Meglos

Chapter The 243rd, all together now: cactus, cactus man, I've got to be a cactus man...

Plot:

An arrogant but technically skilled cactus called Meglos engages (somehow, despite his being a cactus) a group of intergalactic bandits called Gaztaks to kidnap a random bloke from Earth and bring him to the barren planet of Zolfa-Thura where Meglos lives. Sometime before, his fellow Zolfa-Thurans all but destroyed the planet to thwart Meglos's plans for universal destruction, and ejected the power source of his doomsday weapon into space. This is the dodecahedron, which landed on nearby planet Tigella; since then, the Tigellans have worshipped the dodecahedron as a holy object, and used it to power their civilisation, though its idiosyncratic fluctuations cause them ongoing issues. The Tigellan people have formed two distinct and squabbling castes because of this, the scientific Savants and the religious Deons, with their aged and wise leader Zastor in the middle trying to keep the peace. The Doctor visited Tigella and met the younger Zastor years before, and when the Tigellan learns the Time Lord is back in the area, he invites him to come to the planet to advise. Meglos eavesdrops on this, merges with the earthling and transforms himself into an exact copy of the Doctor. He traps the TARDIS in a time loop to prevent the Doctor, Romana and K9 from reaching Tigella before he arrives there with the Gaztaks. He impersonates the Doctor and steals the dodecahedron. The TARDIS team work out how to throw the time loop out of phase, and arrive on Tigella too. Meanwhile, the earthling fights against Meglos's control, causing the Zolfa-Thuran's disguise to get a bit prickly occasionally. The real Doctor is captured and nearly sacrificed to the Deon's god, but luckily the Gaztaks and the green, spiky Doctor-Meglos are discovered. The villains escape to Zolfa-Thura after a zap gun battle, but the Doctor follows, impersonates Meglos and manages to get them to blow each other up. He offers to take the earthling back home a few minutes before he was abducted.

Context:

After musing in the Deeper Thoughts section of the last blog post on Deep Breath about my brain's over-saturation in Doctor Who, and how this might be robbing me of surprise when encountering old memories about my favourite show, I considered having a bit of time off from watching it. Perhaps this might help me recapture some more of the magic. Obviously, I wasn't 100% serious, but the resolve lasted much less time than I might have forecast. About forty minutes after finishing that blog post, on the 27th September 2022, I saw someone on twitter doing one of those "on this day in Doctor Who history" style tweets that told me it was exactly 42 years on from the first broadcast of Meglos episode one (on the 27th September 1980, obviously). As Meglos had already been selected by the random number generator assisted process I use to choose the order of stories to cover for the blog, it seemed unavoidable that I should start the story that very evening. I did so from the disc in the season 18 Blu-ray box set, and then proceeded to watch an episode every couple of nights. At one point during the first episode, the Better Half came in to the living room and watched for a while. She asked one very good question of me: "What kind of planet is this where everyone has to have the same haircut?". I couldn't answer this of course, but it made me wonder whether it is indeed a haircut or whether it's a wig. I mean, I know it's a wig on each of the actors, but are the Savants in the fictional world of Meglos wearing wigs, or is that supposed to be their real hair. Zastor seems to have normal hair, so it's not every Tigellan that has an artificially white sculptured do. Why would the scientific caste of the planet all adopt the same hairstyle or wig, though?!

First Time Round:

