Timeless Adventures (9 page)

More ambitious was the following year’s sequel –
Daleks’ Invasion Earth: 2150AD
. As the title suggests, the focus was clearly on the Daleks rather than the Doctor, and on spectacle over the more thoughtful content of the TV episodes. Again, the original serial,
The Dalek Invasion of Earth
, was condensed from six episodes to a sprightly 81 minutes by concentrating on the action and adventure elements of the story and dropping most of the philosophical content that Nation’s original scripts contained.

Both movies succeeded with the audience they were aimed at: children. By 1966, however, the second film had fared less successfully at the box office, suggesting that the hankering after all-things-Dalek was beginning to wane. Plans for a third full-colour
Doctor Who
film, possibly adapting
The Keys of Marinus
, were abandoned. The Daleks had not been seen on television since early 1966, though they had appeared on the London stage in the play
The Curse of the Daleks
between December 1965 and January 1966.
Doctor Who
itself appeared to be evolving in a new direction, away from the cliff-hanger space fantasies of its first two years and towards a more down-to-Earth thriller format, as indicated by the late-Hartnell period serial
The
War Machines
.

The most unusual episode of
The Daleks’ Master Plan
was a comedydriven Christmas Day run-around set behind the scenes of a silentera film studio and featuring a spoof of fellow BBC TV show
Z-Cars
. In a development probably unnoticed by viewers, this episode brought the Doctor to Earth (1965) for the first time since the debut episode of the show,
An Unearthly Child
(although
Planet of the Giants
was set on contemporary Earth, the TARDIS crew were miniaturised).

The idea of rooting the Doctor’s adventures in a more recognisable environment would take hold over the next few years, resulting in many periods of the show’s history being heavily Earthbound or Earth-centric (much of Jon Pertwee’s time, as well as the majority of the episodes of the revived show). The first time this was really tried properly was in
The War Machines
.

Doctor Who
was clearly a significant part of the culture of swinging 1960s Britain, although the show itself had largely failed to acknowledge this significant cultural moment.
The War Machines
sets up much that would become central to
Doctor Who
(and perhaps, more importantly, central to the public image of
Doctor Who
). It is set in then-contemporary Britain (1966), and features an evil or a villain based around an easily recognisable landmark (the then-new Post Office Tower), a ‘modern’ development ripped from the day’s headlines (computers) and media reports by genuine TV newsreaders (Kenneth Kendall), as well as building in a military response to an attempt to invade/takeover the Earth/Home Counties. The specifics here are that powerful new computer WOTAN has been established in the Post Office Tower. Linking up with other computers around the world, WOTAN decides humankind is inferior and the machines should rule the Earth (a now-clichéd SF plot later echoed in films like
Colossus: The Forbin Project
[1970] and
The Terminator
[1984]). WOTAN organises the construction of robotic weapons, the ‘war machines’, and attempts to subjugate London. Out to stop the evil computer, the Doctor is joined by two new companions who are so ‘swinging London’ it hurts. Merchant seaman Ben (Michael Craze) and civil-service secretary Polly (Anneke Wills) provide the model for most subsequent Earth companions, from Jo Grant and Sarah Jane Smith in the 1970s to Ace and Rose Tyler in the 1980s and twenty-first century, reflecting much of the viewing audience in a way few companions prior to this ever did (with the notable exception of Ian and Barbara, neither of whom could be considered ‘swinging’).

