Tuesday, 18 December 2018

Four to Doomsday

Chapter The 110th, wherein there is cultural appropriation on a grand scale.

Plot: 
The Doctor and his too many companions, Tegan, Adric and Nyssa, land on a spaceship four days' flight away from contemporary Earth. This vessel's commander is a green tyrant called Monarch with delusions of grandeur, who has been kidnapping humans (mostly international dance troupes) for thousands of years throughout Earth's history and turning them into androids because... erm... well, for some good reason, I'm sure. As well as his human hostages, he has three billion of his own kind too, stored on silicon chips, whom he wants to resettle on Earth. Except, he's more interested in mining Earth for its silicon and carbon, having exhausted his own planet Urbanka's resources. So, he'll get more silicon and carbon to convert more people into androids because... of the reason; a good reason, definitely. He has a religious fervour (useful in scripts as it can negate the need for proper explanations) about everyone abandoning what he calls the "flesh time".

His grand plan is to work out how to travel faster than light to go back in time to the big bang, where he believes he'll meet himself and turn out to be the universe's creator. He doesn't seem to need any more androids or the resettlement of the Urbankans to achieve this aim, but he's carrying on with that anyway despite it distracting somewhat (file under 'religious fervour'). He'd also likely achieve his aim quicker if he didn't stop every half hour to watch some dancing, but everyone on the ship is mad keen on dancing. It's also not clear what exactly he's going to do once he's met himself at the beginning of everything. Where does one go from there? Anyway, the Doctor can't let him plunder Earth for a plan that's so muddled and patently silly, so - with help from the android humans aboard - he defeats Monarch. He invokes a fail safe so the different android dancers form a 60-person dance crew, creating havoc in the ship, and uses Monarch's own deadly virus against him - it turns out he was the only one of the Urbankans and kidnapped humans to not have fully left the flesh time. What a hypocrite!

Context:
They got me. After an initial scepticism about the merits of Blu-Ray re-releases of original series Doctor Who, the first box set (Tom Baker's debut season) earlier this year at least partially persuaded me, and then the choice of Peter Davison's introductory year as the follow up - my first ever episodes watching upon broadcast as a fan - sealed the deal. I am going to have to collect them all (cue many deep sighs, and comments of "But you've already got them!" from the Better Half). I preordered this set what seems like an age ago, and after a couple of delays, it's finally arrived in the post.

There are seven stories on the set, two of which I've blogged already (Earthshock in the early days of the blog, and The Visitation at the beginning of this year). So, I needed only a standard six-sided die roll; the numbers 1-5 being the unwatched stories in transmission order, and if a 6 came up, I wouldn't blog any of the stories. I rolled a 2, so Four to Doomsday it was. A pity it wasn't one of the stories with film, which would scrub up nicely. Still, the episodes from the Blu-Ray still looked pretty good. Watched an episode a day over a few evenings, with members of the family occasionally dropping in and watching with me. During the - much maligned by many fans - spacewalk sequence, where the Doctor is adrift from the ship and trying to reach the floating TARDIS a little way off, when Davison's Doctor uses his cricket ball skills to propel him through space, middle child (boy of 9) exclaimed "Genius!". Take that, haters!

First-time round:
As I've mentioned many times before here, I became a fan during the build up to Peter Davison taking over as the Doctor, including a series of vintage Doctor Who repeats shown just before his first series aired in 1982. Just when I wanted to enjoy every single new episode as it went out, though, I was faced with an obstacle: cub scout sessions on a Monday evening coincided with every other episode. I feigned headaches so many times to allow me to catch another 25 minutes of 80s Who goodness that my mother probably worried I had a brain tumour by the end. I don't think I had started this subterfuge as early as Four to Doomsday, the second story of the season, but I was definitely addicted to Who already, and ready to do anything to get my fix. I missed episodes 1 and 3, but at least I got to enjoy the creepy "this is me" episode 2 cliffhanger, where Bigon reveals his consciousness is on a silicon chip. By the time of Kinda, the story after this, I'd found enough excuses to watch a whole serial. TV had won over my soul at that point, and outward-bound activities were destined not to figure large in my lifetime. Never mind.

Four to Doomsday was never repeated on BBC1, and I never caught it on any cable or satellite channel, so the first time I saw the two episodes I had missed in 1982 would have been almost twenty years later, when the VHS release finally came out in the tail end of the range's life in September 2001. I was living in Brighton at that point, and would have no doubt watched it in my flat on the evening after first buying it (probably that would have been from MVC, or some other establishment that doesn't exist anymore), and likely it would have been accompanied by a glass of red. I have no memories of any strong reaction to finally seeing those gaps plugged; whether this was to do with the wine or the quality of the story, I shall leave up to you to ponder.