Meglos is one of a handful of stories I watched for the first time courtesy of UK Gold. After three years of university, where my burgeoning Doctor Who VHS collection often entertained (and sometimes infuriated) my friend group in many communal viewings, I went back home and lived in my Mum's place in Worthing for a while. This was the mid-1990s. I temped to earn some money to pay off my student loans (they were much smaller in those days). By the time Paul McGann was taking on the keys to the TARDIS, I had moved with the Better Half to a tiny studio flat, and had got a full-time job. When I'd finally paid off the loans, just over a year later (by which time I was on my own in the flat in term-time as the BH was off studying herself), I thought I'd treat myself by getting cable connected, and would get one of the relatively inexpensive channels packages. I was never interested in paying more for the sport or movie channels, I just wanted UK Gold to watch old Doctor Whos that hadn't come out on video yet. For more than a decade, UK Gold had the surviving archive, or parts of it, in constant rotation. By the time I was connected, stories were being shown as omnibus editions on Sunday mornings, with intermediate credits sequences removed, but advert breaks between episodes (and a slightly more intrusive advert break in the middle of the final episode). The only issue was that at that point the only stories being shown that I hadn't already seen were not exactly the cream of the crop. For a few months, I was able to watch and record onto my own tapes The Invasion of Time, The Creature from the Pit, Nightmare of Eden, The Horns of Nimon, and Meglos. There don't seem to be any historical listings for UK Gold online so this isn't definitely exact, but I think I would have watched Meglos on Sunday 19th October 1997. I must have discontinued my cable subscription very quickly afterwards, though, as I didn't watch State of Decay (two stories after Meglos) on the channel but instead saw it for the first time when it came out on VHS (which wasn't long after in November 1997). My cutting the cable wasn't 100% down to the poor run of Doctor Who stories that were on offer, but it didn't help.

Reaction:

There's a famous old joke (it's told, for example, at the beginning of the film Annie Hall) where two old ladies are in a restaurant and one says to the other "The food in here is terrible", and the other replies "Yes, and such small portions". Alvy, the main character of Annie Hall, sees this as a metaphor for life. I see it as a metaphor for Meglos. For Meglos contains much that is rubbish, and I will go into more detail on that very soon have no fear, but it is also very short. The episodes barely scrape above the 20 minute mark each (classic Doctor Who episodes are usually four to five minutes longer), and many contain very long episode recaps (the final episode, by my timing, contained about three minutes of recycled material upfront). This, I believe, is indicative of script difficulties, which might be understandable to a certain extent. The writers John Flanagan and Andrew McCulloch were doing their first ever TV screenplay, and script editor Christopher H. Bidmead was early on in his tenure, still making his mark. Though the production team taking over this year were keen to break with what had gone before, both in terms of the look of the show and the seriousness of the subject matter, this was still a transition period. The first couple of scripts brought to screen by incoming producer John Nathan-Turner and Bidmead, when you dig deeper than the superficial, bear a lot of similarities with those of the previous regime of producer Graham Williams and script editor Douglas Adams. It was apt that I started watching this story on its 42nd anniversary, because it is clearly inspired by Adams's work. This isn't surprising, as the recent episodes of Doctor Who screening when Flanagan and McCulloch were writing were ones written or rewritten by Adams. Plus, in 1979 and 1980, UK science fiction was generally in thrall to everything Adams anyway, as The Hitch Hiker's Guide to the Galaxy had by then become a big hit in both its radio and book forms.

An ordinary earth person thrust into time and space against his will trying to understand the weird things going on around him (like Arthur Dent), a cactus villain (similar to a sentient bowl of petunias), comical pulp sci-fi archetype characters like the Gaztaks, cosmic misunderstandings as a satirical commentary on religious zealotry, conceptual jokes like the time loop the characters find themselves in (quite like the time-slips the same characters experience in City of Death the year before Meglos), Tom Baker larking about: these are all found in Adams's work, either for Doctor Who or elsewhere. The script could easily have been made in the 1979/1980 house style. Unfortunately, that style was one that the people making Doctor Who a year later wanted to distance themselves from, so instead of leaning in to the ridiculousness as might have worked better, the script and production fights against it. Additionally, nobody involved has the flair for dialogue that Douglas Adams had, which would keep a lesser story afloat. Instead, particularly in the first episode, everything is leaden and expository. The Savants, Deons and Zastor are all one-note ciphers; nothing they do surprises us or the other characters, and they often tell each other things that they already know. The script is also so clearly on the side of science rather than religion that there's no dynamism in the scenes between the two castes. In fact, if you remove the Deons altogether, you wouldn't lose very much. It's too simplistic a depiction for the satire to be effective, and the narrative would barely change. Meglos could still hoodwink a wholly scientific society, and the same society could then mistrust, and potentially even threaten with a death penalty, the real Doctor turning up after the disastrous actions of his double. Lead Deon Lexa sacrifices herself to save Romana near the end, but it's abruptly written and badly shot such that you can almost miss it, so that would be no great loss either.

