Plot:
The Doctor and TARDIS are forced to land on a Space Station where he is put on trial by his people, the Time Lords. Or, maybe it's an enquiry not a trial. Or an enquiry that turns into a trial. Anyway, none of that matters as proceedings essentially take the form of a fan group marathon watch of Colin Baker episodes: a lot of people with an interest in the Doctor watch several stories one after the other on a TV screen, and the most opinionated pair in the room have a big argument about whether the Doctor's good in them or not. The first story that prosecutor the Valeyard presents is about the Doctor's trip to Ravolox, a very Earth-like planet that turns out to be Earth. So, not that mysterious, really.
The Doctor investigates with help from Peri, and a pair of intergalactic dodgy dealers, Sabalom Glitz and his minder Dibber. It turns out some hackers from Andromeda had retreated to Earth with a lot of high-tech data that they'd stolen from the biggest net of information in the universe. They went into suspended animation awaiting their pick-up ship to arrive, but then Earth was somehow moved across space, meaning they were never rescued. This caused a fireball which almost destroyed the planet. Their robot, Drathro, is left with instructions to keep an underground survival chamber going, with a slave population - the only humans left alive. Over 500 years, during which time the Andromedan sleepers have died, Drathro has culled many humans to keep the underground population stable; some have been released secretly by the human guards to live as primitives outside the underground complex. The Doctor saves the humans, avoiding a explosion from Drathro's failing power system. The trial continues...Context:
I watched on my own from the from the DVD, a couple of episodes one weekend, then a gap before finishing off the second pair of episodes a week later. Members of the family dropped in and out of the living room as I watched, but nobody was engaged enough to sit down for long. The Better Half managed ten minutes of the first episode before bailing.
First-time round:
One of the clichés voiced in interviews with Doctor Who viewers of a certain age (repeated again by Bradley Walsh in this month's Doctor Who Magazine) is the interviewee, after having followed Doctor Who diligently when younger, drifting away from regular watching as they hit their teenage years. This was happening to me too by 1985, with a few episodes of Colin Baker's first full year clashing with other things I was doing on a Saturday. In the longer than usual break between that season and the Trial of a Time Lord, though, my family got its first ever VCR. Like many fans during this decade, I suddenly had the agony of choice edited out of my life. I could go out and do my teenage Saturday thing without having to put aside childish things to do so (or at least, I only had to put them aside for a couple of hours, then I could come home and catch up on a recording of childish things from earlier). Two E180 tapes were enough - with LP-mode doubling the storage capacity - for the whole 14 episode season. But I wonder if all those spools of tape were strangling the life out of me. What would have happened had I had to make that choice? Would I have been forced to grow up? What could I have become? I'll never know.
The Trial story, with its plot arcing over three and a bit months, was a perfect candidate for re-watching. Alas, my previously reported ineptitude with programming the VCR meant that I missed certain episodes or sections of them, so my home recording of Trial was never complete. These first four episodes were intact though, and I did view them many many times in a short period of time. As such, this story has a certain place in my heart. Despite this, I did not see what Glitz was mouthing in the bleeped-out excised evidence section in episode 4, even though it should have been screamingly obvious from which information store the sleepers swiped the story's MacGuffin. A couple of weeks later, my schoolfriend Dominic clued me in; I then went back and watched that section multiple times too, making sure he was right. This was a sort of anti-spoiler: rather than give anything away, it created some much needed intrigue for how things were going to pan out.
Reaction
The Trial story, with its plot arcing over three and a bit months, was a perfect candidate for re-watching. Alas, my previously reported ineptitude with programming the VCR meant that I missed certain episodes or sections of them, so my home recording of Trial was never complete. These first four episodes were intact though, and I did view them many many times in a short period of time. As such, this story has a certain place in my heart. Despite this, I did not see what Glitz was mouthing in the bleeped-out excised evidence section in episode 4, even though it should have been screamingly obvious from which information store the sleepers swiped the story's MacGuffin. A couple of weeks later, my schoolfriend Dominic clued me in; I then went back and watched that section multiple times too, making sure he was right. This was a sort of anti-spoiler: rather than give anything away, it created some much needed intrigue for how things were going to pan out.Reaction
Watching in a random order is hard on closely linked sets of stories. For example: early on, I watched the big finale of Tom Baker's
Key to Time season before any of its other parts, and found it even more lacking
without the half-decent preceding stories to bolster it. I was watching
The Mysterious Planet this time only a few months on from watching the third part of the Trial.
