Time-Flight

Chapter The 221st, which is feeling supersonic, and you may well need a gin and tonic (or several) - but I like it!

Plot:

After mourning Adric's death for all of two whole minutes, the Doctor, Tegan and Nyssa decide to cheer themselves up with a trip into history, but encounter some time turbulence, and have to make an emergency landing. By coincidence, they materialise in the exact place the Doctor's been trying to reach all year, Heathrow Airport in Tegan's time. A Concorde on its approach to the airport has dropped off Air Traffic Control's monitoring, seemingly vanished into thin air. The Doctor's UNIT credentials mean he's brought in to help investigate. The turbulence the TARDIS encountered is evidence that the Concorde travelled through time. The Doctor is provided with another Concorde and crew to recreate the exact circumstances of the previous flight; with the TARDIS and its crew onboard, the second Concorde follows the same flight path, goes through a time contour and arrives in prehistoric times.

At first it appears that they have landed back at Heathrow, but this is a collective delusion being created by the Master, who for some reason adopts a ridiculous disguise at first. He is based in the temple of the Xeraphin who crashed landed on Earth years before, and have merged into one gestalt entity. He aims to use their race bank as a power source for his knackered TARDIS, and is using the hypnotised passengers and crew of the first Concorde flight to break into the inner sanctum to reach it. Helped by the crew of the second Concorde, the TARDIS team battles against the Master for psychic control of the Xeraphin's power. The Master wins, but is missing a vital time component to allow him to escape. The Doctor trades him one of his spares in exchange for the release of the captured passengers and crew. The Master travels back to present day Heathrow, but the Doctor has set things up so the second Concorde arrives there first, and knocks the Master's TARDIS off to destination unknown. Tegan is having a look round the airport when the Doctor dematerialises to escape some approaching policemen (he must really want rid of her!).

Context:

Every one of the family was off work and school on the Friday in February that Storm Eustice blew through where we live in the South East of the UK. The red weather warning issued advised us not to leave the house. Stuck inside watching the slightly underwhelming forces of nature outside (the advance hype had made the kids expect trees and trampolines to be flying through the air), was not a particularly exciting end to the half term holiday; it did, though, give an opportunity to watch a Doctor Who story. I bribed the three children (two boys of 15 and 12 years old, girl of 9) with sweets to sit down and watch this one with me, from the disc in the season 19 Blu-ray box set. The eldest lasted until the end of the first episode, the middle child managed one more; the youngest watched with me to the end. She spent the entire first half of the story moaning about the acting and make-up of Leon Ny Taiy's Kalid. I watched her face during the episode 2 cliffhanger - which reveals that it is just make-up and a performance, as Leon Ny Taiy is really Tony Ainley, i.e. the Master in disguise - and a big beaming smile spread across it. 

First Time Round:

Peter Davison's opening series in 1982 was the first one I watched go out live on BBC1 in the UK, after becoming a fan watching a season of repeats on BBC2 the previous winter. As whinged about in blog posts passim however, the Monday night broadcasts that year (the odd numbered episodes of each story) clashed with my regular attendance at 2nd Durrington cub scouts. I can mostly remember exactly which episodes I missed, and which ones I pulled a sickie from cubs so I could see. I can remember hoping that the second showing in the first week of the season would be a repeat of Castrovalva episode 1, and being disappointed; I remember having to have "headaches" on two Monday nights'  running to watch the whole of Kinda; I remember having to follow the plot when only viewing the second 50% of Black Orchid (it's actually pretty easy to do), and I remember the big revelation that the Cybermen were back in Earthshock being relayed to me by another child in the playground at school the following day. I am not so certain, though, about Time-Flight. Perhaps by the end of the season the novelty had worn off, so these things didn't stick in my mind. I feel sure I must have missed at least one episode on a cubs night, probably the third. I'm sure I saw the discussion in the first episode between the Doctor, Tegan and Nyssa about not being able to change history by going back in time to save Adric; I say this, because I was surprised not to see that discussion at the end of Earthshock when I watched it again years later, having misremembered it as happening in that preceding story.