Reaction
This story is in the middle of another of many transitional times for Doctor Who. After the previous run which moved from larger-than-life fun through to reasonably hard science fiction, this year moved from that hard science fiction to a more pacey action adventure approach, while also reintroducing stories set in Earth history. It may have been the impact of moving between three different script editors in quick succession: Christopher H. Bidmead, who commissioned some of the scripts of this year, handed over first to Anthony Root, who was only in place for a temporary period, then Eric Saward took over. The result is an interestingly diverse set of stories, without things becoming formulaic (yet). Kicking off the season are three stories in a row that all explore ideas through a science fiction structure, but in a softer, more lyrical manner than the stories of the previous year. The third of these, Kinda, though it was less popular at the time, has since become accepted as one of the stronger stories of the period; the first, Castrovalva, is very well liked too, and as the introductory story for a Doctor will always have a place in Who history. Coming between them, Four to Doomsday often gets overlooked.

Before I watched it this time, my total retained knowledge of the story would have been something like: "Davison's first filmed story, so he hasn't quite found his feet yet, bit dull - beware: dancing", and if you'd pushed me further, I'd have struggled to come up with more than "Terence Dudley wrote it, and his reputation isn't that great". That's not entirely fair; Dudley always manages to produce something distinctive; it's just that his plots usually don't stand up to scrutiny. He penned four stories in total for Who and its spin-offs, and one could write volumes about the ludicrous elements in some of them (Black Orchid and K9 and Company - I'm looking at you both in particular). By comparison, Four to Doomsday is sensible, but it is twice as long as all three other stories, and Dudley struggles to come up with enough incident to fill the narrative time. Nothing really happens until near the end. It nearly gets away with it by building up intrigue (and stopping for the occasional national dance display, as if the story has morphed into Blue Peter for a few minutes), but doesn't quite pull it off.

The production values are high: sets and models are great, chunky and industrial, the performances of the guest characters are all good, with particular kudos to Philip Locke as Bigon and Stratford Johns as Monarch. The key issues are with the script. He could be a very interesting baddie, Monarch: a lot of thought's been given to his philosophy, politics and how he charms people into submission (it's all a bit crazed, firing off in all directions, but it's there). But all that just feeds the backstory without driving forward any action. After two whole episodes of lots of tell but very little show, it is very unclear what's at stake. After a further episode of drip-fed exposition, things lurch into life as Monarch tries to cut the Doctor's head off. Then, he doesn't cut the Doctor's head off, and there's a bit of dancing and a space walk and then it ends abruptly. It's a shame, as there's some lovely dialogue in there, with Davison's first take on the Doctor grumpy and a bit sarcastic. It feels a little bigoted of the Doctor to keep referring to the aliens as 'frogs', though; that oversteps the mark a bit.

In this story, more than many others of a similar vintage, the three companions are used quite well: each has a very different reaction to the situation, and their actions work to complicate at least subplots if not the main plot. Tegan's very extreme behaviour irritates: not trusting the Doctor, and trying to nick off in the TARDIS to warn the people of Earth; but, I suppose, she's not really seen much heroism from him as yet: in his last two stories, he's died falling from a great height, then lolled around recovering for four episodes. She has no reason to trust him, I guess; but, she should have been given one by now. Three stories in, and six or seven episodes from his regeneration into a new man, someone should have thought to put in a scene where he proves himself to her, and she accepts him. Mind you, here he puts himself at risk to save her from the hash she's made of things, and in the next couple of stories after she is still moaning all the time, so maybe that's just Tegan.

Connectivity: 
Both The Ark and Four to Doomsday are primarily set on spaceships, and both spaceships contain humans and a non-human race stored in an artificial 'offline' state. In both stories, there is conflict between humans and the the non-humans on the ship, and humans are made into slaves.

Deeper Thoughts:
Freighter's Log: BFI screening of Earthshock and other Season 19 Blu-Ray Material, 17th November 2018. As the release of the box set was slightly delayed, this launch event at the BFI Southbank seems quite a long time ago now. This time, it was just myself and long term fan friend David, mentioned many times before on this blog, attending. I'm not sure this one was as well-publicised as previous Who events at the BFI; I saw a few on twitter commenting that they had no idea it was happening and were disappointed to find out too late. It still managed to sell out, mind. The presentation started with the 'Jovanka Airlines' trailer for the set, which you can find online if you haven't caught it; this nicely set the scene for a few hours of fun. We had great seats near the front, not far from main guests, Eric Saward, the writer of Earthshock and script editor for part of Season 19, and Matthew Waterhouse, who played Adric. Our hosts - as ever, the double-act of the BFI's Justin Johnson and Missing Believed Wiped's Dick Fiddy - mentioned on bringing them out that this is the first time the two had met since the one had 'killed off' the other. When they shook hands in the green room, it was reportedly just like a Reagan and Gorbachev summit.