Playing Lexa is Jacqueline Hill, one of Doctor Who's original cast members when the show started in 1963 (playing schoolteacher Barbara). She does sterling work, but isn't well served in the script and it's odd to any long-term fan watching to see her playing someone different. Nathan-Turner (I think rightly) decided after this that previous regular or recurring Who character actors would never again come back in new roles, but would only return to play their original characters. None of the other actors really stands out, though they are all working hard with what they are given. Bill Fraser and Frederick Treves are having fun playing the two main Gaztaks (Fraser reportedly insisted on kicking the K9 prop to show how evil his character was), and Tom Baker is enjoying getting to play the villain, and then in the final episode having some larks in the confrontation scenes playing against himself. The script for the story before Meglos, The Leisure Hive, was also not that different from the silly stories the production team didn't like from the year before (it was after all written by the most prolific author of the Graham Williams producer period, David Fisher) but innovative direction decisions disguised that, and made the story seem more sophisticated than it was on paper. Meglos director Terence Dudley does solid work, but the result is something that's sometimes risible, but mostly just generic: the good guys are good and they beat the bad guys who are bad, and everything is put to rights. Somehow, one expects a bit more than that of a story where the titular character is a cactus, even if it's just high camp or parody.

There are flashes of visual distinction here and there; the effects wizardry allowing the interaction of various characters with the models representing parts of Zolfa-Thura was ground-breaking for the time, and still holds up today. Also, the whole folly is worthwhile for that one great, indelible image of Tom Baker's Doctor but bright green and covered in spikes: this was so memorable that Baker became the first (and only?) person to be represented at Madame Tussauds waxworks in London by two facsimiles in one tableau. (Around the time of the first BBC1 broadcast of Meglos, there was a Doctor Who themed exhibit at this famous tourist attraction that included life-size models of both the Doctor and the green, spiky Meglos Doctor.) As well as this, the music is good, and there's the odd good line, e.g. the Doctor being described thus: "He sees the threads that join the universe together, and mends them when they break". Ultimately, though, it's odd to me that a story with a talking cactus playing the Doctor can end up so underwhelming and run of the mill.

Connectivity: 

In both Meglos and Deep Breath, the main villain uses the body of at least one human to transform themselves (Meglos doesn't kill and dissect the poor sap he's using, though). In both stories, there is a trade between two characters to obtain a coat (a running gag in Meglos has Gaztak second in command Brotadac repeatedly admiring and finally obtaining Meglos's copy of the Doctor's coat, while Capaldi's Doctor swaps his watch for a Victorian homeless man's overcoat).

Deeper Thoughts:

On anniversaries and endings. Just after I finished viewing Meglos, the Better Half and I got round to watching the final ever episode of Neighbours, which I'd recorded when it was shown on Channel 5 in the UK toward the end of July this year, and we'd been meaning to find time for ever since. For the uninitiated, Neighbours was an Australian daytime soap opera that started to be shown on UK television in the mid-1980s. It was relatively cheaply made, and often cheesy, but had engaging characters who were played with enthusiasm by the cast. It soon captured the imagination of a UK audience, particularly children and young adults. This was probably because it had a number of good looking (or at least better looking than anyone in the main homegrown soaps such as Eastenders and Coronation Street) teenage characters, most famously (though neither were in it from the beginning) Kylie Minogue and Jason Donovan as Charlene and Scott. Such was the youth engagement with the series, it rapidly got a late afternoon repeat in the 1980s BBC1 schedule. Before that, it was only shown at lunchtimes and kids were bunking off school to catch it. The daily repeat was added at 5.30pm after the children's programme zone. I happened to see the very first episode as I was at home from school unwell. I was a bit feverish, though, tucked up in bed watching the portable TV in the corner of my room. I only vaguely remember early character Des meeting Daphne who was the stripper hired for his stag party (he'd subsequently call off the wedding, eventually get married to Daphne, and would later still hold her hand on her death bed as she passed away after a car crash - it's a soap, after all, whaddaya gonna do?!)