I never saw a repeat or home-taped video copy of Time-Flight, so the first time I'd have seen all the episodes would have been many years later in July 2000 when they came out on VHS. I caught up with the full story not long after that first broadcast, though, in prose form. Time-Flight was the first Target paperback novelisation I ever owned. I'd read a few from the library before Time-Flight, but this was the start of my collection. I remember my Mum ordering it from a book club that was run through my primary school of the time. Did everyone of my vintage have these? The Better Half didn't have such a thing, but she's a bit younger than me. Every term or two, a pamphlet was distributed to every child with a few pages of thumbnails and descriptions of books to buy, and you could fill in and tear out a form requesting a book or books, then bring it back in and hand it over to the teacher with your pennies. After an interminable wait, which probably wasn't that long but seemed it when one had only existed for a decade, the book would be delivered to the school, and you'd be able to take it home at the end of the day. I can picture myself stumbling along the twitten outside Durrington Middle School while trying simultaneously to read the first few pages of Time-Flight, too eager to wait until I'd reached home. I can also remember later having to ask my Dad for an explanation of what "déjà vu" meant (Grimwade uses the term describing Tegan's recollection of changing her Aunt Vanessa's tyre - in her introductory story Logopolis - when she is helping do the same for Concorde).

Reaction:

The climax of any dramatic form doesn't have to be at the very end. In fact, the very best writing has multiple climaxes (yes, this is going to get a bit double entendre-esque before I'm done, sorry). A great script can achieve a climactic story reversal towards the start of the final act that will seem like the denouement, but instead it propels the narrative in a different direction that then builds to its own climax, even bigger than the last one - like a mountain climb, with peaks and drops before the final summit. Once that summit, that final climax (oo-er), is reached, it is common for there to be a bit of narrative afterwards to let things register and then subside in the audience's emotions, the best for it to have impact. It could also involve a little tying up of subplot loose ends, or just a light comic counterpoint moment (cf. Scooby Doo). It can't be too protracted, though, or else the audience's patience risks being tested. In Earthshock, for example, the climax is obviously Adric's death when the space freighter he's on hits the Earth. It's followed, though, by a short scene in the TARDIS control room as the Doctor, Tegan and Nyssa react, stunned. The story wouldn't be as effective if it ended on the explosion, without that final scene. If anything, it's still too abrupt, but the clever trick of running the end credits in silence extends the moment of reflection before the real world of "next on BBC1" intrudes. Crucially, though, Earthshock's plot tidy-ups are held off until the beginning of the next story (the one this blog post is concerned with, Time Flight); to have limped on after Adric's death with scenes explaining what happened to the Cyber fleet and the other humans would not been neither effective nor appropriate

There's then the question of how durations of post-climax material should scale up when individual pieces form a series that needs to have its own dramatic arc. Adric's death is the climax of Earthshock, but it's also the climax of the 1982 season. As such, one could argue that Time-Flight shouldn't exist at all, tacked on to the end of the year like an afterthought. End the season with the big emotional cliffhanger instead, the argument goes, and you have a break before the next season starts for people to dwell on it; if you have to do your Concorde story, save it for next year, or pull it forward and do it before you kill off one of your main characters. So, why didn't they? Doctor Who is a series famed for its cliffhangers, after all. It is also, however, famed for resolving its cliffhangers a week later (or even sooner with the twice weekly broadcast pattern in 1982), it is a programme of peril, but also of reassurance. A similar situation arose in 1984, when climactic story The Caves of Androzani saw the Doctor regenerate, but then the next guy's first story The Twin Dilemma was tacked on to the end of that season, airing the following week. This, I think was a mistake. The regeneration is not a death but a rebirth, the reassurance is baked in; but, to leave an audience reeling from Adric's death for almost a year would not be fair. So, to my mind, Time Flight has to exist exactly where it is, and has to be a pretty fun adventure, not too doomy and gloomy - to let the viewers know that the story, and life, goes on.