After that, Justin got the Dick in early, starting the usual quiz. For the uninitiated, Justin always has some DVD and Blu-ray goodies to give away to whoever can answer an obscure Doctor Who question first, and he always makes merry with the double entendres about Dick's name, including getting the lucky hopefuls in the crowd to shout for "Dick" at the top of their voice, so he can walk the roaming microphone over to them. I was hoping (in vain, as it turned out) that a copy of Twice Upon a Time would be among the giveaways - it doesn't seem likely it will be on the box set of Jodie Whittaker's first year, and I can't bring myself to buy something I hated just for completeness (though I'll likely crack and do just that sometime soon). Plus, I never usually get to play: even if I know the answer, I've normally bought the prize already. There was only one question that stumped me this time, which was "Who played the three Dalek operators in the Five-Ish Doctors reboot?". I knew it was Frank Skinner and Nick Briggs, but couldn't remember the third person (it was David Troughton, fact fans). The person who won that particular item was - almost inevitably - Frank Skinner himself, who was in the audience. He struggled for a moment to name the third person too, but only because he "didn't want to say the wrong Troughton"!

(L to R) Fiddy, Vanezis, Ayres
Next up was the first two episodes of the restored Earthshock on the big screen. They looked very fine, particularly the film sequences at the start, and the surround mix was impressive too. Watching with an audience is always illuminating: there were quite a few (intended) laughs rippling through the auditorium. It hasn't occurred to me before that Earthshock has any witty dialogue, but it turns out it has, and it landed very well with the audience. Following these two episodes, there was a mini-panel discussion with Mark Ayres, maestro of sound, and Paul Vanezis, producer of various Value Added Material on the discs. It was interesting to hear the challenges they'd faced, but they were tight-lipped when it came to questions about what they're working on for subsequent release. This section was also significant for me, as I got to contribute! Mister Ayres had a momentary lapse on stage, failing to remember the only classic story from The Leisure Hive onwards which has no isolated score in existence. A very handsome, thin and clever-looking gentlemen came to his rescue, shouting "Mindwarp" from a few rows back from the front. Reader, it was I, and I've never been so proud.

(L to R) Johnson, Cyberman, Barton Hill
There followed the final two episodes; these caused some unintended hilarity. The couple of scenes of Cybermen guard extras gossipping with very non-emotionless hand gestures caused a few titters in the audience. The emotion of the ending hit harder as well, though, being watched in a group. Following this, a surprise guest star was brought on stage - the Cyberman that doomed Adric by shooting the console he's using at the end. The costume display was presented to the crowd by Mark Barton Hill, who acquired it at Bonhams in 2010. He talked briefly about the painstaking and geeky analysis that went into confirming that this was indeed the right costume. It was great value this event, the treats kept coming: more quiz bits, and further clips from the box set - a taster of Matthew Sweet's interview with Peter Davison, and some very funny clips of Beryl Reid in the studio being a diva.

Finally, it was time for Saward and Waterhouse. Despite not having met for more than 30 years, they made a pretty good double-act themselves, with amusingly contrasting personalities: Matthew was theatrical and very loud, projecting every answer to the other side of the Thames and back; Eric was curmudgeonly but with an acid wit. There were some great moments where the same question was asked of both of them: "Did you take any souvenirs of your time home with you?", for example, to which Matthew went on for five minutes, waving his arms around; then, Eric was asked and just drily said "no", making the audience explode with appreciative laughter. Twice, Eric had to tell Matthew off for starting into an answer so loudly he was making Eric jump out of his skin - "Matthew, you're terrifying me!".

(L to R) Saward, Waterhouse, Johnson

There wasn't too much that was new from either man, but it was still a very interesting Q&A. Saward was the one that wanted to bring back the Cybermen, and he took the idea to producer John Nathan-Turner. Early on in their time together on the show, Matthew Waterhouse told Peter Davison "You'll never be remotely as good as Tom Baker" (this, though, was probably just part of the workplace joshing which he explained was a lot more affectionate than people think). Beryl Reid's casting was "a surprise" when Eric first found it out, but the performance is growing on him (he put this down to his getting old). Matthew has very much enjoyed recreating the role of Adric for Big Finish, but will never wear the costume again! I was very intrigued by both men's answer to a question about whether the TARDIS was overcrowded with three companions. Matthew doesn't agree, and said that although none of the companion characters was exactly Hamlet, they did bring colour and a variety of interactions. Eric does agree, and thinks having to give them all stuff to do "got in the way of the story" which backs up a theory I have that he's a writer that thinks that stories happen despite not because of the characters. He's forgiven, though, for coming up with the best quote of the session, about the graft that had to be put in by all to shoot such a fast moving script, with so many scenes: "When Saward works, nobody sleeps".

In Summary:
A very intriguing premise stretched a bit too thin to fill four episodes; nice dancing though.

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