The War Machines
succeeded because it connected directly with the TV viewing audience. WOTAN uses telephone lines to communicate with and hypnotise those people it uses in its plan. With every home in the land installing a telephone, the threat had more reality than any battle with the Daleks in a far-off, futuristic, alien world. The action was taking place on streets and in environments that almost all those watching would recognise: it made the series relevant to viewers (a lesson that had been learned from
The Dalek Invasion of Earth
, nominally set in the future). Another important development instituted on
The War Machines
, and laying down groundwork for the immediate future of the series, was the involvement of a genuine ‘scientific advisor’. New
Doctor Who
producer Innes Lloyd (who had succeeded Verity Lambert’s short-lived successor John Wiles after
Galaxy 4
) and his script editor Gerry Davis drew on the services of Doctor Kit Pedler, a well-known TV pundit on scientific matters. Although consulted specifically to give some scientific accuracy to the serial’s computers, Pedler would play a larger part in the coming Troughton era, contributing greatly to the establishment of the Cybermen. Similarly, the 1970s producer-and-script-editor team of Barry Letts and Terrance Dicks would consult scientific magazines like
New Scientist
to find developments in science and technology upon which they could base exciting
Doctor Who
stories.
The War Machines
saw
Doctor Who
abandon the weird, far-out space fantasy of most William Hartnell episodes in favour of slick, often-contemporary or near-future SF thrillers dealing with the big scientific issues of the day. This change of approach was a harbinger of a bigger change coming for the programme, as William Hartnell neared the end of his time as the First Doctor.

There are many pop cultural icons that have been played, on film or on stage, by different actors who have brought their own unique interpretation to the roles. Several actors have played Sherlock Holmes, Superman and James Bond, and made their mark. Similarly, many see it as a challenge to deliver ‘their’ Hamlet, just as Tenth Doctor David Tennant did in the summer of 2008.

The recasting of the title character of
Doctor Who
, however, was a unique stroke of genius that, more than even the TARDIS, or the Daleks, or the show’s wonderfully open-ended concept of exploration of time and space, allowed the series to prosper and change for over 45 years. The simple fact of being able to change the lead actor, introducing not only a new face but essentially a new character, and yet claim he’s still the same person, is unique in television history. Each new Doctor can refer back to his predecessors as they are all part of an ongoing (albeit loose) continuity. There had been thoughts of replacing William Hartnell before 1966, and the idea of a different actor playing the character had been established when Peter Cushing provided a different interpretation in the big-screen Dalek remakes.

During
Doctor Who
’s third year on air, producers John Wiles and Innes Lloyd gave some thought to replacing Hartnell. Increasing health problems and a reputation for being difficult led each of the new producers to ponder how
Doctor Who
could continue without the lead actor. Broadcast in April 1966, the fantasy/‘sideways’ story
The Celestial Toymaker
saw the Doctor made invisible by the powerful, God-like Toymaker character (Michael Gough). One plan hatched by Wiles was to simply replace Hartnell by having the Toymaker restore the Doctor in a different body. The series could then continue with a new lead actor. Although not implemented, the thought of continuing the series without Hartnell had been mooted and it would be down to Lloyd, the then-current producer, to later enact the proposal.

Besides the change of lead actor, Hartnell’s final adventure,
The Tenth Planet
, is also notable for introducing
Doctor Who
’s second-best-known monsters, the Cybermen. Following his work ensuring the scientific veracity of
The War Machines
, Kit Pedler was consulted by Lloyd on a variety of cutting-edge science concepts with a view to working them into other
Doctor Who
stories. The concept for the Cybermen developed from mid-1960s anxieties about organ replacement, then just beginning with successful heart transplants. The Cybermen were a race of humanoids from Earth’s twin planet Mondas who had taken cybernetic replacement of failing limbs and organs to an extreme. Either as a deliberate policy or as a consequence of their conversion to a cyborg race, the Cybermen had removed, lost or inhibited their emotions. The warning was that Wilson’s ‘white heat’ of technological process could have its downsides, as well as its benefits. Pedler extrapolated the Cybermen from trends in 1960s medicine – from a growth in cosmetic surgery and the use of technology to replace previously organic parts through to an increasing use of drugs to manage emotional or mental disturbance. At the same time, NASA were considering the survival of humanity in space. Several solutions were proposed, ranging from cybernetically augmented space suits to a blending of humans and spacecraft. Surgically or mechanically augmented humans were sometimes referred to as cyborgs, short for ‘cybernetic organism’.