This means there is one big flaw that's somewhat unavoidable in Time-Flight, the crunch of a gear change as our heroes have to go from grieving over Adric's death to planning a day trip to see the opening of the Great Exhibition. Humorously, there's a line for the Doctor in there that's very nearly 'It's what he would have wanted'! It's somewhat fixable too; as soon as the Doctor sets the coordinates, the TARDIS is hit by the plot device (sorry, time contour) anyway, so why not have this happen sooner, throwing the Doctor and friends into a new adventure and distracting them from their grief. It wouldn't be perfect, but it would be better. That's it for the unavoidable flaws. The others - and Time-Flight has many, don't get me wrong - were probably avoidable, but that's not to say on balance that the story isn't overall quite good. The biggest avoidable flaw, so much so that my nine year old can see it, is Kalid. I'd think that this was a racially insensitive bit of costuming / make-up / performance if it was clear what they were trying to emulate, or if they were even trying to emulate anything. It's possible that Kalid is supposed to be an alien, for whom elements of Earth cultures were used as an inspiration. Maybe two wrongs make a right here, as the execution is so poor that it's not specific enough to be truly offensive.  All this is doubly annoying as there's no narrative need for the Master to adopt a disguise at all. If he's to be held back until the episode 2 cliffhanger, then just keep him out of shot until then. Other flaws often cited are the production design, including the prehistoric Earth sets and the globby Plasmatons, and the convoluted script, but I think both are not that bad, really, and comparable with similar efforts in other stories made around this time.

Balanced against this are the elements that work, and a lot of them work superbly. The involvement of British Airways means there is a lot of sumptuous footage of and access to Concorde, which at the time was a great coup and gives the serial a unique hook. The beginning sequence where Air Traffic Control (I can forgive them for this just being two blokes in a darkened room) lose the signal, and we see the plane fade away, is a gripping opening. There's a fringe benefit too in this external input; presumably, the BA crew depicted had to be shown in a positive light, so they couldn't be too thick or cowardly. What this leads to is three characters - played by Richard Easton, Keith Drinkel and Michael Cashman, all of whom are clearly enjoying themselves - that are open-minded about the fantastical situation in which they find themselves, and get stuck in with pluck and resourcefulness in an old school adventure story manner. Doctor Who guest character lists for the next few years after Time-Flight would increasingly be peopled by hard bitten mercenaries, and this trio - and the other couple of guest characters - are much more fun. The group hypnotic delusions are also a good (and inexpensive) threat - the scene when Cashman's character gradually comes under the influence by being pulled into the mundane litany of pre-flight checks is quite chilling. The TARDIS being on its side, but able to rectify its gravity and alignment at the touch of a button was fun for my kids watching, and I remember liking it when I was a youngster first experiencing this story too. It's also fitting to end the season with a rematch with Anthony Ainley's Master; when he's not pretending to be whatever the heck Kalid is supposed to be, Ainley gives another solid performance.

 

There are some more minor criticisms. This is the epitome of ungrateful companion syndrome, for example: the Doctor's finally got Tegan to where she wanted to be, but she moans even more. There's no way that Concorde could land or take off on the terrain as depicted. It's a shame no Concorde take-off footage could be found without a bird flapping into view - this must have been some lone pterosaur swooping over the barren landscape. The flight attendant from the first Concorde, Angela Clifford, is heavily featured until the final episode when she disappears without explanation (she isn't shown getting on the second Concorde to escape, so is presumably left back in prehistory). Of course, this is done so that Tegan can step up and finally be the stewardess she wanted to be in her introductory story. This then leads to the nice mini-cliffhanger for the season of the Doctor accidentally (or maybe not accidentally, given all the moaning) abandoning her in Heathrow to take up her old life at the end. It's a confident end to the season; at the end of his first two years in charge, producer John-Nathan Turner has transformed the show and delivered a great first run with his new leading man; Time-Flight, for all its flaws, was an integral part of that.

Connectivity: 

Both Time Flight and The Battle of Ranskoor Av Kolos are the last stories of debut seasons for new Doctors; in both, the TARDIS crew goes on a rescue mission, landing somewhere where creatures with great mental powers are being harnessed for an evil purpose by a villainous character, and these powers cause hallucinations for anyone around that can't protect themselves (though luckily our heroes can resist). In both instances, the villain is returning to the show after having appeared in the first story of the season.