That third part, the Vervoids story, is usually the point when
watching sequentially one gets sick of all the cutting back to the courtroom; this time, I was being annoyed by that in episode 1 (when previously watching in
the right order, it was still early enough for me to be more forgiving). It
makes me more sure than ever that the framing structure of the trial is a wrong-headed idea, and nothing could ever have been done to make it work. You can only tolerate it, never enjoy it. Plus, the device relegates what would have been each main story to a B subplot, and robs it of all immediacy by having it shown as reported past tense action.
Episodes 2 and 3 both have great, traditional "how are they going to get out of that?" cliffhangers within the Ravolox plotline, but they are undermined. We always know at some level the Doctor's going to survive to next week, I know, but we're not usually explicitly told he's already survived and is looking back on these events from a safe distance. Each segment of the overall trial tale is therefore two completely different stories fighting against one another. The more interesting one is happening in the past; the one happening in the present is static and dull. Nothing happens in the trial sections over the course of these four episodes. That plot does not move much at all, in fact, for the first 12 episodes; there are only three or four beats in total: the Doctor's on trial for his life, he's lost his memory, the evidence is being tampered with, he's inadvertently made himself look guilty of genocide. That's it.
In order to justify hiring the actors and building the set, though, the action has to keep jerking us back to the courtroom, interrupting the flow. With no plot to work through and an average of three courtroom scenes per episode, there's only so much they can do to fill: a smidgen of exposition, the odd meta gag about the real world of show ("I would appreciate it if these brutal and repetitious scenes are reduced to a minimum") but mostly all that's left for anyone to do is bluster. Colin Baker does his best with the material, but he has no room for manoeuvre: he's reduced to shouting, waving his arms, and calling his opponent a series of increasingly unfunny names.
On Ravolox, meanwhile, things are much better. Colin Baker and Nicola Bryant are playing against the tiresome bickering that marred their first full series together. With line readings and small actions alone, they override the script to create an warmly affectionate but teasing friendship. It's just a shame that they can't do anything about the lines where Peri moans on about wanting to get back to the TARDIS: why did it take most of the 1980s for someone to realise that the audience identification figure shouldn't act like they don't want to be part of the series?! The guest cast are all good: Joan Sims playing it straight, Tony Selby and Glen Murphy memorably performing the last of writer Robert Holmes's comic double acts. The sets and robot costumes are good, the use of the Butser Ancient Farm location - a living historical recreation - as the Tribe of the Free's village is clever. The running gag about the post-apocalyptic future's misunderstanding of salvaged texts ("UK Habitats of the Canadian Goose by HM Stationary Office") is witty.
Whatever the production's resources, though, nothing is enough to break out of the restrictive structure imposed upon the story by the trial idea. The first few minutes of episode 1 epitomise this: the credits give way to the magnificent opening model shot of the space station accompanied by Dominic Glynn's majestic surging score, the screen whites out: it looks like it's going to be the best thing ever! Then we cut to a drab looking set, and Colin in his costume - which we've had extra months since last season to forget but instantly realise was every bit as bad as we remembered. He walks into another drab set and exchanges lines of dull bafflegab with people in silly hats about Time Lord nonsense. It's not much of a reboot. In almost the words of The (not Doctor) Who: "Here comes the new toss, same as the old toss..."
Episodes 2 and 3 both have great, traditional "how are they going to get out of that?" cliffhangers within the Ravolox plotline, but they are undermined. We always know at some level the Doctor's going to survive to next week, I know, but we're not usually explicitly told he's already survived and is looking back on these events from a safe distance. Each segment of the overall trial tale is therefore two completely different stories fighting against one another. The more interesting one is happening in the past; the one happening in the present is static and dull. Nothing happens in the trial sections over the course of these four episodes. That plot does not move much at all, in fact, for the first 12 episodes; there are only three or four beats in total: the Doctor's on trial for his life, he's lost his memory, the evidence is being tampered with, he's inadvertently made himself look guilty of genocide. That's it.In order to justify hiring the actors and building the set, though, the action has to keep jerking us back to the courtroom, interrupting the flow. With no plot to work through and an average of three courtroom scenes per episode, there's only so much they can do to fill: a smidgen of exposition, the odd meta gag about the real world of show ("I would appreciate it if these brutal and repetitious scenes are reduced to a minimum") but mostly all that's left for anyone to do is bluster. Colin Baker does his best with the material, but he has no room for manoeuvre: he's reduced to shouting, waving his arms, and calling his opponent a series of increasingly unfunny names.
