web Planet episode four)

R:
Look who’s just come flying in! It’s Martin Jarvis! Martin’s been my producer at BBC Radio for nearly ten years now, and is one of my best friends. When you and I are in Los Angeles for the Gallifrey convention in a couple of weeks, Toby, I’ll go and stay with Martin for a bit once the show is over. We sometimes talk about Vengeance on Varos. Once in a while we’ll dip our toes into Invasion of the Dinosaurs. But we never – repeat
never –
discuss The Web Planet. Hmm. I wonder why.