Deeper Thoughts:

1982 and all that. I promise this isn't just going to be an exercise in Gen X nostalgia, but I thoroughly recommend anyone who enjoys watching Doctor Who of around the Time-Flight era to have a look at this post on the Curious British Telly site. It lists many children's TV shows of the 1980s that don't get as much championing by the cultists and enthusiasts (like my good self) online. I think it is interesting and useful to see Doctor Who in the context in which it was first shown; this is why my favourite extras on the Blu-ray box sets are the compilations of trailers and continuity announcements for stories; it's also why I derive pleasure from reading listings on Genome, and indeed blog posts about forgotten children's TV shows of the 1980s. It's not to show how superior Doctor Who's production values were compared to contemporary offerings like, say, Captain Zep - Space Detective (number 47 in the list), although it does display this admirably. I loved Captain Zep, by the way; I'm not criticising it, but it's worth noting that Doctor Who never looked cheap or amateur compared to other UK attempts at science fiction programmes, and this was maintained throughout the classic series. This isn't the usual narrative, which has it that Doctor Who was looking markedly tired and shabby by the end. If it had continued into the 1990s, it would have faced challenges and would have needed to change, but that's not the same thing. If you look at the later entries on the Curious British Telly post (they're in order of transmission through the decade), you won't find anything in the way of science fiction or fantasy there: it was too difficult to do by then, even for the perhaps lower expectations of a CBBC audience. The latest entry is Aliens in the Family (number 131 on the list) in 1987.

Aside from the context of UK broadcasting, though, there's personal context. Reading about (and being instantly reminded of) a programme like Puzzle Trail (number 2 on the list) - a Clive Doig produced serial quiz show where clues were given to the location of treasure etc. - brought back memories of, I think, autumn 1983. My parents had recently divorced; as a child looked after by a single parent, I was on free school meals. There was, though, a teacher's strike or working to rule at the time, which entailed a withdrawal of their support during break times. As such, I had to walk from Durrington Middle School to my grandparents' house every day to have lunch there. Before I went, I had to pick up my meal from the canteen, which was a packed lunch in a brown paper bag with my name pencilled on it. I remember that this was the most exciting thing that had happened for a good long while. I would have time to eat it and then rush back to school, but in the afternoon, when I went back to my grandparents' (Mum was out looking for / doing badly paid work at that time), I watched Puzzle Trail before I had my tea. This definitely happened, but I can't find anything online about any teachers' action in the 1980s earlier than 1985, by which time I was at secondary school. There's much more documentary evidence of kids' TV programmes on the web than there are detailed histories of industrial relations in the education sector (this somehow isn't that surprising to me).

Peter Davison's appearance on Captain Zep - Space Detective

Reading through this list, and doing the odd brief bit of googling elsewhere, tells me that I wasn't dreaming, and Peter Davison really did cameo in an episode of Captain Zep - Space Detective, in character and full costume as the Doctor. It tells me that the Channel 4 programme I liked presented by Michael Rosen was called Everybody Here (number 34 on the list), the ITV programme with Beryl Reid, Stephen Boxer and a green space-cat puppet was Get Up and Go! (number 39); plus, it lets me know that Eureka (number 20) ended in 1986 when one of its stars Sylvester McCoy got a better gig elsewhere. My detailed knowledge of Doctor Who and other telly, and the detailed knowledge of other people who've documented it and made it available, helps me to date certain events in my life. It almost doesn't matter that I was too lazy to ever keep a diary, as I can tell you that - as a random example - I was sat with a plate of boil-in-the-bag prawn curry and rice on my lap in the living room watching Doctor Who (The Two Doctors) on Saturday 16th February 1985, and a little later on watched The Laughter Show with Les Dennis and Dustin Gee. I wonder what it will be like in future years for my children, though, who can currently dial up whatever they want to watch on demand at any time on any device. They will no doubt remember that they had that weird year when they were schooled at home because of a pandemic, but when was it? They could have been watching anything at around the time, and none of it date-stamped. The poor sods will have to start keeping a diary. Won't someone think of the children?!

Post script: I never thought that a particular personal and global context from back in the early 80s would be relevant again today, but in the last few days as I wrote this post I've seen a few 'this is what would happen if Russia dropped a nuke on London' speculations. I do often touch on politics on the blog, but I'm probably going to refrain from discussing anything to do with the war in Ukraine - this is not the place. It will feel churlish to just concentrate on a silly TV programme with such things happening on the same continent, but life has to go on or the bullies win. 

In Summary:

The show must go on, even if that show is Time-Flight (which is actually pretty fun for all its flaws).