On Ravolox, meanwhile, things are much better. Colin Baker and Nicola Bryant are playing against the tiresome bickering that marred their first full series together. With line readings and small actions alone, they override the script to create an warmly affectionate but teasing friendship. It's just a shame that they can't do anything about the lines where Peri moans on about wanting to get back to the TARDIS: why did it take most of the 1980s for someone to realise that the audience identification figure shouldn't act like they don't want to be part of the series?! The guest cast are all good: Joan Sims playing it straight, Tony Selby and Glen Murphy memorably performing the last of writer Robert Holmes's comic double acts. The sets and robot costumes are good, the use of the Butser Ancient Farm location - a living historical recreation - as the Tribe of the Free's village is clever. The running gag about the post-apocalyptic future's misunderstanding of salvaged texts ("UK Habitats of the Canadian Goose by HM Stationary Office") is witty.Whatever the production's resources, though, nothing is enough to break out of the restrictive structure imposed upon the story by the trial idea. The first few minutes of episode 1 epitomise this: the credits give way to the magnificent opening model shot of the space station accompanied by Dominic Glynn's majestic surging score, the screen whites out: it looks like it's going to be the best thing ever! Then we cut to a drab looking set, and Colin in his costume - which we've had extra months since last season to forget but instantly realise was every bit as bad as we remembered. He walks into another drab set and exchanges lines of dull bafflegab with people in silly hats about Time Lord nonsense. It's not much of a reboot. In almost the words of The (not Doctor) Who: "Here comes the new toss, same as the old toss..."
Connectivity:
The Mysterious Planet, like The Woman Who Fell to Earth, is a Autumn relaunch episode following on from the end of the previous Doctor Who series a year and a bit before; both stories have a new theme tune arrangement that's heavy on the synth drums.
Deeper Thoughts:
Did Michael Grade have a point? In 1989, when the original run of Doctor Who as an ongoing series ended, the powers that Beeb didn't really want to cancel it, they just wanted it to break for a rethink. In 1985, Controller of BBC1 Michael Grade did want to cancel Doctor Who; but, because of a public outcry, he ended up only making it have a break for a rethink. Oddly, this inadvertent action was probably the right one: the show did need changes to keep up with the times. The 50-minute episodes established in Colin's first full year were a good first step, but maybe Doctor Who should have been making episodes all on film like many other dramas of the time, maybe even making fewer 90-minute stand-alone film episodes (a format that the first ever Inspector Morse, filmed around the same time as Trial, was about to showcase). The action-oriented approach of previous years was good, but the tone and content of the stories needed looking at.
None of this happened when Doctor Who returned in 1986, and - apart from backward steps - nothing changed at all. Grade wasn't interested enough in rebooting the show to give detailed guidance (it wasn't his job anyway), and he certainly wasn't going to give the production any more money. The 1980s producer John Nathan-Turner and his script editor Eric Saward only really had the option of doing less of the same. Or did they? What Grade could control, he did, and somewhat to Doctor Who's benefit. On the Special Features section of the Trial DVD are compiled the contemporary trails and continuity from The Mysterious Planet's debut broadcast. Watching them, I was struck that the 1986 Saturday night line-up is nicely structured. Doctor Who comes after a lead-in from a programme for slightly younger kids and is then followed by shiny-floored quiz and entertainment shows. It's very similar to the schedules that had served it well in the 1970s and 2000s. The problem is that the quality of each of those 1986 Saturday night shows is, well, a bit mid-Eighties. Instead of Basil Brush, you've got Roland Rat; instead of Brucie, Paul Daniels. It might seem horribly unfair, but Doctor Who's slightly lacklustre content fits neatly in to such a line-up.
Did Nathan-Turner and Saward do enough with what they had? They didn't even ditch Colin Baker's costume. After all, a year after Trial, incoming script editor Andrew Cartmel brought in a lot of changes to the approach without an increase in budget and without any opportunity to make fundamental structural changes. This feeds in a little to my work-in-progress theory about how the post 2005 stories are loosely following the classic series pattern but with time condensed. Christopher Eccleston is the equivalent of the black and white era: still somewhat embryonic, trying things out, several Dalek stories, massively popular at the beginning, with the popularity tailing off a bit at the end. Tennant is the big mass audience popularity phase, the equivalent of Jon Pertwee and Tom Baker: big audiences, propelling the series into the top ten programmes of the week. Matt Smith is Peter Davison, a younger Doctor, with stories getting a bit more involved and giving lots of fan service; domestic ratings decreasing a bit, but the show becoming increasingly popular as a cult offering for international audiences. Capaldi is Colin Baker: both had been fans, and wanted to play the Doctor, but thought they'd lost the chance when they played another guest character before being cast later in the main role, both played the Doctor grumpy at first, and the ratings reduced again slightly, possibly because the show was becoming too obsessed with its own continuity.