Combining these topics resulted in the Cybermen, presented in their first appearance as bandaged survivors, still clearly largely-organic. Lloyd was so taken by the creatures they quickly became a staple enemy, and were a returning monster for the rest of the decade.
The Tenth Planet
also established another format that would be ruthlessly exploited over the next few years: the base-under-siege story. The Cybermen begin their invasion of Earth at the South Pole in December 1986, assaulting an isolated space-tracking station. This set-up would recur in many of the stories made over the next three years, providing a ready-made template into which a variety of themes (and monsters) could be incorporated.

At the story’s climax, as 7.5 million viewers watched, the Cybermen were defeated and their planet destroyed. A worn-out Doctor stumbled back to the TARDIS and, collapsing onto the floor, physically changed before his new companions’ eyes. Signs had been building that all was not well with the Doctor – during
The Tenth Planet
he had commented that his body was ‘wearing a bit thin’, while his encounter with the Daleks’ Time Destructor in
The Daleks’ Master Plan
had adversely affected him, as had having his life force partially drained in
The Savages
. Although the concept of regeneration would become central to the series, at this point it was referred to as ‘renewal’: a change of bodily form, but not necessarily personality. Practically speaking, however, a different actor in the role meant a new personality.

Change had come not a moment too soon for
Doctor Who
. Ratings towards the end of Hartnell’s time were falling after the highs of Dalekmania. It wasn’t unusual during the first two seasons for serials to rate anywhere between nine million and 12.5 million viewers. However, while the third season started at a high of 9.9 million for the gender role-reversal space opera of
Galaxy 4
, viewing figures had tumbled to around five million for both
The Savages
and the format freshening
The War Machines
. Changing the lead actor and the character of the Doctor in November 1966 (just seven months after Harold Wilson had regenerated himself, securing a new lease of political life in a second election victory) proved to be a masterstroke. The novelty factor alone must have attracted a significant number of viewers, and audience figures for Patrick Troughton’s three seasons in the title role consistently held at around the seven-million mark.

As the First Doctor himself said in
The Sensorites
: ‘It all started out as a mild curiosity in a junkyard and now it’s turned out to be quite a great spirit of adventure.’ Now
Doctor Who
itself had a sense of rejuvenation, a fresh start with a new lead actor, and a whole new spirit of adventure awaited.

As a product of the BBC’s unique institutional set-up,
Doctor Who
operated within a production process that changed little between the 1960s and the 1980s. From the start,
Doctor Who
faced technical challenges, and the show’s ambition had been curtailed by the means of production available. In 1963, the producers had to work with the resources to hand. This served to limit what could be achieved on screen, while also (conversely) allowing the series to serve as a test subject for new technologies, from ‘inlay’ and Colour Separation Overlay (CSO, the BBC’s 1970s version of blue- or green-screen production) to ‘Scene-Sync’ on 1980’s
Meglos
and even 3D for 1993’s
Children
in Need
charity skit,
Dimensions in Time
.

While Verity Lambert and her production team were figuring out exactly what
Doctor Who
should be during the early months of 1963, the studio facilities allocated were causing much consternation and resulted in many caustic internal memos. Contrary to popular belief,
Doctor Who
was never transmitted live, but the early episodes were more or less recorded ‘as live’, with usually one recording break. This was due to the primitive videotape recording system used. Videotape editing was prohibitively expensive in 1963, so the only ‘edit’ allowed was to stop and start the recording in an emergency. Episodes were often shot using three cameras to cover the principal characters and any action. The cameras could not change lenses mid-shot, so close-ups of actors in dramatic moments were only possible by ‘dollying’ (moving in on the subject on tracks or wheels) the camera into the scene itself. These – and a whole host of other limitations arising from shooting the series in Lime Grove Studio D – account for the unique look and feel of
Doctor Who
for most of its first years on air.

This production process explains the distinctive way in which early
Doctor Who
recreated history or imagined far-off alien civilisations. Sometimes the show would try to work within these restrictions, and writers and producers would be realistic about what could be achieved on a budget of somewhere around £2,300 per episode. At other times, attempts would be made to produce something more ambitious, like the truly alien environment and insectoid eco-system of
The Web Planet
.