The actor who played Des returned for the final episode. I don't think that the actor who played Daphne did, though, but I might not have recognised her (her character's death within the history of the show would not have been a blocker - several dear but departed characters appeared in a brief cameo as ghosts, I kid you not). As will be obvious from that supernatural narrative decision, every conceivable (and some barely conceivable) efforts were made to get as much of the full history of the programme as possible represented in this finale. Long running character Toadie was having the latest one of his many wedding ceremonies, which acted as a spur for many characters that had left the area to return. Those that did manage to come back were sometimes quite surprising, Donovan and Minogue had a couple of scenes in the main Ramsey Street location just waving and saying hello, but Guy Pearce, who since Neighbours launched his career has become a Hollywood star, appeared throughout in lengthy sequences with an actual plot arc, as he got back together with old flame Jane. Pearce hadn't been around on the same day as Donovan and Minogue, so the moment where the three of them ran in to each other and hugged was a masterful bit of editing. There was also a clunky but fun scene of the characters played by Natalie Imbruglia and Holly Valance, another two of the Neighbours cast that have gone on to stellar recording careers; their characters didn't meet on the show, so were seen coincidentally bumping into each other way away from Ramsey Street and reminiscing. The remainder of the cameos were shoehorned in as a long Zoom call style section where numerous characters recorded their well-wishes to the happy couple. This meant that Margot Robbie, who was briefly on the show a few years back before mega-stardom, was able to appear also. Watching it, I got an increasing sense of deja vu. Doesn't this remind you of something, Doctor Who fans? It's like the Neighbours version of The Five Doctors.

In Doctor Who, we're two weeks away at the time of writing from an ending: Jodie Whittaker's final feature-length story is now being trailed, and we already know it's going to feature some returns of characters from multiple eras of the show (I won't specify which in case anyone reading this is still miraculously unspoilt). In big stories for anniversaries or regenerations in the past we've seen cameos accommodating actors that couldn't spare much time out of their schedules; plus, what was the series of clips, voiceovers and impersonations as all the Doctors come together to save Gallifrey in The Day of the Doctor except a sci-fi version of the Zoom call approach of Neighbours. Maybe more surprise guests are planned for Whittaker's last hurrah. After that jamboree, though, Doctor Who goes into its 60th anniversary celebrations, with a rumour now that we may even be getting the first such special during the upcoming festive period (I'll believe it when I see it!). More old characters are coming back for that (again, I won't spoil it, if you've missed the press releases and snaps of location filming). Will it create a nostalgia overload, or will those involved find new ways to celebrate the old? Watching the Neighbours episode, I got to experience being a casual viewer in a way I couldn't ever for Doctor Who, and it was fine. I watched a lot of the early years of Neighbours but I can't have seen an episode for something like 25 years; nonetheless, I could mentally reverse engineer the plot arcs sufficiently that I knew what was going on. During the flurry of characters appearing, I was quite relaxed about not recognising most (then enjoyed the odd moment where I was able to say something like "Ooh, that's Joe Mangel!"). This would be what it was like to someone who likes Doctor Who but not obsessively wondering who Mike Yates or Liz Shaw are when they pop up, or seeing Tom Baker as the Curator and marvelling at how old he's got. I think it'll probably work out okay for the show and for the audience. On top of that, unlike poor Neighbours, any wake at which we celebrate is also a christening of sorts. Doctor Who will be reborn again, then again will revel in its long history, and finally it'll carry on to new and exciting things in 2023 and beyond!

In Summary:

It's somehow not fun or silly enough, despite the eyebrow-raising nature of the villain, but it's over relatively quickly at least.