So, that would mean Jodie Whittaker is Sylvester McCoy?! It works to a certain extent: new Doctor, new title sequence and music; a big effort behind the scenes to use new writers, and increase diversity in content / be politically 'right on' (delete according to prejudice). Comparing and contrasting the results that made it to screen from those two eras, though, one can only be grateful of the latitude and budget allowed to incoming 21st century showrunners to put their stamp on the series. One of the biggest 'What Ifs' in Doctor Who's history is what would have happened after that 1980s crisis period if the production team or the BBC management had found the will to do something properly different with the show. We'll never know. But fans can at least console themselves with the programme as it is on our screens right now.
Did Michael Grade have a point? In 1989, when the original run of Doctor Who as an ongoing series ended, the powers that Beeb didn't really want to cancel it, they just wanted it to break for a rethink. In 1985, Controller of BBC1 Michael Grade did want to cancel Doctor Who; but, because of a public outcry, he ended up only making it have a break for a rethink. Oddly, this inadvertent action was probably the right one: the show did need changes to keep up with the times. The 50-minute episodes established in Colin's first full year were a good first step, but maybe Doctor Who should have been making episodes all on film like many other dramas of the time, maybe even making fewer 90-minute stand-alone film episodes (a format that the first ever Inspector Morse, filmed around the same time as Trial, was about to showcase). The action-oriented approach of previous years was good, but the tone and content of the stories needed looking at.
None of this happened when Doctor Who returned in 1986, and - apart from backward steps - nothing changed at all. Grade wasn't interested enough in rebooting the show to give detailed guidance (it wasn't his job anyway), and he certainly wasn't going to give the production any more money. The 1980s producer John Nathan-Turner and his script editor Eric Saward only really had the option of doing less of the same. Or did they? What Grade could control, he did, and somewhat to Doctor Who's benefit. On the Special Features section of the Trial DVD are compiled the contemporary trails and continuity from The Mysterious Planet's debut broadcast. Watching them, I was struck that the 1986 Saturday night line-up is nicely structured. Doctor Who comes after a lead-in from a programme for slightly younger kids and is then followed by shiny-floored quiz and entertainment shows. It's very similar to the schedules that had served it well in the 1970s and 2000s. The problem is that the quality of each of those 1986 Saturday night shows is, well, a bit mid-Eighties. Instead of Basil Brush, you've got Roland Rat; instead of Brucie, Paul Daniels. It might seem horribly unfair, but Doctor Who's slightly lacklustre content fits neatly in to such a line-up. Did Nathan-Turner and Saward do enough with what they had? They didn't even ditch Colin Baker's costume. After all, a year after Trial, incoming script editor Andrew Cartmel brought in a lot of changes to the approach without an increase in budget and without any opportunity to make fundamental structural changes. This feeds in a little to my work-in-progress theory about how the post 2005 stories are loosely following the classic series pattern but with time condensed. Christopher Eccleston is the equivalent of the black and white era: still somewhat embryonic, trying things out, several Dalek stories, massively popular at the beginning, with the popularity tailing off a bit at the end. Tennant is the big mass audience popularity phase, the equivalent of Jon Pertwee and Tom Baker: big audiences, propelling the series into the top ten programmes of the week. Matt Smith is Peter Davison, a younger Doctor, with stories getting a bit more involved and giving lots of fan service; domestic ratings decreasing a bit, but the show becoming increasingly popular as a cult offering for international audiences. Capaldi is Colin Baker: both had been fans, and wanted to play the Doctor, but thought they'd lost the chance when they played another guest character before being cast later in the main role, both played the Doctor grumpy at first, and the ratings reduced again slightly, possibly because the show was becoming too obsessed with its own continuity.
So, that would mean Jodie Whittaker is Sylvester McCoy?! It works to a certain extent: new Doctor, new title sequence and music; a big effort behind the scenes to use new writers, and increase diversity in content / be politically 'right on' (delete according to prejudice). Comparing and contrasting the results that made it to screen from those two eras, though, one can only be grateful of the latitude and budget allowed to incoming 21st century showrunners to put their stamp on the series. One of the biggest 'What Ifs' in Doctor Who's history is what would have happened after that 1980s crisis period if the production team or the BBC management had found the will to do something properly different with the show. We'll never know. But fans can at least console themselves with the programme as it is on our screens right now.In Summary:
Less of a trial if you ignore the trial bits.
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